Our first few kilometres driving through Chiapas has a similar effect on us as most other Mexican states. We notice the differences right away. Each state seems to have its own fruit of abundance, popular dress, colours and energy. Some areas thrive on chaos and others choose the slower alternative. With the mild humidity comes vibrant greens chasing over hilltops and beyond. We’re back in the land where livestock rules the streets, so we drive on high alert for activity. We weave our way through the mountains in search of cooler weather after the offensive Oaxacan coast pushed us here. And after diligently scrolling iOverlander locating camp options, I read a comment that tickled my happy veins. A reviewer stated “This was one of our highlights of travelling through Mexico. We will be returning.” I enjoy a bold statement like that so our map now points towards Cascada El Aguacero. I’d say this is one of the funnest parts of travelling without an agenda.

  The sun starts to dip as we lose all of the elevation we just gained. Our waterfall camp is situated in a canyon, so down down down we go. It’s quiet when we pull up to the gate, a theme we’ve noticed with travelling in the off season. A young girl takes our pesos and we guide the Chinook into the empty field to set up camp. It’s warm, and we’re craving a swim after that drive, but find out there are 800 friendly concrete steps in our way. Although the temptation is high, and I can see Matthew spreading his arms attempting to grow wings, we decide to wait until morning. A breeze picks up and the temperature drops slightly, goodnight tropical canyon.

  A hilarious morning thought clouds my brain as I think about how many random parking lots we have enjoyed coffee in. We sip, and enjoy listening to the world wake up around us, and appreciate where we are. Once a bead of sweat falls from Matthew’s brow, it is time to lube up the knee joints for our descent to the falls. We wave to the girls showing up to their shift and hope they have goodies for us upon our return. Stomp, crack, bang, pause. Lightning? Nope. Just out of shape knees dealing with the shock of 800 misshapen steps. The bright side is we get to stop every once and awhile and play the statue game with lizards and attempt to identify tropical birds.

  The adventure continues when we reach the base of the canyon as we follow an overgrown trail eager for our first glimpse of the falls. We can hear them, and when I push past a medley of large deep green leaves zesty with cobwebs, I can feel it. Above us a beautiful shower gifted from natures builder falls into pools and spreads along the canyon. We lay our blanket on a sand bar and take a moment to feel extremely small. The mist from the falls tickles our cheeks as we lay and watch birds soar back and forth through the canyon walls. A crystal clear and refreshing cold river curves through the canyon holding an ecosystem of its own. Where the jungle meets the desert. Walls lined with cacti and sand squeezing through our toes coexist with lush pockets of green where bugs are vocal, iguanas enjoy a bath and birds flutter through fruit trees. Our skin enjoys drinking up the cold water for some time until our stomachs announce it’s time to leave. Up we go.

  Back in the Chinook, we’re excited to be heading higher into the mountains. Our next destination is San Cristobal, and the elevation there is about 2,300 meters. Just the thought of being at that high of an altitude forces Matthew’s foot a little stronger on the gas pedal. And after a gruelling climb accompanied by some ear popping, we stick our hands out the window and grab the cold air. The landscape begins with the dark hues of pine trees and fans out to tiny white square rooftops speckled with colourful windows and planted flowers. It already feels like I never want to leave this place.

  The town greets us with narrow streets, surprise one ways and cobblestone layers. Our camp tonight is nestled in an adventure park called Acrotete, 35 pesos per person for a spot on the river. And surprise surprise, we get it all to ourselves. A wall of green from the freshly mowed grass to the tops of coniferous trees surrounds us and the air is inviting. We settle in and enjoy the solitude. Another layer of clothes, and our heels dig into the earth. This feels like home. We submit to the feeling and start thinking of our families. We’ve come so far already from a year ago, and it’s important for us to send gratitude to the people that got us here. Our families and friends have been cheering us on from the beginning, and today we wish we could squeeze them. Maybe they’ll hear us if we yell extra loud!

    It was almost time to say goodbye to our magical green mountain getaway, but we decided to walk around the park before departure. Following a couple decrepit signs that say Grutas we end up at the base of a cave, but our jaws have been left a few meters back. Our first thought is, what if we missed this? What if we decided not to explore past our camp? Before us is an impressive cave carve by the river we’ve been sleeping next to. There are stairs and a walkway where you can navigate through nature’s erosion playground. Matthew and I spend the morning crawling, climbing and touching every rounded corner of the cave. Swallows keep us company while they dive into holes along the walls, and later rock climbers attempt crazy routes that I’d never dream of trying. It’s incredible watching everyone enjoy this act of nature in different ways. And once we’ve got our fill, we pack up and make our next move. Let this be an encouragement to never leave stones unturned.