October 12 used to be the date on which Christopher Columbus was honored for discovering America. By now most everyone knows that’s a myth.

For starters, the Italian known in Spanish as Cristobal Colón never set foot on the American continent until 1498 when he landed on the coast of Venezuela during his third voyage to the New World.

Historians now assume that Vikings, Asians, Arabs and various other explorers beat him to the draw years or centuries earlier. Archaeological evidence indicates that the discovery of America should be credited to nomadic people who crossed the Bering Strait from Siberia into Alaska some 15,000 to 20,000 years ago, gradually migrating to the continent’s eastern and southern extremes.

So by any measure, it’s clear that Columbus was a Chris-come-lately. And he is now widely vilified for perpetrating the enslavement and genocide of the original Americans he called Indians on the mistaken notion that he had landed in India, his intended destination. Hence, the celebration of Columbus Day has fallen under a dark shadow.

Looking closer to home, human discovery of the idyllic land bordering Lake Chapala is similarly shrouded in mystery. Obviously, the earliest inhabitants were indigenous tribes of the Mesoamerican era.

There is a theory floating around that wandering Nahuatl people passed through the region on their quest to find the Promised Land. Scores of enigmatic petroglyphs dot the local landscape, attesting to the passage of the ancients.   

Some folks say those forefathers of the Aztecs missed the mystical clue they sought to locate their landing place: An eagle perched on a nopal cactus growing from a rock. Darn good thing, because they probably would have put on the brakes, founded Tenochitlán and we’d be living in the middle of Mexico City today.

You can spot that ominous sign if you drive towards the mountain village of Mazamitla and stop to gaze back on the panoramic view of the north shore. The outline of an eagle, wings unfurled, appears on the bare red rocks thrusting from the hillside just west of Ajijic.

Spanish conquistadores were the first Europeans to tread on lakeside territory, just four years after Hernan Cortés and his troops landed at Veracruz. Greedy Spaniards had more interest in finding treasure and taking possession of the land than settling down to a quiet, peaceful life in these parts.

Franciscans friars who came on their heels were more intent on plunking down for a while to convert savage souls and introduce agricultural practices from the other side of the pond.

Intrepid travelers from distant latitudes began setting their sights on the lake and environs in the aftermath of the War of Independence. The earliest foreign residents – principally Europeans – arrived at the tail end of the 19th Century.

A budding colony of U.S. expatriates emerged from the years of World War II into the 1950s. The mass migration of Canadians started three decades later, intensifying as Nafta took effect.

As hundreds of new millennial explorers seek refuge from a world in turmoil, “discovery” of this magical place grows exponentially day by day.  There’s a first time for everyone.