A recent attempt to kayak my fickle local river (alas dropped too fast) with a couple friends had the consolation prize that it reminded me to pester Rocky (Chiapas Whitewater guidebook co-author) about my interest in wanting to do some boating in southern Mexico. He pointed out that he actually had an guided Usumacinta trip coming up soon and so I got looped into the trip logistics. I was initially hesitant that a guided raft trip probably wouldn't offer the pace and experience I was after, that I couldn't find anyone else to join me (Heather and my brother both unfortunately could not make it), and that it would necessitate my first air travel since the pandemic started. Eventually I decided to commit. Looking back the Usumacinta River did not make my short list of the Chiapas rivers I was interested in running based on my guidebook readthrough, probably because of the minimal amount of whitewater and the logistics involved in a longer trip. As Rocky pointed out there were access and safety issues associated with going down the Usumacinta, which was another argument in favor of going with his group. So in the end I was sold, as long as I got to go in my packraft!
The Usumacinta is a HUGE river, the biggest I have boated to date. Our low season float found it at about 55,000 cfs. Though most of the river is relatively flat with limited whitewater, some sections had some of the most chaotic and spontaneously forming and dissolving hydraulics I have ever seen. Apparently at higher flows the whirlpools on this river are particularly feisty. Our trip would be 6 days going 142km total. Along the way we would pass through dense jungle with abundant howler monkeys, pass two important Mayan archaeological sites, and pass beautiful travertine waterfalls. We'd have whitewater to class III+ and pass through the dramatic Grand Canyon of the Maya (Gran Cañón de San José).
Thankfully the travel to the meeting place in Palenque went smoothly. LAX to Mexico City to Villahermosa. No issues with security checks or customs. My bag arrived intact. The bus ride to Palenque worked well enough. There was a total of sixteen participants (and five guides) on the trip including Rocky. Nine were multi-generational members of one family including four kids under 11, another clan of five, and then there was me and one other random. I would soon find out the guides were all lots of fun and good at what they do. Getting going was predictably slow with all the cats to herd and equipment to collect, load, and transport. We had a lunch stop at a roadside eatery halfway along and also broke up the drive with a stop to Bonampak. At Frontera we stayed in some interesting cabanas with mosquito netting. After settling in I strolled down to the launch to take in my first view of the river and to help some with rigging. The river was huge! The first toe dip into the water was also a notable moment- the river temperature was absolutely perfect. This was the most encouraging thing getting me excited for the trip. We had a big long table meal together that night and made our introductions. In short order we got to know each other pretty well. Howler monkeys let out their guttural calls all evening.
Day 1. The mornings along the river are particularly cool and pleasant I would find. I took little time getting my packraft stuffed and inflated and then set about to try to help rig the other rafts. I intentionally packed for the trip very strategically so I only took what I needed and could easily fit my personal gear inside my packraft (this was after all a test piece to what I hoped were future self-supported trips for me). With so many people around sometimes the best course of action was just to step out of the way until I spotted something I could help with. By my count we had six rafts (one with Rocky's auto-right funhouse roll-cage), two catarafts, three whitewater kayaks, two inflatable kayaks, a standup paddleboard, and my packraft. Rigging was slow but we eventually pushed off at about 10:30am. I spotted four howler monkeys napping in a tree near the river and later someone saw a crocodile that I missed. We stopped for lunch at a particularly muddy beach. The river was flat but moving. Progress was best described as lazy but I enjoyed kayaking over to the different rafts and getting to know people in our group a bit better. The river was the perfect temperature to jump in periodically and cool off. I soon discovered that I would need to constantly be covered and constantly apply sunscreen on this trip. It was the first day and I already had burns to contend with. As we approached Yaxchilan the land use contrast between the left bank (Mexican nature reserve) and right bank (Guatemalan clear-cut logged fields) became particularly striking. We arrived at Yaxchilan at 3:30pm, much later than planned, which meant that we would not get to walk through the ruins until the next morning. We carried the mountain of gear up the steep slope to the edge of the grassy airstrip and set up our first camp of the trip. The epiphytes (air plants) were particularly cool at this campsite. Margaritas and guacamole were notable comforts. More howler monkey calls continued throughout the evening, close enough to prompt a few of us to try to look for them. The stars were numerous until the bright moonrise. I slept better than expected despite not being adjusted to the warm humid evenings. We paddled 20 km.
