I'm hesitant to post this as I know it is quite long. But, those of you who convinced me to do 'the blog thing' told me that this was something I should do for myself. So, lengthiness be damned..it's a week long trip full of once in a lifetime experiences, many of which I still haven't included!...


Magically Delicious

Back in the cozy, good ship TugTub, it's hard to imagine where my feet were just 24 hours ago. The words repeating in my head throughout our Copper Canyon journey were: “Magically Delicious”...just like the character in the Frosted Lucky Charms commercial used to sing.

Paul and I were able to briefly experience the highs and the lows of the Copper Canyon. Now that we've been there, we'd love to go back and do a few more of the in-betweens, as well as heighten the highs and deepen the depths. It was not easy or cheap getting there, but it was definitely worth both time and money.

Los Mochis
The first leg of the trip was from the boat in Topolobampo to the town of Los Mochis, where we stayed the night so that we'd be ready to board a 6 a.m. train. We also had to board our dog there because the little marina in Topo just didn't have any cruisers or workers hanging out who might be interested in playing with and caring for the scallywag. The marina manager turned us onto a great place to take care of the Zig, but I was still pretty traumatized to leave the doggie with strangers for 5 days. I tried to keep the fear factor in perspective and enjoy the town of Los Mochis. It's a very cool little city with a mix of old and new, we enjoyed a nice walk, hotel and dinner.

El Chepe
My doggie guilt and fear of missing the early train meant little sleep in our hotel, but the journey the next day was so spectacular I didn't feel tired. Pre-dawn darkness and flat beginnings evolved to rays of sunshine breaking across mountains that rose from the lowlands. The Ferrocarril Barrancas Del Cobre “El Chepe” train slowly ascended, winding through tunnels and over bridges, past one jaw-dropping, amazing vista after the next. How can you describe one of the world's greatest canyon country? It was all that. Sky, rock, water, birds, cliffs, trees, people, amazing. The interior of the El Chepe is definitely circa 1960's, and the dining car kind of reminded me of a 1970's Denny's, but the food was decent. Staff aboard the train were all helpful. A funky soundtrack played throughout, initially some great Mexican folk tunes, then occasionally lapsing into very weird Liberace-esque tunes. On the return journey, this particularly icky Liberace-ish portion of the soundtrack seemed endless.

There was an interesting mix of folks aboard, primarily Mexican tourists along with a handful of gringos, and commuters. While we tourists all had our noses pressed against the glass, the commuters pressed their faces to pillows, working to keep their blinds shut and to sleep for some of what would be about 15 hours travel to their destination in Chihuahua.

Both coming and going were spectacular rides, but I'd have to say the way home proved most interesting because of an intense rainfall the previous night. New waterfalls appeared, gushing off cliff faces, and the river had become a surging muddy force. It's power in carving some of the canyon became more obvious with surging waters and boulders running through.

Guides and (K)Nights
Our first night at the top of the canyon we stayed in Creel, we kind of made a mistake on this one, as we needed more time to take advantage of all the adventure trips that radiate out from the town. We just didn't quite realize how much time was involved in getting from point A to point B, and had pre-arranged a stay the very next day at one of the most luxe hotels in the canyon, the Posada Barranca Mirador. In the morning we were lucky, we walked toward Creel's Plaza en route to wait for a bus toward Posada Barranca, but instead of waiting for the bus, one of the local guides offered himself and his truck for hire. He would drive us not only to our next hotel, but also stop along the way at a couple of scenic spots. It was a win-win – we didn't have to wait for the bus and would get to see a few things off the beaten track, and he would have work, at least for half the day. As in almost every place we've been in Mexico over the past year, the tourism factor is: down-down-down - from boom town to ghost town. Because there's so few tourists, it feels good to at least be able to hire some folks along the way who want the work and are fantastically helpful. We hired a lot of drivers and guides during this journey, but I wish I could have hired a permanently attached translator too... I'm frustrated with my very basic Spanish speaking ability.

The luxe hotel was a once in a lifetime cliff-face view, amazing, amazing, amazing. A gorgeous sunset, and at 4:30 a.m. I was awake for an spectacular moonrise, then later the sunrise. During the train ride and in Creel, we met up with a lot of indigenous people, called Raramuri in their language, Tarahumara in Spanish. At every train stop or pause, women with babies sell their beautiful baskets made from pine needles and grasses, children sell bracelets and necklaces, boys and men occasionally hawk geodes and apples and such. Here in Posada Barranca, during the hotel sponsored loop hike, we were able to briefly visit a very small group living on the side of the cliff, and learn more about how they get their water, where and why they live in large groups or small, etc. During our little nature hike we also learned about some of the trees, seeds, teas, birds etc. Paul and I were with a small group of Mexican tourists on this hike, everyone was very patient with our limited Spanish and always so helpful to us and to the guide in translating. Several shared that they had decided - come hell or high-water, often against the advice of family and friends, that they were going to see this place - media fear-feeders and/or narcotraffickers be damned.

