La Pintada

I received a knock on my door this morning, "Hey, we're going to La Pintada today. Wanna come?"
It was the Pilliod family, all ready with the country music and their red truck, which they call "Little Mule," waiting outside.

"Sure!" I quick put in contacts, stuffed my money and passport in a bag, and hurried down the stairs to meet them.

An hour later, we find ourselves urging "Little Mule" on, as we chugged up the hill to La Cabana National Park. Our plan was to head to La Pintada, but since it was a clear day, we made a pit stop for pictures and a picnic of empanadas from Quesos Chela. The view was astounding..and I couldn't even believe I was looking at Panama. Lush green mountains lined with pine trees, bordered by sheer rock cliffs, contrasted with the serene, blue-grey ocean in the distance. You could see Chame, several little towns in between, and a cross on top of the nearest mountain. Plus, it was a gorgeous, sunny day with clear views in all directions.

Following this uphill adventure, we continued on to our destination town: La Pintada. La Pintada is known mainly for two things: 1) this is where the traditional Panamanian hats are made, and 2) there are rocks with petroglyphs here. Guess which of these we found??

Well, after driving down what seemed like every road in the little town, passing the church plaza area several times and a policeman who never stopped the crazy gringos in the pick up truck, we went down one road that said it led to the river. Sure enough, it did! I won't mention that we went off-roading down a steep hill to get there, but we found it!

It was wonderful to stretch our legs and climb over the tiny pools that had formed in the rocks along the bank and watch the sediment-laden river rush by us. We paused to take in the tranquility of it all: then suddenly, we heard branches crashing down right behind us. We whipped around, expecting to see an animal. But it was a person! He was a short man with sun-baked wrinkles, wielding a machete, and working to clear the land. He was wearing a sombrero pintado (painted hat-the traditional Panamanian hat). He gave us directions to the hat-making place.

We ended up not finding it, which is just as well because we later found out that everything in that town was closed for the holiday. We drove down little roads to explore awhile, and stumbled upon a cigar factory. The owner's face lit up when she saw us, and she agreed to explain to us a little bit about how they made the cigars. It was fascinating to learn about this local business; they literally roll each cigar by hand. They also had jewelry and hats for sale. Probably the only place open in the entire town that day. We paid her for her time.

Next, we went on a search up rugged mountain roads for the rocks with the petroglyphs. We didn't find them, but we did see a guy waiting on the side of the road. We asked him if he knew where the petroglyphs were and we'd give him a ride in the back of the pick up truck in exchange. Fair deal, he thought, and hopped in.

We drive back down the mountain, until there is barbed wire on either side of us, a thick, grassy area, laden with rocks and cow pies. Our "guide" starts enthusiastically pointing towards the side of the street. "This must be it," we agreed and pulled over.

What an adventure that was! Climbing over or scooting under barbed wire, crossing the river (good thing I had my Keens!), and finally following our guide to two different sets of rocks with moss-covered engravings on them. We would have NEVER found those petroglyphs without our guide. He said that there was another rock that had petroglyphs on it but it was currently underwater, but we could see it if we came back in March. Ha!

We dropped him back in town with our thanks and a tip and headed home, a little wet but savoring the fun, and a little loco, experiences we had in La Pintada and on our journey. We sang along to country tunes, and the "Little Mule" carried us back to Clayton once again.