Local boats at the put-in, Guatemala on the far bank
Day 2. In hindsight an unsurprisingly dewy morning considering the open grass on the airstrip. The group was slow to awaken and eat breakfast, but eventually we strolled over to the Yaxchilan ruins. We had the site all to ourselves which was nice (even if covid restrictions prevented us from entering some of the buildings). Initially one of the river guides Alejandro led the interpretation, but after a while the need to explore became too strong and I and many others break off from the group. The site had some nice stela and wonderfully carved doorway lintels. A group of spider monkeys also provided entertainment. A long, steep, and narrow stairway led up into the jungle away from the main plaza. It was only until I was halfway up that I caught the first glance of the ornate acropolis. I had never seen anything quite like the mesh patterned roof before and the sitting figure at the center must have been imposing in its time. Interestingly they Mayans repurposed a large calcite column, presumably from a nearby cave, as a carved totem positioned with honor in front of the acropolis. I could have easily spent more time wandering around the site, but behind schedule, we were prodded back to camp to load the rafts. From this point on for the next few days we were joined by a "support" motorboat with a crew of four. Past encounters boaters have had with banditos along this stretch of river (gunpoint robberies) encouraged certain precautions to be taken. As I understand it we hired banditos with guns to protect us against banditos with guns: classic! Anyway they mostly stayed out of sight a couple kilometers in front or behind us and I was more concerned with crocodiles than people at any given time. We made some miles before pulling into a less muddy beach with a bit of shade between the trees. The beach was absolutely hopping with thousands and thousands of the tiniest little toads I have ever seen, giving the appearance of dancing pebbles wherever anyone stepped. After lunch I ended up rowing Miyaya's cataraft to give her ailing shoulders a break, which was a nice change. A couple of the kids happily took turns paddling my packraft. We were aiming for El Playón as camp (Km63) but camped well short at Playa Chicozapote (Km45). This camp did not offer any side hikes as El Playón would have but it was a really beautiful spot on the river with a fantastic tall sandy beach, a mysterious green lagoon surrounded by large crocodile tracks, and the first named rapid of the trip within view just below the camp. I enjoyed pulling my drone out and exploring some of the surroundings including scouting the rapid just downstream. It was a beautiful night with a tasty meal, pleasant campfire, and even some smores. It was a warm night on the exposed sand still radiating the heat of the day. We paddled 25km to Km45.
Yaxchilan acropolis
Lunch stop
Playa Chicozapote (and below)
Day 3. We knew today would be a big day if we were trying to rally to get to our Piedras Negras layover camp. Fortunately people were fairly motivated and we were able to push off at 8:30a, not bad given all the raft gear. Despite this there was still a little time to make a waterslide out of paco pads down the steep slope of the beach into the river. I ended up paddling ahead of the group to take photos on the rocks as the rest of the group went through the rapid. After a while we past an interesting travertine spring on the right bank of the river and then entered a stretch with many springs both on right and left. We tied up at Big Spring where a 100m wide sheet of water poured from several spring sources over travertine steps into the river. Everyone enjoyed the beauty of the place as well as getting a waterfall massage and jumping over the small falls into the river. The river continued down a narrow rock-lined channel as we fought a headwind. The river corridor abruptly exited a band of limestone and spilled us into a vast pool adjacent to the bright glare of the largest beach on the river, El Playón. We stopped here for lunch despite the aggressive winds and blazing sun. I noticed the beach seemed to accumulate all the river's flotsam including chunks of pumice from a mysterious source. The kids had loads of fun playing with their treasured floating rocks. After lunch we continued down this open and wide stretch of river, floating past corn fields, cattle, and then waved to locals near the remote village of Arroyo Jerusalen. We passed the funky black rock conglomerate island for which Piedras Negras is named after and continued on. We pulled over in a couple places to collect some driftwood for campfires. We past through the unmemorable Rapido Caribe and then stopped at the odd Cenote Tumbado, which pours cool clear blue (and oddly sulphurous) waters into the Usumacinta. I could not resist a shallow landing cliff jump and some shallow water bouldering. This was a really neat spot, different than any cenote I've been to before. From the cenote it was a short kilometer to camp, an idyllic beach with half overhanging trees at the entrance to the Piedras Negras ruins. The camp even came with a "pride rock" slab of limestone that had a Mayan carving welcoming visitors to Piedras Negras (its real Mayan name is unknown). Being our layover camp (two nights) I put extra effort into selecting my campspot, eventually terraforming a cliff-edged spot looking down over the camp and river. It provided a bit more shade than others and had a nice spot to hang a hammock as well. We had a roaring campfire, dutch oven lasagna/enchilada hybrid (amazing!), and enjoyed the occasional fireflys. We paddled 34km to camp at Km79.
