One evening early in our time in Lo de Marcos, Lori and I thought it might be time to pull up a map and start thinking about the journey south.
Up until then, our route had more or less been laid out for us. Long stays in San Carlos, Mazatlan, and Nayarit were non-negotiables.
But south of Nayarit? A whole other story.
Choosing Our Route South
In 3.5 years of living in Mexico, we’ve covered a lot of ground, including the entirety of Nayarit and Jalisco, the length of Baja, and a bit of Sinaloa. A decade ago, we did a two week road trip around the Yucatan Peninsula.
But the Mexican Pacific Coast south of the Puerto Vallarta area remained a big fat blank spot.
The Oaxacan Coast has been near the top of our list for many years. So when we set off on this adventure, we figured we’d head down to Nayarit, then eventually on to Oaxaca. But three coastal states and hundreds of miles lay in between. What then?
One of our neighbors in San Carlos told us that their ultimate destination in Mexico was a place called Melaque (that is, before they got waylaid in San Carlos indefinitely). We’ve heard good things about the neighboring town of Barra de Navidad from the cruising community. So that seemed like a natural stop.
We toyed with the idea of spending some time in Puerto Vallarta, which still has what is reputed to be a decent RV park not far from Marina Vallarta. It turned out to be much more expensive than we wanted to spend, and much farther from the Centro than we wanted to be. Plus, we felt like we’d seen most of what there is to see in Puerto Vallarta.
South seemed much more enticing.
So, when we learned about a possible option in El Tuito (which we knew of as one of Jalisco’s famous Raicilla producing towns), we were intrigued.
Rancho Primavera just outside El Tuito is a very popular destination among birders, but there isn’t a lot of information about staying there in an RV.
It appears that it’s a regular stop for tent campers and overlanders in smaller rigs, but with no hookups and a rough road in, it looked like we might be out of luck with our 25-foot long, 11-foot high, 11,000-lb. casa rodante.
Still, Lori went ahead and gave them a call to ask if it was possible. Possible? Sure. Had they ever hosted something as big as a Class C? Apparently not. But the friendly lady on the other end of the line seemed committed to making it happen—going so far as to even lopping off low-hanging tree branches.
We thought we’d give it a try. Why not?
So, on Thursday morning, with the crew healthy again and in good spirits. We packed up our home in Lo de Marcos and hit the road south.
That is, after one last play date with the little boy next door, who had just returned from a trip to Guadalajara the night before.
New Highway to Puerto Vallarta
Getting in and out of Lo de Marcos with a large rig is not the easiest thing to do—no thanks in part to the many locals who advise driving up and down the main drag (the most congested thoroughfare in town and often only one car-length wide due to parked cars).
I did it on our way to Chacala and will never make that mistake again. This time, I opted for the wide and well-maintained gravel road next to our RV park.
This would have been a really slick option if it connected all the way to the highway. Unfortunately, it dead ends one block short.
The cut-over road proved a bit too narrow for my tastes, especially with impatient drivers who refuse to simply hold back for a couple of seconds.
We had one close call with a know-it-all American woman who insisted on plowing ahead despite our insistence that the passage between our rig and a parked vehicle was too tight.
If it weren’t for hanging out the window and practically begging her to stop her car and back up, we most certainly would have ended up with a massive streak across our driver’s side the color of her little hatchback.
Once out of town, the highway was all clear headed south. But we weren’t turning south—heck no!
To come this close to having driven the entirety of the new expressway from Guadalajara to Puerto Vallarta and not doing it would have been a travesty.
It was worth the US$10 and few extra miles headed north to be able to ride the final stretch of 70D (or 200D depending on which map you’re using) which had opened less than a month prior.
Plus, it means we get to finally bypass the excruciating slow and mountainous stretch between Sayulita and Bucerias.
An hour later, we were back in Jalisco—and back in “The Friendliest City in the World.”
We were also back to stressful driving. Having driven in and around PV numerous times when we lived in the area, I knew what I was in for—and was not looking forward to it one bit in an RV.
And if that weren’t enough, as we’re hitting the road, Lori says, “I read online that there’s a section of PV that we’re not allowed to drive on.”
Say what? But where?