A lovely happy hour back in the hotel involved a solo guitar player/singer who played requests. This quickly became an old style sing-along around a roaring fire, and it was great for us to hear the Mexican sing along songs that everyone - except us - knew. Like “New York, New York” except it was “Chihuahua” or “Michoacan”.

Flying and Falling
Paul and I plotted our next day's adventure, the zip line! Okay, I'm not usually hot on the zip line thing... I'm not really sure about the relative “green” pros and cons of the industry and usually wouldn't sign up to wait in line versus just go hiking. But here we were, at the top of this amazing canyon...the idea of being able to fly across the peaks just seemed too, too, too well, too magically delicious not to try. Turns out this zip line is about a year old, and it is the third largest in the world! It includes seven different zip lines, plus two long swinging bridges, and then the aerial tram ride back. The cables and rigging were so fantastic, Paul and I admired how rigorous it all was in comparison to the boat. We felt completely safe with all of the gear. No need to worry about hoards of people, there were three of us visitors and three guides. I ended up really loving everything except the initial jump off. In the air, on the cable, I felt completely safe. After the first line, I was able to relax, look left and look right and to even look down ....soaking it all up and pretending I was a bird. But, convincing myself to set the process in motion by actually jumping on the line and off the cliff always took a little bit of extra time. And, for some reason, I was MOST nervous on the swinging bridges...they really get your heart going! All in all, I think the farthest down the earth was from under our feet was about 1500 feet or so. You are really freakin' high! We also enjoyed the aerial tram ride back to base, a fun bit of Swiss Alps type gawking.

But now that we'd explored a smidge of the top of the canyon, we decided we wanted to go to the bottom. After reviewing the options described in the ripped out Copper Canyon section of the Lonely Planet I carried, we decided to try the town of Urique, at the very bottom of one of the tallest canyons in the world. Again, it was a bit of a downer to realize the amount of travel time between point A and point B, but we just HAD to experience this! So, post zip line, we boarded a van to the train. We planned on riding the train for an hour or so, then getting off in a town called Bahuichivo with the hopes of catching a bus that would then descend for approx 3 to 3.5 more hours. Ugghhhh. But, the train was late...an hour or so... getting us uncomfortably close to night time driving down into the canyon. I was not looking forward to that. Then it turned out that because of the train's lateness, we missed the bus. So, once off the train in Bahachuivo we were lucky again to encounter another local person with a truck, a competent guide and driver. We had another negotiation and another win-win - Paul and I needed the ride, and Alberto could use the work.

The personalized drive would take an hour less than the bus, plus I imagined it would be a lot easier on the motion sickness factor than the big bus. From my perspective, the road was one death defying canyon rim and switch back after the next. Our driver and his wife were very sweet and very experienced on the road, so after a bit of time, Paul and my gasps became easier breathing, going with the flow....down....on dirt and gravel...down...down...down... to the bottom.


Urique ('ooreeekay') Okay
Considering the location, Urique is a pretty big town with about 1500 people or so. And, it is super, super gorgeous. Due to my lack of forward-planning and spotty internet connections along the way, I only had half-way made arrangements for a place to stay here. I emailed an inquiry to a Lonely Planet pick, Entre Amigos, received a wonderfully kind response, but then I was never able to get back online to confirm with the folks that we would actually be coming. So, I wasn't sure what to expect...but as with all things here, I felt confident that if Plan A didn't work out, surely another family/business would show up to help us with their Plan B.

The sun was setting as our driver/guide Alberto and his wife dropped us off and drove away for their long journey home – I felt really nervous about them driving the road in the dark, but they explained this was a regular commute for them. They have a new hotel (Jade Hotel) in Cerocahui (the main tourist town 30+ miles near the Bahachuivo train station) and frequently take guests and tourists up and down along the route. We waved goodbye, and Paul booked them for a return journey (yeeeaaah! Avoided the bus again :-)!

I started to think Plan B was getting ready to kick in, as we walked around our Entre Amigos compound and were surrounded by beautiful vegetable gardens and fruit trees, cabins and hostel houses, but no actual people. We were getting hungry, so we stored our gear in an open building and started walking toward town where we had seen a couple of restaurants - our driver Alberto had pointed out one place in particular.