paco pad waterslide
Rapido Chicozapote
Big Spring (and below)
The river about to widen as we approach El Playón
Cenote Tumbado (and below from above)
Piedras Negras camp
My perch
Day 4. Layover day. Most justifiably slept in a bit. I joined the group for a 3 hour tour through the seldom visited (50 people a year?) Mayan ruins of Piedras Negras. The site is uncleared and more-or-less unreconstructed such that it was a maze of jungle trails between the structures. At intervals we'd see large slabs of limestone, highly weathered remnants with barely discernable carvings remaining. The best preserved and most notable structure was a sweat lodge that we were able to enter that had all of its stucco intact. We also saw an excavated tomb, a ball court, and a few minor temples. A circuitous path through several hanging plazas and corridors spiraled us up to the high point of the acropolis where we had a commanding view of the river below. Overall it was hard to appreciate the vastness of the site beneath the dense jungle but it was a fun place to wander around nonetheless. After lunch I spent considerable time hiding from the sun in my hammock, napping and reading. Once the beach was in shade I swam in the shallows with a few others, then flew the drone around. I zoomed around camp and the cenote upstream, then attempted to find the dry cenote at the end of a 2 hour jungle trek (but did not). Several worked to build a sweatlodge on the beach out of oars and tarps. Another pleasant night.
Day 5. This would also be a big day with many miles to paddle, some of the biggest rapids, most dramatic gorges, and travertine fall diversions. The day started for many with Rocky imitating a jaguar call from the jungle near camp. It continued with a freak rainstorm out of nowhere as most scrambled to quickly tear down their tents and hide underneath a tarp; fortunately I already had my gear packed away I so I enjoyed the wonderful rain sounds from beneath dense tree cover. It was the only rain on the trip and I was thankful for it. It would have been a very different type of trip if we had constant rain that heavy. But also I was glad to experience just a small amount of rain in this remote jungle. I enjoyed watching the transformation; in twenty minutes it would be over. We had several minor rapids and riffles to start out the day. After a little over ten kilometers we rounded a turn in the river and were presented with the dramatic sight of Cascada Busiljá, a multi-tiered travertine falls of white water pouring through the jungle directly into the river. I certainly could not resist getting some drone shots that really showcased the scale of it as well as the beautiful green pools contrasting with the murky Usumacinta. Starting close in at the falls I recorded a dramatic slow clip pulling out away from the falls, was mesmerized by the view on my phone, lost track of my surroundings, and plowed the drone into the leafy canopy on the opposite side of the river. It definitely hit some leaves and branches but managed to recover and maintain its hover. Very fortunately by the time I realized what happened it seemed like the drone was just fine, and I could carefully fly it between branches back into the open of the river (a close call!). I then paddled to the falls, climbed up to the pool at the base of the upper falls (finding a neat freshwater snail shell on the way), took some photos from a scenic alcove, and then jumped the main cascade into the lower green pool (fun!). I think everyone could have happily spent all day at this beautiful spot but we still had a long way to go. After more flat paddling we found a nice beach tucked high up in the shade on the right side for a good lunch spot. Post-lunch we passed the Rio Chocolja and the many locals hanging out near the water's edge. If we had time this would have been a great place to stop and carry boats up the last few kilometers of this major tributary to run a bunch of short travertine falls. We continued on though, waving as we went. Just above La Lineá (III+) we said goodbye to our support boat and continued on through the boiling chaotic whitewater. This is also the spot where the right shore ceases being Guatemala and becomes the Mexican state of Tabasco. Just past La Lineá we stopped for some spring water on river right, just before the dramatic start of the Gran Cañón de San José, a vertical walled limestone gorge completely out of place with the mild and open river we had been paddling down for days. Though the rapids were not over difficult at this flow, the gorge was intimidating for its grand scale and for its carved bedrock which created chaotic boils, eddylines, and whirlpools that sometimes spanned half the river. I loved this section of river! As soon as