Members of Jalisco’s oldest hiking and camping club told me they had a mission.
“We have to add four plaques honoring four of our fallen comrades to a monument we erected years ago high atop El Pico del Aguila at 3,901 meters altitude on the Nevado de Colima Volcano. You’re welcome to join us, but you’ll have to carry a small bag of cement and a liter of water up to the top because the cross we put there has fallen over.”
Their club, Cuerpo de Exploradores del Occidente (The Western Explorers’ Corps or CEO), was founded in Guadalajara in 1937 by Jorge Acero de la Fuente and their very first excursion was to the Primavera Forest, “which in those days was considered far away and hard to reach.”
When I mentioned to nature photographer Jesús “Chuy” Moreno that I was going up to the Nevado, he told me he had gone there several times in January and February hoping to see snow, “but Murphy’s Law prevailed and I never saw a single flake.”
Well, my case was worse than Chuy’s because I’ve been here for 28 years and never found snow on several visits to this volcano. Considering I was going there on March 16, I certainly didn’t expect to see any on this occasion, but just past Ciudad Guzman the clouds suddenly opened to reveal the top of the Nevado and my compañeros’ eyes bulged. Never before, they said, had they seen so much snow on this volcano, whose name, nonetheless, means, “Covered with Snow.”
After leaving the toll road at the Ciudad Guzman exit, we followed signs for the Nevado de Colima. Curiously, the state of the paved road leading to the park entrance was abominable, full of so many potholes it looked as if it had been bombed.
“Don’t worry,” said my friend Guillermo ‘El Yeti’ Quiroz, “from here on up, the road is in perfect condition.”
And so it was. In fact, I’d say this dirt road is in such good shape that any car in tiptop mechanical condition, will do fine here, although one with high clearance would be preferable. However, not all the vehicles in our party were in tiptop shape and soon two of them were steaming like fumaroles (a sort of CEO tradition, I think) and had to go back down to visit a mechanic. The rest of us carried on and after about an hour and a half, we came to the highest point on the mountain reachable by car.
“Now we hike straight up to El Pico del Aguila,” my friends said. And just as I’ve come to expect when hiking with members of this club, there was no trail to be seen anywhere.
We started slogging up the steep slope, through a beautiful combination of snow and bunch grass until we reached a ridge at 3,890 meters. This was covered with several inches of soft snow and off in the distance rose the highest pinnacle of the mountain, El Picacho Norte, 4,240 meters above sea level. As the sun was now shining, we started making snowballs, taking pictures and, in no particular hurry, slowly making our way along the ridge and up to the top of the rocky Eagles’ Peak.
Just as we were arriving, the weather suddenly changed, as it is want to do at the top of high mountains. Dark clouds instantly filled the sky, a strong wind began to blow and suddenly it was snowing. Instead of groans, my Mexican companions broke out in cries of sheer delight, obviously considering falling snow a blessing from on high. Curiously, what were falling from the sky were not flakes, but small pellets. In the distance, low clouds began to fog up the whole mountain. Meanwhile, the people in charge of restoring the monument were working furiously, despite the cold.
Well, there was no way to know whether a full-blown snowstorm was about to be unleashed and my mountain-savvy companions decided to follow the dictates of prudence. “Everybody get down off the peak; we’ll finish the job tomorrow,” shouted Mario Guerrero. “Let’s get out of here!”
So we did, and, wouldn’t you know, the fickle goddess of the mountain changed her mind ten minutes later. The snowfall stopped and out came the sun again: time for more photos.
Upon reaching the cars, we drove down to a part of the mountain called La Joya, where my friends assured me we would be protected from the wind. Here there are lots of tall trees and large wooden cabins, inside of which campers pitch their tents, once again, to have shelter from the cold wind. There are also kiosks with tables, benches and barbecue pits. But despite a roaring fire and all that extra protection for our tents, it was mighty COLD that night and I was not the only one rubbing my feet to try getting them somewhat warm even though I was using a combination of three sleeping bags.
Now you can avoid frozen toes by opting out of camping and just visiting the Nevado for a day trip. Figure it will take you about 90 minutes to drive the 35 kilometers up from the entrance to the highest parking area. From there, it’s only a 40-minute hike up to the ridge (N19 35.148 W103 36.870) and about half-hour’s walk to the Pico del Aguila (N19 35.337 W103 36.640). By the end of the day, you could be enjoying both a cold beer and warm toes down in Ciudad Guzman. Happy hiking!
How to get there
Take Highway 54 from the Guadalajara Periferico and follow the signs for the Colima toll road (cuota) or the “libre” until you get to Ciudad Guzmán. You should now find signs for El Nevado. If not, ask anyone how to reach the Instituto Tecnologico de Ciudad Guzman (N19 40.096 W103 29.089), which is on a road heading southwest 7.3 kilometers to the Nevado Entrance (N19 37.961 W103 31.783). Driving time from Guadalajara to the highest parking area on El Nevado: about three and a half hours.