You’ll follow ancient Pericu trails through Sierra de la Laguna with a local guide, learning about lost cultures and desert life. Pause for lunch at a working ranch—handmade tortillas, local cheese—and cool off in natural springs before heading back. It’s not just hiking; you’ll feel part of something older than any resort.
The hike is about 4 miles on medium irregular terrain.
Yes, traditional lunch at a local rancho is included in the tour price.
You’ll have the chance to soak or cool off in one of the reserve’s natural water springs at the end of the hike.
Wear sturdy shoes, bring sun protection, and let them know if you have food restrictions.
The tour includes pickup in an air-conditioned vehicle from your accommodation.
A local guide leads the hike and shares stories about native flora, fauna, and culture.
The trail has medium difficulty with some rocky sections; moderate fitness is recommended.
Your day includes hotel pickup by air-conditioned vehicle, entrance fees to Sierra de la Laguna Reserve, bottled water and protein bars for along the trail, damiana tasting at lunch, plus a traditional meal with handmade tortillas and ranch cheese before returning to your resort.
Boots crunching on loose stone, I followed the zigzag of our small group as we started up the canyon in Sierra de la Laguna. Our guide, Ana, paused to brush her hand over a spiky green shrub—she called it damiana and laughed, saying it’s good for the nerves (I tried a leaf; it tasted oddly sweet and earthy). Sun was already warming my shoulders but the air still felt fresh, almost sharp. We kept stopping because Ana would spot something—a bird call, a cactus flower—and tell us stories about the Pericu people who once moved through these same riverbeds. I’d never heard of them before this hike near Los Cabos; now I can’t help picturing their footprints under ours.
The hike itself wasn’t exactly easy—some stretches were rocky and my legs wobbled more than I’d like to admit—but Ana set a pace that worked for everyone. She pointed out where water runs after rain and explained how most of Los Cabos’ clear water comes from up here. There was this moment when we crossed a patch of shade and everything went quiet except for our breathing and distant cowbells. That silence felt thick somehow—like the mountain was listening too. We passed a few rancheros on horseback; one tipped his hat at us with a half-smile, dust swirling around his boots.
Lunch at the rancho was simple but honestly kind of perfect—fresh tortillas puffed right off the comal, crumbly white cheese (Ana said it’s made here), beans that tasted smoky from the fire. Someone poured us little glasses of damiana liqueur and I tried to toast in Spanish; got a laugh from our host for mangling it. Before heading back, we cooled our feet in one of the reserve’s water springs—cold enough to make me yelp. Still think about that shock of cold against sunburnt skin. The drive back to town felt quieter somehow; maybe just tired or maybe letting all those new things settle in.

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