For a while I’ve been asking myself how it’s possible that I keep finding new natural wonders to write about for this column after 25 years of living near Guadalajara.

(This week, I have invited paragliding aficionado Mitch Ventura to pen this column, to describe the first Ecotourism and Organics Fair held in Chinicuila, Michoacan from June 11 to 13. You may be surprised, as I was, at how much was going on in this remote pueblito. John Pint)

I was invited to fly my paraglider for this Ecotourismo y Organicos Fair, but did not have exact directions on how to get there. After looking for Chinicuila (pronounced chee-knee-KWEE-lah) in Google Earth, one would think that it was very close to Villa Victoria, and it turned out to be lot closer than I originally thought. It is, in fact, one and the same town – the name was changed from Chinicuila to Villa Victoria some time ago, representing both the town and the municipal seat. Many locals, however, still refer to the older name and one can see “Chinicuila” written on many objects (including the public waste bins and signs used for the fair).

“I want to take you on a hike to a place that’s out of this world, with a view that you’ll never forget.”

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. All the previous invitations of this sort from my friend Franky Alvarez had resulted in marvelous adventures and this turned out to be no exception.

Ixtlahuacán Peak (El Picacho de Ixtlahuacán de los Membrillos) is located five kilometers north of Ajijic and hiking to the top of it, according to Franky, would take a mere 90 minutes (more about that later). We decided to meet at Los Burritos de Moyahua restaurant – on a weekday morning, so we would have the peak all to ourselves. From here it was just a 20-kilometer drive to the trailhead. We parked in front of the house of a man named Fidel, who is willing to keep an eye on your car if you ask him to. “I usually bring Fidel a gift of food,” said Franky, “which he really appreciates.”

In previous columns I have reported the results of my search for the birthplace of tequila, which happily brought me into contact with numerous brands of Mexico’s national drink that I had not previously heard of. This line of pursuit naturally led to a new question, “Which tequila is the very best?” Well, having been born in Milwaukee might qualify me for voicing an opinion on what makes a good beer, but I naturally turned to my Mexican relatives for opinions on what is the best tequila—and who among them could possibly know more than my father-in-law, Francisco Ibarra, who recently celebrated his 102nd birthday?