Poor Veracruz state. While other areas of Mexico inspire at least some recognition around the world, most people (us included) don’t know much about Veracruz except that it’s biggest city, Port of Veracruz, hosts what some claim to be the second largest Carnaval celebration in the world after Rio de Janiero (and we’ve met Mexicans who didn’t even know that much). 

Sadly, we didn’t make it to the city of Veracruz in time for Carnaval. However, when we learned that Veracruz state is also home to some of  the best and some of the first white water rafting in in the country we had to go check it out. Here’s what we found on the water in and around the rafting mecca of Jalcomulco–and look for more eye-opening discoveries from Veracruz  state in our next few posts. 

This part of Veracruz state has two things which are crucial to a good white water river: mountains and rainfall. In fact the highest mountain in Mexico, 18,490 foot (5,636 meter) Orizaba volcano, can be seen from Jalcomulco on a clear day. And the area averages almost four feet of rain each year.

It was nearly 90° where we pulled over and took this picture near Jalcomulco, however, the weather on top of 18,490 foot Mount Orizaba was still wintery.

Folks started running the rivers here decades ago and today there are around 40 different rafting companies to choose from. 

We chose Mexico Verde, which has been running the rivers around here for 16 years. They also run a very unique “base camp” on five acres of land that was once cleared and turned into a mango orchard (the arms of the massive old trees still provide welcome shade and more mangoes than you can shake a stick at). The jungle has crept back into the orchard over time and current owner Mauricio and his staff have gently carved out a wonderful retreat in the midst of it all–thanks in part to the United States Army. 

Who knew an army surplus tent could be transformed into a 3-star suite with a private bathroom?

Mexico Verde’s overnight guests are accommodated in army surplus tents bought in the US then brought to Veracruz and transformed into four bed rooms with shared spotless and roomy bathrooms or suites with their own bathroom. There are beautiful rugs on the hardwood floors, and nice sheets and private decks. Even Wi-Fi. 

At Mexico Verde your 3-star tent suite comes with morning coffee service on your front porch.

The army tents aren’t the only things that are being recycled at Mexico Verde. The company reclaims and reuses all water via a cutting edge on-site system. All garbage is sorted and either composted or recycled. And there’s even a nursery where indigenous plants are being grown and replanted around the mango trees. 

In case you didn't get wet enough after a day of white water rafting there's always Mexico Verde's pool--the small hot tub is particularly inviting.

Three delicious meals a day, a refreshing swimming pool and a soothing hot tub don’t hurt either… 

The well-traveled owners of Mexico Verde love the Grand Canyon and this bridge spans a small creek that's been labeled "Barancas Grande" or Grand Canyon.

Every Mexico Verde rafting trip is accompanied by a safety kayaker whose job it is to scout the rapids and be on standby to pluck any swimmers out of the water as fast as possible if need be. Mexico Verde also has a roster of highly-experienced and highly-trained and certified guides who speak English in addition to Spanish. Our guide, Coba, is from the local area but spent years guiding in the United States on many rives we’ve only dreamed of rafting. He’s also a biologist, by the way and helped us identify a lot of birds during our trip, including a juvenile eagle. Of the 40 or so river rafting operations in and around Jalcomulco, Mexico Verde is one of the few that employs predominantly local river guides like Coba. 

Off for a day of white water fun.

You can watch us and Coba (okay, mostly Coba) in action on the Rio Antigua in this video. 

Our raft and our raft-mates negotiating a rapid on the Rio Antiqua in Veracruz state.

We were rafting in the low-water season when the 10 mile trip down the Rio  Antigua, which plummets roughly 3,000 feet in just 70 miles, is at it’s most placid–which was still a lot of fun. In the high season (July/August) this same trip, which took us about two hours and rarely approached class III rapids, whizzes by in less than an hour hurtling through a never-ending series of class IV and V churns. 

Our raft and our raft-mates negotiating a rapid on the Rio Antiqua with the help of our guide, Coba, in the back of the raft.

Just look at how spastic we all look coming out of this rapid, like a bunch of clowns in a bathtub. Now look at how calm our guide Coba is there in the back of the raft. It looks like he's meditating as we flail about in the water.

Our raft and our raft-mates negotiating a rapid on the Rio Antiqua in Veracruz state.

GLAD WE HAD
Waterproof housing for our Flip video camera  (good up to 30′ deep) which let us shoot the video in this blog post
Chaco sandals which are slip-proof  and stay on our feet no matter what the river throws at us.

It’s wet in the Huasteca region of central Mexico, a geographic area that creeps into parts of four states (Veracruz, Tamaulipas, San Luis Potosí, and Hidalgo). Even when the rest of the country is dry it rains here, which explains why the Huasteca is lousy with waterfalls.

There are many cascades and many swimming holes to choose from at Cascada Tamasopo.

The first waterfall we visit is Cascada Tamasopo where the blue-green water and calcified pools instantly remind us of Havasu Falls in Arizona, minus the long, dusty, hot walk to get there.

There are many cascades and many swimming holes to choose from at Cascada Tamasopo.

Cascada Tamasopo is more like a network of waterfalls and swimming holes (most of them thoughtfully marked with depth signs) than one single cascade and we were disappointed that the weather was still a bit too chilly to get wet.

The Pago Pago waterfall on the Rio Micos.

The Pago Pago waterfall on the Micos River is part of a collection of waterfalls called Cascadas de Micos. Short, wide, gentle Pago Pago and it’s meandering pools and streams is a very family-friendly waterfall area with wooden rowboats, life vests and ample shaded tables.

Cascada Minas Vieja is a bit out of the way but it rewards with both drama and serenity.