I found a spot open enough to get a GPS signal I flew the drone around for a bit. The rest of the group continued on and I was soon left to myself in this wild, wild place as howler monkeys menacingly echoed their calls through this gorge. It was one of the standout moments of the trip for me. I paddled hard to catch up with the rest of the group, reading-and-running Devil's Whirlpool rapid, which ended up being perhaps the most impressive hydraulics on the trip. The two halves of the river were dominated by semi-stable whirlpools with air cones you could look into several feet; between them was a thin band of haphazard lateral waves to navigate. I had a clean run but was caught imagining what an unpleasant run would look like. Rocky had cautioned that he had seen whirlpools on this river swallows boats and boaters and make them disappear for upwards of fifteen seconds! After Devil's Whirlpool the gorge eased and we entered pastoral lands of cattle and corn. We pulled into a beach on river left at about Km120.5 near the village of San José Usumacinta, easily the least notable camp of the trip. The brief return to civilization (people boating up to our camp, loud generator and car noises, and abundant cow patties) killed some of our enthusiasm for our wild and scenic river. Nevertheless, we had a grand dinner to celebrate our big day and last night on the river. We had paddled 39km to camp at Km118.
Cascada Busiljá (and two below)
La Lineá
The dramatic entrance to the Gran Cañón de San José
Day 6. Although the scenic climax was behind us, we still had some stretches of gorges and rapids to enjoy. I again positioned myself to film the group going through the paired rapids of San Josécito and San Jos. Rocky attempted to flip his auto-right equipped raft in the biggest waves but didn't completely manage it. This lower gorge section was nice with some intermittent cliffs, it just did not have the deep shadows and confined drama of the upper gorge. The last rapid of White Wall rounded out the gorge. The remaining miles had particularly flat water and abundant motorboats and fishing nets. I got out to explore a sketchy adit built for testing a dam site. Shortly onward the whole group checked out an interesting cave with hundreds of bats on river left. The last two kilometers were probably the roughest of the whole trip as we were trying to power through the flatwater to have an overdue lunch at our takeout ramp. At long last the tall orange bridge over the Usumacinta came into view, signaling the end of our trip. We paddled 24 kilometers to end the trip at Km142. There was much to do derigging the boat at keeping a watchful eye on human scavengers and I was feeling a bit heat exhausted from this final push. Eventually we got sorted out and piled into the crowded van back to Palenque. A shower and AC were much appreciated at the end of this jungle trip. é
Rapido San Josecito (III)
Rapido San José (III+)
The Usumacinta ended up being unlike any other river trip I have been on. Sure it was a bit slow and heavy like pretty much any raft trip but the experience otherwise more than made up for that. The jungle sounds, the Mayan ruins, the incredible waterfalls, the warm waters, the gorges, the big water hydraulics, the people. It really is a testament to Rocky and his team of local guides that such a family-friendly river trip can be carved out of this remote edge of Mexico. A huge thanks to them for such a great trip that has wetted my appetite to seek out more Chiapas whitewater.
We broke up the bleary hot drive from Palenque to Frontera with a short excursion into the Bonampak archaeological site. In contrast to most Mayan sites managed by INAH, this one is under the purview of the local Lacandon Maya that inhabit the area. After being shuttled down a dirt road and traversing the stalls of local artisans, we somewhat abruptly exited the forest path to arrive at the main plaza of Bonampak. The site is not overly large and is dominated by structures on one side of the plaza plastered upon a notable hill with lower structures fringing the rest of the space. Bonampak is best known and most frequently visited for its three colorful floor to ceiling murals, among the best preserved Mayan murals anywhere. Unfortunately due to covid concerns the three mural rooms were closed off and we were unable to see them in person. The plaza had some impressively large carved stela to 6 meters in height. A prominent tree had numerous colorful loud cacique birds and their large dangling nests. Climbing up the steep stairways (pro tip: diagonally) was a nice change from many of the "don't touch" Mayan sites I've visited thus far. The entry lintels for some of the temples at the top also had impressively well preserved carvings.
