A Visit to the Butterfly Sanctuary

The Monarch butterfly migratory areas in Mexico are mostly in Eastern Michoacan state at 10,000 feet (3100 meters). Only two of the sanctuary areas are "open to the public": the Cerro del Campanario located in the ejido "El Rosario", and El Llano de las Papas, in the Sierra Chincua. Both sanctuaries are located between the two jump-off towns of Angangueo and Ocampo.

The "butterfly season" starts in December and ends in April. The peak population is in March, as the new butterflies prepare for their journey north. We first visited and photographed the El Rosario - Cerro del Campanario sanctuary in mid-January, and have returned in December, January again, and twice in February. While all were worth the trip, February was the best - but most crowded. (but see below)

From Mexico City, drive (or take the bus) west to Zitacuaro, Michoacan viaToluca. You can also take the autopista, marked in green on the map, which continues on to Morelia and Lake Patzcuaro. The direct road is shorter - and cheaper. By car, figure four hours from Mexico City.

We had decided that we wanted to spend the night and go to the sanctuary in the early morning, so we planned our trip to arrive in the afternoon. From Mexico City we drove through Toluca (the worst part of the trip, since the signposting is inadequate and confusing! At Toluca you can either take the autopista (toll road) to Morelia, or the libre (free road) to Zitacuaro. While (or perhaps because!) there is a hairpin descent at one point, we enjoyed the libre more, and, depending on traffic, it is a bit faster. At Zitacuaro we turned north and drove through Ocampo. While there are connections from both Ocampo and Angangueo to the reserves, Ocampo is not a very attractive as a town - though less touristy. We think Angangueo is worth the extra 20 minute drive. (However, as of 2002 the road from Ocampo to El Rosario is better than the one from Angangueo.

We decided to continue to Angangueo, a charming community perched in a high valley. The town itself is worth a visit. Because it was once a prosperous mining town, there is a lovely main plaza, with two churches (!), attractive old buildings, and winding side streets. Not to be missed is the historical mural of the town, half a block up behind the "downhill" church. It fills both walls (and the sidewalk!) of a narrow, block-long alley.

After walking around the town, we settled on the "La Margarita" hotel 6 blocks or so below the plaza, with large rooms, lots of hot water, and fireplaces. Cost is $40 USD plus a charge for firewood if you want it (and why not? There's no TV!). There is another hotel just across the street, Don Bruno, for about $70 USD for a double, and there, and there are several "Casas de Huespedes" for around $15 for a double. For meals, the Don Bruno restaurant is designed for foreign tourists and charges accordingly. There is a small restaurant on the plaza, as well as stalls both on the plaza and in the nearby market. We enjoy breakfasting on sweet tamales and atole at one of the plaza stalls!

After checking in, we walked back up the hill to the plaza, and sat around the café until we got sleepy. The town is at around 9000 feet, so we were glad to have warm jackets! Several prospective guides approached us, one of whom, a kid about 18, offered to guide us in to the sanctuary by a back road, in our VW bug.

We had heard that you needed four-wheel drive, and we were a bit cautious about back-door arrangements. Instead, we contracted a guide (for 350 pesos, about $40 US) with his own Blazer in front of the Don Bruno hotel. We asked when we should be ready, and he told us 8 am. So next morning we rolled out of bed and started the easy part of the climb to 10,000 feet.

We drove up a twisty, very scenic road from the town. It turned out that Rudolf von Volkswagen, our trusty Beetle, would have made the trip just fine. It also turned out that the sanctuary didn't open till 9:00 and then not exactly on time, so we waited a bit at the gates.

The Cerro de la Campana reserve is on the El Rosario ejido (a "collective farm"). Althugh the reserve is controlled by the federal Biosfera de la Mariposa Monarca, since the sanctuary is on ejido land, the ejidatarios (members of the ejido) have pre-emptive rights. They can charge an entrance fee. Admittance is 15 pesos ($1.65 US) per person. In addition, each group is required to go with a guide, who expects a tip of between of about 40 pesos. (The government-set "minimum" wage in Mexico City is 40 pesos, about 30% more than the local "minimum" wage, so a guide could easily clear 3 or 4 times the minimum in a day, in season.) The ejido population is around 10,000, the ejido lands are farmed out, and there are only three alternative sources of income: logging, migration to the US or the butterflies. We were assigned a 14-year old guide, who (fortunately) had only worked a few days so far. After a quick tour of the neglected "visitors' center", we began our climb to the heights.

At 10,000 feet, a moderate climb becomes a challenge! The trail is gorgeous, winding through tall pines past misty vistas. But it was 10,000 feet. Fortunately, there are pleasant resting places conveniently spaced along the trail. Because we were early, we had the forest to ourselves.

When we reached a small clearing at the top (and caught our breath), the sun was just hitting the trees. A few butterflies were fluttering or sitting on branches, delightful and beautiful, but not the millions we were expecting.

