Sierra Gorda Baptism

We’ve discovered the place where the two rivers meet – the warm one flows over a bed of sand and the cold one over stones – and where they merge the waters are warm and turbulent and the color of mouthwash.

After days spent venturing around the Sierra Gorda, hiking, talking, listening, learning, pondering bark beetle infestation, soil degradation, water contamination, the struggle for sustainable livelihoods in the face of climate change…we are drawn by the power of the water, transformed instantly from geologists and biologists and future saviors of the planet into jugadores – kids again - some of us diving, some jumping, some entering slowing, stepping gingerly across slippery rocks, then dipping down into the river and letting it envelop us, cleanse the dust and sweat and worry from our skin.

I feel the pull of the water on my limbs, but resist, tense my body against the tide and begin a furious crawl upstream, a game to outwit the current. Stroke, stroke, out of breath, I look up – I’m going nowhere. So I give in, relax my muscle, and allow the current to take me down, down, into the limestone crevice of the mountain, jagged peaks of green rising up, paper cutout moon against a flat blue sky. My lungs like a buoy, I float down, down, faster, deeper, rapids creating V's of velocity into which I steer. Then a tiny twinge of fear arises. Where is it taking me?

I look up, look back, look ahead, notice the others on the left bank, a flotilla gathering, and I steer myself toward them, paddling across the current, landing awkwardly, grasping for a rock, a hand, to pull me in. We climb the sandy bank, clinging to roots, hoisting each other up, and scamper upstream through the thicket of itchy grass, to start all over again.

Lured by the warm water, taken by nature’s force, we feel small again.

Then we head to Cascada El Chuveje to feel even smaller.