Candela, Coahuila:
a hub for adventures rich in history, landscape, & wildlife

By By George J. Altgelt

I have had the pleasure of exploring the diverse geographical region around Candela, Coahuila, thanks in large part to the hospitality of Rosaura and Omar Tijerina, who have allowed me and my family to enjoy their old Candela home.
The modest though well-equipped adobe structure with its long kitchen, thick walls, and homey patio has been a comfortable place to begin and end all the adventures we have had in the area.
My introduction to the beautiful old town came several years ago as a guest of the Tijerinas, and since then I have always held a sweet spot for the serenity of the place, its homes of so many beautiful wooden doors, and its friendly residents.
Candela is just under two hours from Nuevo Laredo if you tended to your travel documents in advance. Hwy.1, which takes you from Nuevo Laredo to Anahuac, though narrow, is in pretty good shape. After Lampazos, the road to Candela cuts off in the general direction of Monclova.
A weekend stay in this town of about 1,700 offers visitors a retreat from the fast-paced tempo of life along the border. It is the peal of church bells, the bray of burros, roosters crowing, bird calls, and the conversation of friends walking along the sidewalk that constitute the restful audio backdrop of Candela.
The town's old structures, the lovely shaded plaza, the sierra in such dramatic proximity, the vast ranchlands, and El Río Candela give the town its unique character. The accessibility of other nearby natural and historical features makes Candela a hub of sorts for day trips rich in history, landscape, and wildlife.
BUSTAMANTE:
WOOD-OVEN BREAD
Y LAS GRUTAS
Our first adventure in the area was a day trip to nearby Bustamante, a town famous for its baked goods, its springs and water resorts, Las Grutas del Palmito, and chairs and benches with seats of woven palm frond fiber.
Both the drive on the switchbacks and the hike to Las Grutas -- when you can't drive anymore to reach the cave entrance at 3,000 feet above sea level -- provide a rare view of a diverse ecosystem that includes maidenhair fern, cacti, sagebrush, palms, mountain laurel, salvia, pin oak, agave, aloe, and yucca. The sight of thousands of Monarch butterflies alight on blooming cenizos and a ringtail cat made our trek memorable, as did a late afternoon meal of cabrito at the Hotel Ancira back in town.
CUATRO CIÉNEGAS:
GALÁPAGOS IN THE DESERT
On a subsequent visit to Candela, we drove a good part of a day to get through Monclova, aka Little Pittsburgh, and on to our desired destination, the spring-fed, saltgrass marshes of bright blue water in the 500-acre biological reserve of the valley of Cuatro Ciénegas. The pozas of this region, clearly marked from the highway and protected by the Mexican government since November 1994, are inland desert wetlands fed from channels that route mineralized water from deep aquifers. The pozas and lagunas of Cuatro Ciénegas are known for an incredible variety of endemic aquatic species that include cichlids, tetras, snails, box turtles, grass shrimp, pupfish, and a variety of waterfowl and reptiles. The bright blue waters of the pools of the valley of Cuatro Ciénegas contrast with the broad white expanses of gypsum dune fields that are downwind of the salt lakes.
A snorkeling mask, fins, and an underwater camera were just the ticket for our time in water that offered incredible visibility.

LA MESA
DE LOS CATUJANOS
Our most recent trip to Candela included a hike to La Mesa de los Catujanos, which is a 40,000-acre ranch owned by the Milmo family of Mexico City. With our able guide, a young man from Candela, we left early one Sunday morning for a climbing trek along rocky terrain, a two and a half-hour climb that rose about a thousand feet to the mesa that bears the name of the last indigenos who lived there, the Catujano tribe.
After a couple of hours on the rocky trail to arrive at a place so remote from the rest of the world, pretty little Candela below us took on the dimensions of a well-developed metropolis.
Dry stacked stone formed the peripheral fences of the ranch and the corrals.
On the morning we arrived and exchanged introductions with the ranch foreman, we learned that he had just put down a horse with two broken legs. He showed us the bloodied hide stretched across the expanse of a stuccoed stone wall. Without electricity and refrigeration to store the meat, he was in the process of making carne seca of long thin strips of horse meat drying on a clothesline. Busy with this and the other work of running the cattle ranch and the Milmo hacienda, he generously offered our guide the keys to an ancient Willys Jeep that was years ago brought up in pieces by burro and then reassembled on the mesa.
We started the Willys by priming the fuel pump with a hand-held air pump that you would use to inflate a basketball. We push-started it by popping the clutch and then drove out onto the vastness of the mesa. We took a look at the ruins of the historic stone fort and tower built by the Spaniards, a tower with gun ports that opens out onto the valley and the sierra--the tower from which the Catujanos reportedly made their last stand against the colonizers. The fort predates the other ancient structure on the ranch, the quarried stone chapel that is a replica of a church in Patricio Milmo's Irish homeland.
On the way back from a look at the fort on the back of the mesa, the clutch gave out. We were somewhere between the middle of nowhere and the ranch HQ when the discovery was made, presenting us with the difficulty of how to get the gates. We could shift as long as we were moving, but if we had to stop, that meant the vehicle would not be able to re-engage into gear from a dead stop. One of the ranch hands jumped out to get the gates while our guide went in slow, wide circles until the gates were opened and then closed behind him.
To my great surprise there were places on the mesa where junipers grew in clumps and so did bluebonnets, which evoked the landscape of the Texas Hill Country.
We heard the distressing news that the ranchers kill black bear, fox, and other wildlife instead of keeping the mesa as a preserve. The place is breathtaking, accessible only by hike or by burro.
The hike up to the Mesa de los Catujanos was my first serious outdoor adventure with my wife, Rosa Elia. She complained at first of the initial rigors, but love triumphed over unwillingness to continue the climb and we seized the day together. Since our marriage a short eight months ago, this in my eyes was the single most incredible moment together since we said "I do" at the altar. In the name of love she conquered her own physical challenges and mustered the fortitude to finish the climb. Her climb up the mesa is reflective of the support that she provides me every day in my climb through law school. I am thankful to God for the opportunity to climb up life's challenges with someone as noble as my wife by my side.

(George J. Altgelt is a student at St. Mary's University School of Law in San Antonio, where he lives with his wife Rosa Elia.)