“Oh, just three or four miles between the airport and Centro. Heavy vehicles with dual wheels are supposed to be on the lateral or we’ll get pulled over and have to pay a big fine.”
Great.
In case you happen to be in this situation with an oversized vehicle, you’re looking for the sign that says “Vehiculos de Carga” just before the airport.
Basically, you’ll want to take the exit to the airport, but instead of turning into the airport arrivals/parking, veer slightly left to get onto the Av. Francisco Medina Ascencio lateral (frontage road).
You’ll remain on this for about 3.5 miles until the Coppel department store, where you should be able to rejoin the center/thru lanes.
The tricky part for us was that we needed to make sure we didn’t miss the left-hand turnoff for Libramiento Luis Ronaldo Colosio which takes you through “The Big Tunnel” (El Tunel Grande).
Lori had us routed to Coppel, but not beyond that. She hadn’t realized that our turn comes immediately after the Coppel.
I saw the turn at the last minute on a green-turning-red light, crossed EIGHT lanes of traffic from the right-hand lateral, barely making the turn.
Risky move in a 5-ton vehicle, but if I hadn’t, we would have ended up deep in the Centro during mid-afternoon dinner hour with no chance of turning around.
Fortunately, drivers in Mexico aren’t unfamiliar with these sorts of erratic maneuvers. In the U.S., I would have never considered pulling such a stunt.
Through the tunnels, a few blocks in the Romantic Zone, then we’re out of the city.
From here, it’s a scenic drive along the coast, dotted with small picturesque coves and all-inclusive resorts. Just before Boca de Tomatlan, Highway 200 makes a sharp left-hand turn, slicing across Cabo Corrientes and plunging inland for the next 80 miles.
We reach the farthest point we’ve driven south so far on Highway 200—Puerto Vallarta Botanical Garden—and continue driving an additional 30 minutes (and 2,000 feet) up to today’s destination—El Tuito.
Along the way, there’s a bakery—Panaderia Los Pinitos—that was a recommended spot to stop for sweet empanadas among other things. All their bread products are still made in a wood fire oven the old fashion way.
We grabbed a handful for breakfast the next morning and carried on.
El Tuito & Jalisco Hooch
El Tuito is yet another town I wouldn’t recommend cruising around in a motorhome. On this particular day, the parking gods showed favor upon us, and we were able to squeeze through town with surprising ease.
It only takes one parked car (or one very large truck coming in the opposite direction) to make things pretty hairy. I wouldn’t have even bothered driving into the Centro in the first place if I didn’t have to. But there’s really only one way to get to the ranch we’re staying at, and that’s right through town.
I turned down a side street and found what seemed to be a decent spot. Later, I would discover that I picked about as central a spot as you can get in El Tuito—across from both the pizza place AND the town church, and next to one of the best-disguised Raicilla “shops” in town.
El Tuito is certainly an agreeable place. At nearly 2,000 feet above sea level, it’s noticeably cooler here (and not nearly as humid). The town is small, but tidy and well-maintained.
It’s quiet, but there’s a definite lived-in feel here, with people going about their daily lives. In that respect, it feels quite different than other Pueblos Magicos that we’ve stayed in like Jala, which feels very much like it exists just for its value as a tourist town.
Since we had to drive through town to get to the ranch, we figured we’d stop and do some sightseeing while we’re here. El Tuito’s main draw is its Raicilla culture and prominence as a top producer.
Raicilla is a spirit native to Jalisco that’s a lot like tequila. But instead of being fermented and distilled from blue agave, it’s made from a number of other distinct agaves native to the regions in which they are produced. The result is a fruitier or smokier spirit than tequila, depending on the elevation. Most of the Raicillas here in El Tuito are made with the local Yellow Agave.
We first learned of Raicilla from my brother-in-law several years ago, but weren’t able to get our hands on any until we moved to Sayulita. We made a pilgrimage to the birthplace of Raicilla near Mascota—the tiny village of Cimarron Chico de la Raicilla—hoping to discover the motherlode, but were sorely disappointed.
San Sebastián del Oeste proved a better destination to sample the regional hooch, but we had heard time and again that El Tuito was the real deal. And here we are.
Families in El Tuito have been making and drinking Raicilla for generations. But up until just a few years ago, it was illegal to buy and sell the stuff. For that reason, most of the producers in town still sell their product right from their homes.