Ahhh the outsiders, how many times can you say hello and good evening to all the folks in a small town ...and hear the chuckles of the kids... oh well. I guess there are worse things than providing folks with a good laugh. The Plaza restaurant was a great locale, and completely without menus, so we listened hard to try to “hear” what the waitress explained was available for dinner. Again, our limited Spanish means we're depending on the kindness of young women like our waitress, who patiently guided us to good selections. Soup for me, quesadillas for Paul. All fresh and delicious, along with home-made Totopos and salsa. Again in very limited Spanish, we met the restaurant owner, who explained he also had a hotel in town, and if we needed to we could stay there. Aha, Plan B! That would be Estrella Del Rio.

Once back at Entre Amigos, we found a light on and ended up rousting a sleeping host. The email I'd received earlier had explained that while the owner Keith was traveling in Oregon, a friend was staying at the compound along with some local staff. The friend was a man I'd initially heard about through other cruisers, Micah True, a.k.a “Caballo Blanco”. Indeed, it was Micah who awoke to greet us, explain the ropes and show us to our little cabin. He pointed out key elements...this way to the rustic outhouse, that way to the porcelain toilet outhouse, in the morning a man named Tomas would build a fire to heat water for a shower, etc. I had a thousand questions for Micah, but since we'd woken him I decided to try to hold off. He explained a basic few options for hiking etc the following day, Paul and I found the ping pong table and played a few rounds, enjoyed the candlelight and crickets, stars and fresh air.

Ultramarathon
Micah turns out to be quite legendary, and a person working to make a great contribution through his time on the planet. Among other things, he's in the midst of organizing his twelfth ultra marathon based in Urique. “Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon Mission Statement: La Paloma de Paz -
We come together in las Barrancas del Cobre to create peace and harmony, sharing with/of all that is provided to us by our Mother Earth.” The indigenous people, Raramuri, are famous for their running skills and their ability to maintain their independence and traditions. I'm not very knowledgeable about this, but apparently they're known for being barefoot uber long distance runners, and also for a tradition of running with a small wooden ball kicked in front of them. Both men and women run. Micah explained that last year's utlramarathon yielded about 250 Raramuri people participating, 60 or so Mexican nationals, and about 40 international runners. A movie,a book, and many magazine articles have profiled Micah and some of his colleagues. But Micah works to have both money and attention channeled toward the right people, and seems to maintain a low-profile, feet on the ground approach. Since returning from our journey, I've read a lot more about all of this. The more I read, the more I like.

“Award ceremony: That is when the top 10 Raramuri [Tarahumara runners] will be handed huge cash awards and notice of the award of mixed corn and beans to the various settlements of the top 10 runners. The corn/beans awards at the 2010 race turned out to be the value of 120,000 pounds of corn! The cash awards were over $11,000 dollars. All finishers after the top 10 will be awarded 500 pounds of corn. Any stateside runner that finishes in the winnings will have the opportunity to present his/her prize as "korima" [a gift/sharing] however he/she wants, to be given/shared with the finishing raramuri or towns-people.”


Humble Happy Feet
The next morning, Tomas introduced himself and offered up that wood fire and nice hot water. He and Micah described some of the trails and outings that they could help us with. We picked one long trail outing that Micah seemed particularly fond of, and Thomas rushed off to organize the day.

I was a little nervous about selecting the longer hike because, just at this crucial moment, the hiking shoes I'd carried aboard all this time decided to totally blow out. On the zip line I looked down to see one rubber sole completely seperating from the shoe itself. It was “downhill” from there, the other one was starting to self destruct too. I was leaving a trail of black rubber bits where ever I walked. All I had for footwear was the classic boat shoe, the Docksider. What? No arch support and gripping for these rocky trails? Would I survive? Paul and I chuckled, thinking about being in the heartland of the world famous barefoot runners, while I worried about my hiking shoes for a little day hike ....

An hour or so later, a little pickuptruck came to get us, Thomas's nephew at the wheel, along with some friends. We climbed up into the pickup bed, where an extra two carseats were placed in the back. Sweet! A few stops in town along the way – dropping off this person, picking up that person – and we were off! Micah had explained there was a good 6 miles of dirt and gravel road before we would get to the trail head. It was a pretty jarring, but fun, ride, we picked up a Raramuri family – young man and wife and their infant baby - in the midst of walking – to where I'm not sure, definitely not obvious to me. I offered my seat to the woman holding her infant, but she declined and sat atop an extra wheel in the back. I could only imagine that metal rim as being very painful, and was sorry that I couldn't convince her to take the seat.

We arrived at a swinging bridge...no, this was not on the zip line tour... this was the trail head. No one was going to clip me into this bridge and give me a helmet....yeeeikes. Thomas and his nephew ran out on the bridge to start spotting fish. Another man we had picked up along the way would end up spending the day fishing with Thomas' nephew. Maybe the aerial view would help?