It required a bit of a drive through seemingly endless sugar cane fields and past seemingly endless trucks hauling the cut cane out, but Cascada Minas Vieja didn’t disappoint. A short walk down to the falls revealed an even more Havasu-like water system than Tamasopo: bluer water, more cascading pools, plenty of campsite-ready banks.

Cascada Minas Vieja is a bit out of the way but it rewards with both drama and serenity.

All the waterfalls we visited in the Huaseteca are drive-ups except for the biggest one in the region and the largest waterfall in the whole state of San Luis Potosi: 344′  high Cascada de Tamul.

It actually took us two tries to get to Tamul. Armed with vague and confusing information and lots of unanswered questions (this road or that road? can you actually drive to the falls or do you have to take a boat?), we failed to reach Cascada Tamul on our first attempt.

Happily, we passed through the area again, giving us a second chance to get it right. This time we found the right road and we determined that while there may be a way to drive and/or hike to the top of Tamul, the most direct and easily organized way to see it is by boat which you will most certainly be paddling. Upstream.

Reaching Cascada de Tamul requires more than mere paddling.

After a bit of haggling (we got the price down from 400 pesos to 300 pesos) we headed out with a guide, three paddles and three life jackets. The river was beautiful and the current isn’t too stiff until we start getting closer to the power of this massive waterfall and a series of small rapids which require us to get out and hike on the bank so our guide can pull the empty boat upstream until we get past the rapids. It’s hard to imagine how hard this upstream journey would be in July and August when the Huasteca gets even more rain than normal causing water levels and water volume to rise.

Karen takes a break as we paddle upstream toward Cascada de Tamul.

Our first glimpse of the 350' tall Cascada de Tamul.

Tamul is a very wide, very high, very powerful waterfall and our boat wasn’t able to go right to the face of it. The local guides take you as far as a huge boulder in the middle of the river and tie up there while passengers get out and sit on the rock to safely view the cascade. And it’s all downstream from there!

Cascada de Tamul, the largest waterfall in San Luis Potosi state.

We didn’t find out until too late that there’s a spot that’s perfect for camping (flat, sandy, shaded, all your own) just a few steps from Cuevas del Agua, a beautiful water-filled cave just downstream from the Tamul waterfall.

Here are some other Tamul tips: haggle; wear a swimsuit (paddling upstream is sweaty work and you’ll want to cool off in the river); don’t arrive at the village later than 3–this is a 2. 5 hour trip at best and no one wants to get back in the dark; avoid visiting during Mexican holidays when the area gets packed.

Cueva del Agua near Cascada de Tamul is a great swiming hole with beautiful sapphire-blue water and a great bat house.

San Blas, on the Nayarit coast between Mazatlan  and Puerto Vallarta, sits on an almost-imperceptibly high spot amidst a sprawling, swampy, jungly mangrove. This means many things, both good and bad. Mosquitoes and other mercilessly pesky and blood-thirsty insects abound, for example.  It also means that the sleepy town’s secluded, wide, white beaches aren’t the only watery thrill to be had.

For around 360 pesos (about $25) for four people one of the captains for hire who loiter in a median in the road as you enter town will take you on a three hour cruise up the Estuary San Cristobal through the federally protected mangroves and jungles and waterways that lead to the La Tovara fresh water spring (add about an hour and another 80 pesos if you want to continue past the spring to a crocodile farm where the animals are bred and released).

Our prow pushed silently through still water as we floated through the jungle toward La Tovara Springs in San Blas, Mexico.

A juvenile osprey eyed us as we passed under it during our float through the jungle and mangroves.

After waiting around for over an hour hoping two other travelers would show up to share the cost of the boat, we finally gave up and convinced a captain to take just the two of us for 300 pesos. The moment we stepped into the small, open, brightly painted wooden boat and started to move we relaxed thanks to a shockingly quite and non-stinky motor, a languid pace and plenty of eye candy. All told we saw dozens of birds, at least a dozen crocs and just two other boats.

You can get the trip for less if you walk or drive across a bridge or go even further out of town moving closer to the springs itself. However, if you ask us, the most serene and “mangrovey” sections of the trip occur in the first 20 minutes so cutting out that stretch to save a few pesos doesn’t make sense, even to us.

This small crocodile, one of many toothy terrors we saw during our boat trip, didn't budge from his sunny log as we floated by.

An egret stood motionless above the glassy water looking for the almost imperceptible movement of lunch below the surface.

Our ultimate destination was the La Tovara fresh water spring where the boat docked and we got out to gawk at the amazingly crystal clear water (this spring actually feeds the town of San Blas) and its population of happy fish. There’s a restaurant here, shady tables and you can even swim in the natural pool that’s been discreetly built up at the mouth of the spring. Be warned, however: at least one swimmer has been attached by a croc here and though there’s now a big weighted chain link fence separating the large natural pool at the mouth of the spring from the river itself we decided against taking a dip.

The crystal-clear waters of the La Tovara Spring.

This bad boy was the largest crocodile we saw and more than big enough to satisfy any Wild Kingdom dreams.

A black Iguana warming up.

San Blas’ other (absolutely unprovable) claim to fame is as the birthplace of banana bread. All over town bakeries swear they invented the stuff and you can hardly turn a corner without bumping into a chance to buy a slice or loaf of pan de platano. We sucumbed at a bakery called Juan Bananas. Why there? No idea, but the bread WAS tasy and the label that came on it can’t be beat: it’s a crude line drawing of a palm tree and a banana tree with a hammock strung between them in which a sated customer (one supposes) slumbers as gargantuan mosquitoes swarm about. We told you there were epic bugs here…

This great blue heron stood almost three feet tall.