It took us a while to figure out where the butterflies were. As we walked further into the trees, we noticed large clumps, like some kind of bird nest, suspended from the branches.

On closer inspection, we realized that each "clump" was actually a cluster of thousands of butterflies huddled together for the night. In the picture above, these are the darker spots. There were hundreds of clusters, sometimes a dozen or more on a single tree. In some places, the clusters were still in darkness. Other clusters were already in sunlight. As the sun hit the butterflies on the outside of the packed mass, it warmed their wings, so that they were able to fly.

In the still above, the darker spots are butterfly clusters the sun has not yet hit, while the orange areas are clusters or individual butterflies which have left the group and are settled on branches.

In this image, the right side of the frame is filled with clusters of butterflies, while you can see individuals which have just left the "nest" warming their wings on the branch to the left. Once your wings are warmed up enough to fly, it's time for a drink of water! There was a very small stream - almost more of a large damp area - in the clearing. After resting on a convenient branch for a few minutes, the butterflies would fly to the "seepage" and settle down on the ground for a drink. Soon, the ground was covered with tens of thousands of butterflies drinking water from the damp ground. The air was filled with more monarchs on their way to or from the watering spot.

And more and more butterflies were leaving the clusters as we watched in awe. As the morning progressed, our solitude was replaced by more and more visitors with their guides. There is only a very small area - no more than a few hectares - where visitors are allowed to walk among the butterflies, so it quickly began to get crowded.

The folks in this photo are watching the butterflies drink. The trail up is behind them, but there are no "clumps" that way. From this point, you can only walk about 300 meters along a single trail into the trees

The guides are, rightly, very concerned to minimize the impact of the visitors on the butterflies. It was clear that our young guide had been given guidelines, and that his job was to make sure we did not step on the butterflies, nor stray from the narrow trail once we were in the sanctuary proper. And as the morning progressed, and more and more visitors arrived, we could certainly see why. Most of the visitors were adults or teenagers, mostly foreigners. But groups of Mexican schoolchildren also came. Naturally they were more bouncy, and less careful of where they walked - or ran.

It was a miniature lesson in the human impact on the environment. Of course we all were trying to be careful and respectful, including the kids, but it was clear that the thousands of visitors were, cumulatively, a threat to the delicate creatures we had come to see. In any case, we were very thankful that we had arrived before the "crowds" (dozens, not thousands!). The chance to be alone for an hour or so with the butterflies, and to catch a glimpse of what their lives are like without other human intrusion was truly sublime.

There was a trade-off, however. After 90 minutes with the butterflies, our young guide announced it was time to go. We told him we were not ready to go, and that we were going to stay at least another hour. He became quite agitated, both because he was worried about losing the chance of a tip from the next group of sightseers, and because he had been instructed to get his charges out of the area after an hour and a half. We insisted, and agreed on a larger than average tip (we gave him 60 pesos), but his continuing discomfort was distracting. If he had been older, he would have put up more of a struggle.

As a result, we decided to leave after about two and half hours with the butterflies. In fact, ninety minutes is as much as most visitors would want to stay. Because of the limited area in which you are allowed to move, and (for us, at least) because of the increasing numbers of visitors, there was not much more to do or see than what we had already done. So we left before noon, and well before all the butterflies were warmed up and flying around. We missed the full splendor of the experience.

So I think it is important to decide just how you want to visit the sanctuary. If you want solitude, get there early. If you want maximum display, and don't mind screaming kids, get there around 1 pm. If you think you'll want to stay more than 90 minutes, make an arrangement with the guides before you go up. Since we did not do so, I can't say for sure that they would actually be willing to let you stay longer than 90 minutes! We may well have been lucky to have a young and inexperienced guide!

After our first visit, we decided to make "A Journey to the Butterflies", a half-hour video on visiting the Monarch sanctuaries in Michoacan, Mexico. The video is informative and upbeat, ending with spectacular shots of the millions of butterflies we filmed in 2001. However, one of the things that we tried to show, gently, in the video was the human impact on the butterflies in their winter habitat. In Mexico, there are two big impacts: logging and butterfly tourism. The sanctuaries are officially and legally protected, but they are, of course, in magnificently forested areas at 3100 meters (10,000 feet). Government protection extends to the trees, but it is one thing to write great laws, and quite another to enforce them, particularly in the desperately poor areas where the butterflies hibernate.

I did not actually particularly want to see the butterflies. If it had not been for Deborah, who insisted on seeing them, I would never have gone. But I'm more than glad I went. There have been a few sublime experiences in my life that I think of as moments when I could have died content: sitting on Lykabettos hill watching the sunrise over the Acropolis at Athens, drinking tea in the oldest zen monastery in Japan as the moon rose over the mountain - and visiting the butterflies.

Pacho Lane

Definitely worth the trip!