Trekking into Mayan history
Story and Photos by Amiran White, special to The Oregonian
The sun sets on the stones of the pyramid El Tigre, in the distance is the mound of La Danta. The view from the top of the many pyramids dotted around the El Mirador Basin is the same as far as the eye can see -- trees and mounds. The piece of pottery glistens in the flashlight's beam as I move it around in my hands, feeling the smooth surface. I study the red paint that decorates the ceramic and grin.
In that moment, all else is forgotten -- the humidity beyond imagination, the aching muscles, the spider webs I'd had to wipe from my face during a two-day mule ride through the Guatemalan jungle.
"The last person to touch that was the last person to use it, several thousand years ago," says Richard D. Hansen, head archaeologist of a team in search of Mayan royalty. I stand, speechless, in one of the hundreds of pyramids scattered throughout the Mirador Basin -- the cradle of Mayan civilization.
For years on end, Hansen's team has peeled back the jungle's archaeological treasures, like art restorers scratching away a whitewashed wall inch by inch to reveal a priceless fresco. But these are works most of the world will never see: after being revealed, restored and photographed, they are covered up again
Evidence of conflict
The Mirador Basin in Guatemala's northernmost state of Peten encompasses 600,000 acres and lies within the Maya Biosphere, an area containing more than 500 species of flora and fauna in the area's only surviving rain forest. It is also where Hansen and his team continue to discover Mayan cities that predate the most well-known of Guatemalan Mayan structures, Tikal, by 1,000 years.How to get there: Most major carriers offer connecting flights between Portland and Guatemala City, starting at $613 (Continental) in a spot search for November. The closest airport to Mirador is the smaller Mundo Maya International Airport, also known as Flores. Continental Airlines flies direct from Houston, otherwise TACA flies between Guatemala City and Flores.
The jungle journey: Carla Molina at Ecotourism & Adventure Specialists comes highly recommended for arranging transportation from the Flores Airport to the village of Carmelita on the edge of the jungle -- a two-hour drive -- and for arranging a guide and pack animals from there. She can also arrange a helicopter if you choose to bypass the jungle trek.
More info: miradorbasin.com, Global Heritage Fund, fares-foundation.org
Hansen, chief senior scientist for the Institute for Mesoamerican Research at Idaho State University, has been leading archaeological digs in the area for almost 30 years. He hopes to create a roadless wildlife preserve. By working closely with regional groups and the Guatemalan government, Hansen wants to encourage tourism but keep the area from being overrun by humans.
"Digging a road will ruin the area and encourage loggers, looters and drug trafficking," he says. Instead, he hopes that a narrow-gauge railroad and eco-lodges can be established.
For now, it takes two full days of trekking with pack animals and a guide to reach the archaeological sites in the Mirador Basin. The hot jungle teems with insects, colorful snakes and monkeys screeching overhead. Those with deep pockets -- cost is about $1,250, depending on number of passengers -- can hire a helicopter and reach the camp in 15 minutes from the airport in Flores.
My guide was a young Mayan called Arturo. He spoke little as he led my horse, Macho, and I through the narrow trails of the jungle. Every now and then he would stop the animals and point into the branches as a family of spider monkeys swung through the trees, or as an irritated parrot squawked after being rudely surprised by us.
Fluorescent blue butterflies darted through the rays of sun that speckled the ground through the foliage. A small deer stood on the path ahead watching us, before jumping into the brush.
"Qué bonito," Arturo said, smiling. Yes, I responded, very pretty.
Preserving a wild place
"It was the mules that attracted us," said Peter Sheen, a bearded Englishman now living in Dublin, Ireland, who traveled with his partner, Joan Murray. "We wanted to see the pyramids, and traveling on mules through the jungle seemed like a good adventure."
View full sizeArturo leads laden mules toward the camp at El Mirador, a trip that takes two days.I joined the couple for a semi-cold drink after arriving in the camp. Sheen, a military medal collector, and Murray, who sells antiques, were planning to spend a week trekking through the jungle with their 72-year-old Mayan guide, Juan. After El Mirador they were heading to another archaeological camp farther north called Nakbe. "We're hoping to see more species of birds, maybe even a big cat," Murray said. As they chatted, a tree frog lost its footing and landed on my bare arm, causing me to jump with a shriek as the clammy amphibian sat there looking up at me with big, round eyes.
At camp, most hikers sleep in hammocks covered by hanging mosquito nets and eat simple meals of beans and rice prepared by their local guide, while listening to the prehistoric growl of the howler monkey and watching for the colorful beaks of a toucan or a rare glimpse of a jaguar.
We walk around the Mayan sites, chatting with the archaeologists and other scientists who spend two to three months in camp, then gasp at the beauty of a sunset followed by the night sky, unpolluted by any light source.
The site known as Structure 34 in the El Tigre complex sits ready for tourists to visit. It costs more money to keep a site open and protect it against the elements than to cover it back up. Although almost 300 workers, cooks, archaeologists, scientific artists, environmentalists and other multidisciplinary scientists live in the camp, the tourist remains a rare breed. But Hansen hopes that will change.
