As we drove towards Maras and its ancient salt pans, we started to see the pink mountains, a lovely contrast with this greening field.
Our first sighting of the salt pans on the mountainside. Now we just had to try to figure out how to reach them.
We parked the van along the road and walked to salt pans here at Pichingoto.
We crossed the river on this bridge to hike up the hill to them.
The river looked very inviting on this hot day.
This is the water coming down the mountain from the salt pans. You can see the salt crystalizing along the edges.
These rocks attest to the fact that this used to be seabed. This looks like the chunks of coral we find around Michigan.
The salt pans are quite extensive. Each one is owned by different people and the salty water has to be directed so everyone gets some to make the salt.
The salt that dribbles over the edges and dries is very hard but looks like icing on a Christmas cake. The guy in the picture is actually
running a bag of salt over to the warehouse.
Looking down at some of the salt pans. There are many shades of salt in different stages of drying.
The water coming down from the top doesn't really look that nice. There are lots of minerals in the water.
Working the salt pans.
Like a giant, multi-tiered wedding cake on a slant.
Pretty impressive, I thought. It's been in use for hundreds of years and each family guards its salt pan with vigor.
Jason after we hiked up to the salt pans of Pichingoto at Maras.
There were lots of chunks of hard dirty salt cast aside along the pathways here.
I grabbed a chunk to take back to YOLO. It doesn't crumble; you would have to grate this to get it into crystals again.
Jason looking over the salt pan system.
The different pans are of different sizes and shapes.
There are pathways that workers use to get around in there.
Karen at Pichingoto salt pans at Maras.
The salt water that comes out of the top of the mountain here is directed into all the different salt pans.
Workers or family members collect, bag and store the salt in this warehouse until it is trucked to its destination for sale.
More coral rock along the pathway.
I scribbled YOLO onto a small, soft rock with another rock. It'll be gone when it rains next.
These clay animalistic figures were on lots of homes we saw in the area. Warding off evil spirits we guessed.
This guy at the bottom of the hiking path carves figures out of the hard blocks of salt.
He also sells different flavored and colored salts. I was tempted to try some of the smoked salt (the dark grey one), but didn't have any cash left on me.
On the way back to the van we came upon these guys making mud bricks for building. Mixed clay, straw and water and mushed the stuff into a wooden block. Lifted the block and left the bricks to dry on the road in the sun.
They let me write YOLO onto one of the freshly made bricks.
Kind of looks like fun until you saw the rate at which they made them. Then it looked like work.
Finished bricks are used to build the houses and other buildings here.
Some pretty colors pop out in the middle of the red mountains as we left Maras.
It was a long, steep hike up to see the salt pan operation that locals have been doing for centuries, but I was happy we stopped. Not many people actually get to see such activities these days.
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