Our first hot tip led us to this home, a bit of a walk from the main plaza. The boys sat patiently (and, admittedly, somewhat awkwardly), while mommy and daddy tried samples of a few different colored liquids served by a young man in his mother’s home.
Residents in El Tuito don’t charge for the tastings, just if you buy a bottle. We found that this was the norm throughout town.
We originally thought about visiting one more house after this one, but decided to call it a day instead. The Raicilla here was super strong (legit firewater) and we still needed to get our home a few more miles down the road in a couple of hours.
Looks like we’ll need to resume our Raicilla hunt another day when we have a taxi and a full stomach.
On that note, time for dinner. There wasn’t a lot of places open midweek after 4pm. But the pizza place (Provecho) was. And it was pretty tasty. We also discovered that it’s the local gringo hangout. No surprises there.
While in town, we stopped by the local purified water place to get our garrafon filled.
It ended up being a bit farther from the RV than we had thought, so I got to carry a heavy leaky five-gallon monster on my shoulder the 10-minute walk back. RV life in Mexico.
Rancho Primavera Surprises
After threading our eight-foot-wide needle through El Tuito’s narrow cobblestone streets, we continued along the road to Chacala (the one in Jalisco, not the one in Nayarit where we used to live—not confusing at all), eventually coming upon the rutted out dirt track peeling off from the main road.
Are you sure about this? I asked Lori. She assured me that owner had given an emphatic approval and we were all good. I proceeded.
Moments later, we arrive at a rudimentary stone bridge crossing a creek. The bridge seemed just wide enough to drive over. You still sure about this? Another yes.
After clearing the small bridge, we made our way through a small thicket just wide enough (and branches just high enough) to accommodate the Winnie.
Minutes later, we arrive at a cattle guard and the main gate to the property. The gate was open and just a bit wider than the cab portion of the RV. But there are two narrow wooden fences staked into the ground on both sides making the opening too narrow to pass.
With night falling, no cell service, and few other options, I felt we had no other choice but to yank one of the small fences out and try and put it back the best we can.
It took a few minutes, but Lori and I managed to pull the thing out, giving us just enough clearance to pass. Hopefully they won’t be too upset about that. The owner said she’d like to be able to host more RVs, so we’ll just call this a feasibility study.
Within eyesight of the ranch, we had one more hurdle to clear—some fairly substantial low hanging branches. Lori hopped out and watched as I eased our home ever so slowly through the tight space. It’s never fun to hear scratching, but once you’re in it, what can you do? Going backwards just makes it worse.
As long as it isn’t hurting the awning or the hardware on the roof, it all just adds a bit of character.
Finally, we had arrived. Not looking forward to the journey out of here, but fortunately we’ve got a few days until we have to worry about that.
We were met by the warm and friendly owner, Bonnie, who gave us a quick tour. Currently, they only had guests up at the cabins, so we could basically park ourselves anywhere on the property. She made some suggestions as to where the most level areas (and guest favorites) were, and we opted for a wooded grove between two corrals.
It took a bit of time to level, but we finally landed on a good place—not so much for us, but for the fridge. It’s dry camping here at Rancho Primavera, which is the main reason we’ve decided to stay just a couple of nights. But our fridge runs off of propane (in addition to 120 volt electric), and there’s a water fill a short walk away.
The sun had already set and I was still busy leveling, with the help of Lori and a headlamp. As I was backing up, a large, green bird flew across the drivers side window. Was that a…? No, it can’t be. I was certainly exhausted and hungry, but I don’t usually start hallucinating after a long day. Was it the Raicilla?
Then it happened again. Yep, that was definitely a Guacamaya!
I open the side door and the Guacamaya (what they call Macaws in Mexico) is standing there looking right at me. An escaped pet, perhaps? Then another flew by. And another. I shine my light up into a nearby tree and there were three eyeing me.
These photos were taken the next morning, but you get the picture.
We knew that the ranch was a big birding destination, but turns out that they also rescue and rehabilitate Guacamayas that have been captured, kept as pets, and oftentimes abused.
Most that can are free to roam, but stay close to their food source because they’ve been domesticated or injured prior to arriving at the ranch.