Stela 1
This was the smallest Mayan site I have visited thus far (apparently "fourth-rate in terms of size and political importance"), but I actually really enjoyed this one as I felt like it was easier to appreciate the scale of it and the time and effort that would have gone into building the ruins. From the top of the temple staircase it was easy to look out over the plaza and imagine the day to day life. At times we were the only group in the ruins. It was all a little more tangible to immerse yourself in an imagined rendition of a culture, place, and time.
Stela 2
Looking up at a temple lintel
I could have easily spent a bit more time exploring the ruins but we had a schedule to keep. We needed to get to Frontera and get started rigging our flotilla before darkness fell. Thanks to Alejandro for interpreting many of the intricate artwork.
I do not think I have ever really done a real bikepacking trip before but with the Grade Valley Road seasonally closed until May I thought it might be a good opportunity to have a quiet approach to Sespe Hot Springs, another place I had not been to in well over 15 years! Keith loaned me his box of bikepacking gear and I tuned up my bikes ready to go. The plan was a 11 mile bike ride on Grade Valley Road and then a 9 mile hike on the Johnston Ridge Trail to Sespe Hot Springs. Thinking access was more difficult this time of year I was hoping for few people at the hot springs (but being the weekend in southern California it was plenty busy). We got a bleary eyed start from Riverside and parked at the locked gate near Lockwood Valley Road. It took time to rig the bikes but I was pleasantly surprised at the effectiveness of the bikepacking gear in carrying our camping gear effectively. We set off at about 8:30am, a cold start on the uphill paved portion of the road. At the first saddle the road became dirt, more in line with my memory. Progress was slow through the slight up and down of the hanging flats, but the desolate open pine forests and quietness were pleasant. At the second saddle we peered down Grade Valley and I could see the low gap on the distant horizon that would lead us into the Sespe catchment. I enjoyed the steep descent into Grade Valley, but lamented the suffering of having to climb it on the way out.
Before too long we were at Piru Creek which I was thinking might require us to dismount and wade across. It turned out to be shallow enough that we could paddle on through with care. We crossed three times and then climbed the last hill away from the Piru. It took us about 1hr 40min to get to the Johnston Trail trailhead area (now a very developed staging area rather than the 3 car pull-out I remembered it as).
The mighty Piru Creek
It did not take all that long to convert from bike mode to backpack mode and stash the bikes in the bushes. We walked the trail which was somewhat overgrown in places and obnoxiously crossed in and out of side drainages and over two extra saddles as the trail bypassed the private inholdings of Mutau Flat. The main highlights were the occasional views of Mutau Flat and the mature stands of bright red manzanita.
Mutau Flat
At the edge of Mutau Flat we peered down the head of Hot Springs Canyon. It looked like a long descent to the distant mountains on the other side of the Sespe but we worked our way at it steadily. The trail contours around the head of the drainage to gain the prominent Johnston Ridge and then follows its ridgeline down. We past the interesting fan surfaces cut into a strath terrace, prominent grassy surfaces I remember from my last trip here.
Descending Johnston Ridge
My excitement grew as we neared the hot springs and especially once I caught my first glimpse of their steaming source without any people in view. It took us about 3.5 hours to finally reach the floor of the canyon. Unfortunately a group of about 5 people arrive probably minutes before us and promptly took the prime upper palms campspot. We strategically dropped our packs at a nice creekside camping spot a comfortable distance upstream from the palms and then set out to walk up the creek sampling pool temperatures as we went. We also noticed a happy group of eight bighorn sheep on the hillside above the hot springs and continued to see them until nightfall. The source was just as boiling hot as I remembered it. The hot springs themselves are interesting enough with at least a dozen sources leaking out over metamorphic gneiss and Tertiary shale contact for a thousand foot length of the creek. The result is that the creek gradually decreases in temperature downstream but sneakily some nice temperature locations can be found hidden between rejuvenating springs and seeps. The geological map (Dibblee) suggests that it is a depositional contact but I have to say it seemed more like a fault contact to me. Regardless this is probably the highest volume hot spring in southern California and provides a unique opportunity in that rather than competing with others for the one hot spring pool, the cascading creek allows a large number of people to have pools to themselves spread out such that you can have your view to yourself.
