Misol-ha Falls

4:45 p.m. Tuesday, Sept. 14, 2010 – Misol-ha Falls, Mexico

***

Yesterday Evelyn, Liz, Brittany and I spent the day in town, dropping off laundry and stocking up on groceries. We also spent quite a bit of time relaxing in the Mexican version of Starbucks, which I would have felt guilty about if it didn’t account for 50% of Palenque’s air-conditioned buildings. The cool rush felt like Heaven’s breeze, and was difficult to walk away from. Our other favorite refreshing drink has become licuado de fruta con leche (a creamy fruit drink), which you can order at most little food stands.

Today we decided to venture out a little more, and set out for Misol-ha, home of some dramatic falls that Jason had been telling us about. The five of us went, just missing Chiara who was taking a vacation to Mexico City. We took a colectivo ride down a long, winding, mountain road to the park. It was sunny and warm, but as soon as we got within a 150 meter radius of the falls we got blasted with a cool mist. I was competently taken aback by the falls. I’ve seen some impressive ones before, some taller, some fatter, but somehow none quite reached this high on the scale of epic-ness.

We spent a few minutes admiring it from afar, and then took a path that led behind the actual falls. Within no time we were completely drenched, but it was a rare treat to be able to look straight up and see that water crashing all around me. My respect for the power of water + gravity increased ten fold as I braved closer and closer to the direct flow, trying to get that monumental photo without being crushed or swept over by the weight of the gallons of water being dumped on my head every second. I couldn’t hear anything but the roar, or see anything but droplets being pelted into my eyes.

Jason, Evelyn and I decided to explore further and climbed our way along the cliff to another, smaller waterfall. There was a rope tied to the top that we were able to use to hoist ourselves up the slippery levels of the falls, literally climbing through the water to the top. The source of the water was a cave stream, and we found ourselves waist-deep in water at the base of the tunnel. We were prepared with headlamps, but unfortunately the rope ended after the introductory rapid, ceasing its aid. I tucked my camera into my bathing suit top and clung onto the cavern walls, clawing my way along and fighting the intense current with every step.

Two possessions that are worth their weight in gold to me are my Chacos and waterproof camera. The Chacos are the perfect shoe to climb and scramble in, sandals with plenty of support, a thick sole and lots of traction. My water/shockproof camera has followed me on countless adventures where my SLR wouldn’t have lasted a minute. Between bungy jumping, skiing, kayaking down falls and now spelunking, this thing has survived a lot of action and recorded two years’ worth of priceless memories. And somehow it always seems to make it home alive (although now I feel I will inevitably be writing a eulogy for this camera in a future blog post).

We worked our way to the base of a larger opening, where the water suddenly deepened. Jason, the tallest and strongest of the trio, ventured in. But with the current and loss of a safety wall, Evelyn and I watched from the entrance. A few huge bats flapped their way by us and out the tunnel. We marveled at the place we found ourselves in, completely hidden from the eyes of every other visitor that day.

Going back was faster, but much, much scarier. Moving upstream is a lot of work but you are in control. You move your legs against the current and place them where you choose. Going back, you are at the mercy of the water rushing past, which dictates when and where you place your feet. One step on an unsteady rock and down you go. If your grip on the wall doesn’t hold, then over you go. Once out of the cavern, we climbed back down the falls (again more difficult than going up—especially when our feet were masked by the white veil of water). Then we shimmied back to the larger falls, through the curtain of water, back to safety and back to the rest of our group who was relaxing in the sun below.

I decided to swim a little, since I was already thoroughly saturated. It wasn’t really a swimming hole though—the entire area was pulsating with waves radiating from the epicenter of the falls. But it was a fun challenge to see if I could fight the current enough to make it to the remnants of a tree sticking up above the surface about 50 meters closer to the falls. I’ve never swum so hard in my life, and I made it to the tree but was so tired I didn’t even have the strength to hoist myself on top. Getting there was enough for me, so I just let go and let the waves push me back ten times faster than I had arrived.

When we’d all had enough of the falls, we treated ourselves to some delicious food at a restaurant nearby. Our colectivo driver had offered to come back to pick us up at 4:30, so we paid him because we knew it would be difficult to find another ride home from such a remote area late in the evening. Now we’ve finished our meal and are waiting, hoping this guy will actually show. It’s raining now and I’m not too keen on the multiple hour walk home if he decides not to come back for us.

***

6:30 p.m. Tuesday, Sept. 14, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

***

We made it home, but not exactly the way we had planned. At 5:15 p.m. we got tired of waiting, figuring the guy had screwed us over. A couple of Argentineans and a Swiss were waiting with us also hoping for a ride back, but when our guy didn’t show we all started walking the few kilometers back to the main road. It was a beautiful walk and the rain had stopped, so I didn’t even mind. We got lucky; a car with a trailer picked the eight of us up and took us back to Palenque for only 20 pesos. Not bad, and it was a fun ride with all of us crammed in and trying not to fall out (there was no tailgate).

Now back home and dry, we’re going to cook fajitas, relax and drink the homemade sangria that has been chilling overnight. I just looked up some photos of Misol-ha Falls, and thought at first I was looking at a different place. The photos were taken during the dry season and show hardly more than a glorified trickle compared to what we saw after weeks of rain. I’m really glad we were fortunate enough to see the waterfall in all its glory.

***