Owner Bonnie loves birds, but she might just love her horses the most. For decades, she was a renowned equestrian trainer.
The boys haven’t had many opportunities to get up close and personal with horses, so this was a real treat.
Probably the best part about RVing in Mexico is that we never really know what we’re in for at each stop. Beyond iOverlander and Google Maps reviews, there oftentimes isn’t a whole lot of information about these places.
That was particularly true of Rancho Primavera. We knew it was a large property popular with birders that offers dry camping and accommodation.
We knew that Bonnie was friendly and talkative based on Lori’s phone conversation with her. And we knew that the road in would be a bit rough but doable.
Everything beyond that has been one surprise after another.
Mid-morning, we took advantage of the cooler mountain climate to do a hike around the ranch.
It’s the tail-end of dry season here, so things are looking pretty brown and scrubby—but a nice hike nonetheless. We were just happy to be able to walk for 10 minutes without being drenched in sweat.
Unfinished Business in El Tuito
After lunch, we took a taxi back to El Tuito for the afternoon. The ranch is great, but there isn’t a whole lot to do in the afternoon when things start to heat up. Besides, we still had some sightseeing to do in town, and we hadn’t taken home a bottle of famous El Tuito Raicilla.
Our first stop was at a coffee shop off the main plaza, aptly named Cafe Plaza. Noe used to play dominoes with his classmates back in La Paz and nearly flipped when he saw they had a box. We didn’t plan to linger, but hey, our Mexican-educated kid loves dominoes.
After Noe wiped the floor with Riley and me, we continued our quest for a bottle of El Tuito’s best. That of course means more visits to peoples’ eclectic abodes.
Finding the homes in town that produce Raicilla isn’t the most straightforward endeavor. You have to ask around. We asked the owner of the pizza parlor the previous day for recommendations and he simply pointed across the street to a white plastic chair in a door way—which is where we find ourselves today.
If you’re curious, those water jugs, above, are filled with Raicilla—not an uncommon sight in living rooms around here. Another friendly family, but a wicked-strong batch of hooch. The search continues. There are certainly worse ways to spend a Friday afternoon.
Our final stop brought us right back where we started—the next door neighbor of the first place. The boys know the drill.
Alright boys, mommy and daddy are going to step into the other room for a moment and be right back. Be good!
The hygiene practices may have been dubious at best, but we can honestly say the Raicilla at this place is the best we tasted in town. Perhaps best of all, it comes packaged neatly in a repurposed Oso Negro Vodka bottle, so you know it’s good.
If you find yourself in El Tuito and just want to grab a quick bottle, the place is Raicilla Rancho Las Higueras located at Guadalupe Victoria No. 6 across from Panaderia Don Ramon. But if you have the time, we highly recommend embarking on your own journey of discovery across town.
Learning to Horse Ride Back at the Ranch
Back at the ranch, one of the Guacamayas had seemingly taken up residence on the RV, and didn’t leave until we rolled out the next day.
Dry camping for us means dipping into our sacred stash of canned foods from the U.S. It’s next to impossible to find what amounts to a meal in a can here in Mexico. Refried beans and peppers? Sure. A hearty stew. Not on your life.
Can you spot the Guacamaya?
Both boys absolutely loved their time at Rancho Primavera. In addition to being a kid’s dream property, Riley loved having a friend to play with (one of the staff’s kids), and Noe fulfilled his dream of getting to ride a horse.
Bonnie had asked both boys if they wanted to give it a try. Riley firmly declined, then ran off to play with his buddy. Noe emphatically said yes. She rounded up her oldest and gentlest stallion—the same horse she taught her own grandkids on—and proceeded to give Noe an impromptu expert crash course in riding, from mounting to dismounting and everything in between.
We really can’t say enough about Bonnie & Co. and Rancho Primavera. Who would have thought a two night stay that we originally booked as a place to sleep near El Tuito would be one of our most memorable RV stops to date?
If you’re thinking about visiting in any rig bigger than a camper van, be sure to call ahead first and ask about the condition and clearance of the driveway coming in.
They don’t sound like they regularly accommodate larger vehicles, but went out of their way to make it work for ours after we reached out ahead of time.
Back on Highway 200, it’s south we go to Punta Perula!