Guatemalan President Alvaro Colom supports Hansen's project and has introduced his own plan for increased tourism and environmental protection called Cuatro Balam, which involves preserving a much larger area of the Peten.
But resistance has surfaced from industrial loggers and community logging co-ops, which support an earlier conservation plan based on sustainable forestry. The region has lost 70percent of its forest in the past 10 years.
"To log this area is the equivalent of using the Grand Canyon as the Los Angeles landfill," Hansen said. He is working with various groups and the Guatemalan government to establish permanent protection for the Mirador Basin.
Ancient stones tell tales
Enrique Hernandez, 33, a graduate student from Guatemala City, explained the need for preservation in tactile terms."Feel this," he said as he handed me a piece of ceramic. "You need to touch them all the time; you can feel different things -- this is waxy."
Laura Velasquez, an archaeology student from Guatemala City, shows Dr. Richard Hansen some of the Pre-Classic ceramics she has found in and around the El Tigre pyramid. I felt the smoothness of the pottery. I watched as Hernandez and fellow worker Julio Cifuentes painstakingly washed every fragment that had been dug from the nearby causeways that join one Mayan city to another and placed them on chicken wire to dry in the hot sun. Hernandez has been documenting his findings around the causeways for the past five years. "You love it or you hate it, and I love it," he said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose, "and we need the tourist bit here. So people can see why we need help, to see what we're doing and help protect this region. It must be protected."
A rudimentary map lies protected under clear plastic near the camp. Signposts with the name of the excavation sites help tourists find a particular pyramid, and you can wander from site to site. All the workers and archaeologists are eager to talk about their findings and discuss their work.
"The architecture is telling you its story," archaeologist and teacher Beatriz Balcarcel said. "By studying its stones, (you learn) what happened in the past.
"When I was 7 years old I used to collect stones. I had a huge collection, and still I am collecting. Only now I draw the stones and write about them."
Balcarcel has been working on the Great Central Acropolis site, where five walls have shown that much remodeling went on, both by those who made the pyramid and others who came along later and adapted the buildings.
The jungle is alive
Wandering around the jungle, I hear male cicadas clicking their hind legs, the monkeys rustling the leaves, the odd shovel hitting stone, a mumbling of voices.
A banded cat-eyed snake hangs out in the jungle. There are over 500 species of flora and fauna to be found in the region. I keep my eyes open for jaguars, parrots and snakes. I keep a bandana at the ready to wipe away the perspiration. I try to imagine what life was like several thousand years ago. I awaken one day before sunrise, thanks to the howler monkey in the tree above my camp, and walk to a nearby grassy mound. This, like other mounds around, I know to be a pyramid.
Though many of the pyramids have been excavated, they are usually preserved by covering them up after copious photos are taken, papers written and fragments cataloged. Preserving and reconstructing a pyramid once it is exposed to the elements is a very expensive proposition.
But Hansen has been working to keep some digs exposed, to create interest in the region and encourage visitors.
Sitting on the summit, I wait for the sun to rise. The night sky twinkles with more stars than I have ever seen. Then the colors begin to graduate from dark blue to pink to orange. All I can see, as far as the horizon, are treetops.
Again, I am left speechless.
-- Amiran White
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Brits conquer the West
Toyota’s bigger Texas-built Tundra proves a brilliant way to explore America
Story and photos by Amiran White
for The New Mexican 'Drive' Magazine
I was pumping gas when an old, white Ford pickup pulled up in the space opposite and a rather good-looking fellow jumped out. He nodded in my direction, and I smiled. After a few moments, I coyly took another glimpse at the man and caught him staring. I could feel my cheeks blushing.
“Is it everything they say?” he asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“The truck,” he said, pointing to the full-size Tundra I was filling up. “Does it have as much power as they advertise?”
“Oh,” I said, finally realizing what he had been staring at, “yes. Yes it does.” I grinned and rallied: “It kicks ass out there!”
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect to test-drive a new vehicle: My mother was coming to visit from England and we planned to drive around the Southwest, visiting some of the more amazing sights from the Grand Canyon to Monument Valley.
After driving the 2007 Toyota Tundra around town a bit, I knew it was going to be a fun week, but one dictated as much by the truck as by me. I went to the grocery store and realized that parking at Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods was out: This truck asked for more than I’m used to — more space to park, more space to turn around, just more. And this Tundra didn’t even have the longer bed out back. When I went to pick up my mother at the airport, the first three floors of the parking garage were out of bounds for the truck, and we were relegated to the top floor with all the other big Fords, Dodges and Hummers. It was a packed floor.
“Goodness, you have become quite American,” said my mother as she looked at the truck, “it’s enormous.”
There’s a yearly road tax in England, which is determined in part by the size of a vehicle’s engine. A little hatchback might only cost you 40 British pounds, but a large SUV or a pickup like the Tundra could be several hundred. Needless to say, there are a lot more Minis and small sedans on the road in England.