Ridge-view of Hot Springs Canyon
We continued up the pricky pear-covered fan surfaces to the mouth of Poplar Creek where memory served that we would find clean cold drinking water and we did. We found a convenient pool at the base of a small boulder falls and stocked up to max capacity, fortunately just about the right amount that meant we would not have to collect water again the rest of the trip.
Returning from getting water in Poplar Creek
We hoped to soak in a partially shaded pool halfway back to our packs but found it much too hot. Also a picturesque pool at the confluence of two stream braids was also too hot. I realized one of these braids was less hot than the other and followed it up finding the perfect temperature pool! It needed some work though so refusing to relax just yet I grabbed the resident shovel from the palms camp and dug out the gravelly shale chip sediment from the pool while simultaneously shoring up the pool's dam and plastering algae into the voids to reduce permeability. After about 20 minutes of effort I increased the pool's water level by at least six inches and we had the perfect soaking pool to lounge out the rest of the evening.
Not too shabby!
The wind continued at intervals and other groups began to arrive. I set up the tent to formally stake our claim on our chunk of paradise (with plenty of other options for others). We watched the bighorn sheep from the springs and ate dinner. We sat in the hot springs well into the evening, enjoying the great star show and the light winds. We both wish we could have stayed another day rather than an early morning wake up to retrace our days steps.
Well camouflaged bighorns
Fortunately the night was not too cold. We set out from camp at about 6:30am. Walking out I was surprised to see that there were at least 7 other groups in total that arrived at the hot springs, nearly all camping downstream. The return hike and bike were not too notable other than the slow steady grind to regain elevation. We did opt for a cross country return skirting the property boundary at Mutau Flat which cut out the worst of the trail and saved some time and effort.
View of the palms
Hiking the fenceline past Mutau Flat
The return hike took us 3hrs 45min, not bad considering. The return bike closer to 3hrs this time. Once we hit the pavement at the final saddle came five minutes of very enjoyable downhill back to the car.
Our last hike to the Mecca Hills was such a success that Heather and I decided to check out some other somewhat promising slot-like features seen on aerial photos in a more obscure, out of the way portion of the Mecca Hills. We parked at the exit for our last loop hike, crossing the mud badland saddle and dropping into the familiar long drainage eventually ending at a very nice slot canyon. We continued out to the main wash and walk through the sand towards the Salton Sea. Just before the mouth of the wash we turned west to go up the next drainage. It became clear (and was confirmed throughout the hike) that this canyon was in the softer sediments at the top of the sequence, less conducive to good slots. Nevertheless we continued exploring all the side canyons on our way up.
The first side canyon had a nice chamber of sorts with soft sculpted narrows above.
A second side canyon had a formidable 12ft chute to upclimb and some other sculpted narrows above.
What might have been the most promising slot was unreachable due to a formidable crumbling overhanging dryfall I could not figure out how to get up. Eventually we found one decent slot, but nothing like the better known slots in the Mecca Hills.
With all the slot possibilities exhausted I was tempted to try to see if we could at least turn our hike into a loop by continuing up the main canyon and trying to cross over its head. This actually might have been the more interesting part of the hike as the canyon twisted around unexpected curves and cut its way through the alternating hard and soft sediment.
We made good time up the canyon but were slowed considerably by the crumbly headwall slopes. We took these slow, very slow, but eventually worked our way up to the ridge. To both of our delights it was easy low gradient travel on the other side and we made it back to the car with minimal effort.
It was a nice enough hike but not one I would choose to do with the better options close by. It was great to get out and find our way through some seldom seen badlands.