To make the best use of its size, the seats in the back of the Tundra’s cab easily jump up and out of the way, creating space for my mother’s big, red suitcase. “I obviously should have brought more things with me,” my mother said as she peered into the bed of the truck.
Toyota’s trying to please everyone with this new Tundra, and you can get three lengths of beds, three different cab configurations and three engines, depending on your needs. The model I was driving had the Double Cab, which is big with four doors, though it’s only in the middle of the choices — there’s also a Regular Cab and the CrewMax, which has four full-size doors. Plenty of room for stuff or people in the back, and from the driver’s seat, I felt like I was a queen.
The only problem was that it was a base model — called SR5; the step up is Limited — and there were no running boards to help us into our seats. Trust me, you need the running boards. It took both my mother and I several days to learn how to pull ourselves up into the cab while still keeping a little dignity. By the end of the trip, we were both pros, with one arm bigger than the other from grabbing the available handles. We also caught on very quickly to the impracticalities of wearing skirts.
We woke bright and early the next day and began our road trip, stopping at amazing historic sites such as the Acoma Pueblo on our way west. We drove the
28 miles around the National Park’s Rainbow Desert and Petrified Forest, which was quite brilliant, made more so by the fact that the cab of the truck sat high enough to be perfect for sightseeing! We found an old chrome bumper with Route 66 on it, which my mother had to have a picture of, and then it was on to Flagstaff.
Though it was short on options, our Tundra did have the biggest engine: Toyota developed the new
5.7-liter V-8 specifically for its new largest truck, though the 4.0-liter V-6 and 4.7-liter V-8 from last year’s Tundra are also offered. The bragging rights the top engine earns, the things the fellow at the gas station was chattering about — 381 horsepower, 401 pound-feet of torque and the ability to tow an unsettling 10,600 pounds in this configuration — are necessary to compete in a market where it’s misleading to say the Detroit automakers dominate: They own it.
Toyota’s never done a truck meant to fully compete on these grounds. And that’s why, on the Tundra, as in Texas (where a new factory was built to make it, though ours came from the other plant in Indiana), everything’s bigger.
Inside, the huge buttons and dials are quite over the top, as are the wide, well-padded seats. But everything made quick sense, and those seats sure were comfortable over the long haul.
Thanks to that rip-roaring engine, the truck guzzles the gas, again compared with what I’m used to: A full tank cost me close to $60 and lasted 380 miles — and that was before the latest run-up in gas prices. There’s a very handy gadget on the dashboard that tells you how many miles you have left on the tank, which is especially useful since the miles just slip by in this Tundra.
If I got stuck behind a Cadillac with only knuckles and a pea cap showing, I just threw on the left-hand signal, and off we blasted. It was pretty amazing. We could have been going on a very steep upgrade, and it felt like a turbocharger was engaging to send us sailing past all the slow coaches in the right-hand lane. True, the gas might have lasted a little longer if I stayed right more often, but when in Rome ...
We stayed in downtown Flagstaff that night. The truck might be great on the open road, but in a small mining town, maneuvering the beast was tricky, and it took a while to find a space big enough to park in. I thought that would be my biggest challenge of the day, but when we checked into the old hotel Monte Vista, they gave us the room key plus a set each of earplugs. It turns out that the trains run through downtown Flagstaff at all hours of the night and keep you in the know with very loud whistles.
We were headed to the new Skywalk on the west side of the Grand Canyon. The Skywalk itself is an experience better left for another story, but the drive there took us on many miles of unpaved roads. My mother was very excited to see her first tumbleweeds, and I was excited that the truck had definitely found its milieu. It simply floated over the roads as though on a carpet, never losing traction or shuddering uncouthly. Made for America, to be sure.
We saw the Grand Canyon, Zion National Park and then, the cherry on top, Monument Valley. “Ooh look,” said my mother, “it’s just like in the movies.”
The unmistakable monuments loomed ever closer. Every few miles we’d stop, jump out, shoot pictures and hop back in. We were pros by now, though every now and again, I’d forget and park on a slope, causing troubles for one or both of us attempting to climb into the truck.
At the Monument Valley entrance in the Navajo Tribal Park, there were signs indicating that unless you had a four-wheel drive, you should park and take a shuttle around the park. Amazingly on a truck of this size and price, our Tundra wasn’t four-wheel drive — that’s another option that hadn’t been checked. But, with so much innate ability, it never needed it. We just grinned and kept driving. Yet again, the truck was brilliant. High enough for us to view the amazing red shale and sandstone buttes and pinnacles, rugged enough to take the often steep, unpaved and rocky road and comfortable enough for us to thoroughly enjoy the ride.
It was a most memorable trip, made more so by
a vehicle that could handle anything we put before it. I think it’s a fairly impractical size if you spend most of your time driving in towns, but if you’re on the open road a lot, work on a farm or need to haul huge amounts of stuff, this full-size pickup makes a convincing argument.
People back home might shake their heads at me for saying it, but this was one of the more comfortable drives I’ve ever had. Only in America.