Departing the mighty hunters, we walked across the swinging bridge, through a long arroyo, and then up, and up, and up. Three hours later, we'd only gone about two and a half miles. The view was amazing along the way, but it wasn't because we were stopping so often at scenic overlooks that caused our snails pace. I don't think poor Thomas realized how out of shape we were when he agreed to guide us – He might have spent more time sitting and waiting for us to catch up to him than he did actually walking.

The trail was beautifully maintained, but the route was – from my perspective – a pretty dramatic incline. We were huffing and puffing, a very humbling experience as we learned that this path was just one small section of the Ultramarathon. I tried to imagine running up the hills, over the rocks, etc. It's not only a trail, it's a basic route that a lot of people take to get from 'here' to 'there' on horses, donkeys, and on foot. Tomas said he didn't run the marathon, but there he was far, far ahead of us, picking cactus spines for toothpicks, stopping to pray at a rock alter to the Virgin, and explaining 250 year old cactus, plants, birds and animals along the way. Tomas also explained how Micah, “Caballo Blanco”, could continue running on this trail all the way to Baltopilas, accomplishing in 7 hours what would take others two or three days to complete. Once again, I was really limited by my crummy Spanish ability. My thousands of questions about nature and man had to stay in my head as I was unable to form anything but the most basic queries.

Eventually we heard a funny sound and looked up to see water. Irrigation! Huh?? We had arrived at Prosper Torres' farm. He was watering grapefruit trees, avocado trees, you name it, Prospero was growing it. Amazing! There were black plastic pipes gravity feeding water in very ingenious ways throughout. And so it was, Thanksgiving Day 2011, Prospero offered us grapefruit, nectarines, avocados, and other bounty from his hard work. Chickens and a rooster walked around, Prospero visited with Tomas while he loaded up cornhusks for animal feed and Paul and I collapsed onto some chairs that Prospero brought out for us to sit on. I could only eat half the grapefruit, it was that big and I was that spent. Eventually Prospero had completed enough of his work to stop and have lunch with Tomas. They invited us to eat too, but we honestly could not – that walk had taken everything out of us, and the grapefruit felt like a full Thanksgiving day meal. I think that this farm was initially supposed to be a little 'pit stop' on our way, but we were so slow that Tomas realized we'd have to head back down before the sun disappeared.

We collected a couple bags of goodies from Prospero for Tomas to take back home, and down we went. If only that trail had been all downhill, but of course it was not. More ups, more downs. It was however more down than up, and so it took us an hour less to get down. By the time we got to the swinging bridge, Tomas' nephew and friend had collected an amazing amount of fish. The friend was stringing them on a long grass, while the nephew finished cleaning each one. Thomas spotted more fish, and challenged his nephew to catch them. So, just when he thought his work was done, he had to run back to the truck, get the net, throw the net, and try to get those fish! We were losing daylight, and the guys were getting cold with their hands in the water, so off we went.

It was a great ride home, we picked up more riders along the way, Tomas and his family and friends and their gringo guests were all very happy. Once dropped off at Entre Amigos, Paul and I summoned the energy to walk back into town for dinner, same lovely Plaza Restaurant, another great meal. Of course, after riding in the back of the truck with all those fish, guess what I asked for - and enjoyed!

Later that night, the stars disappeared and the rain came. It was some pretty hard rain, a great noise on the tin roof. I imagined the road would be too bad for Alberto to come retrieve us, and in the morning the electricity was out. Later, Tomas arrived to build the fire and heat the water, and Maruka, a woman who also helps care for the place, arrived. Tomas showed us more of his amazing vegetable gardens as we waited for our ride. I had missed meeting Maruka the day before, a sign explained she could give cooking lessons – how to make different kinds of tortillas, yogurt, tofu etc. She told me that she'd been in a meeting the previous day, so that's why our paths had not crossed. Next time I'll take some cooking classes (after more Spanish classes!)

Alberto defied gravity and arrived to pick us up despite the rains, and we stopped along the way for breakfast at the Plaza restaurant in town. It turns out that he'd dropped off a couple there who were staying at his hotel and had come down with him in the a.m. to see the road to Urique. Once we were all aboard, we collectively spent the next couple of hours oooooohing and ahhhing as clouds were breaking up and wrapping themselves around the mountains we were driving through. There were three legs to the trip - we changed drivers and cars and switched in and out riders who were going different directions, everyone collectively sighing with contentment and excitement due to our special experience.

En route to the train, Alberto's wife ended up showing us a bit of the historic town of Cerocahui and their hotel, the Jade Hotel. She gathered us all quickly to rush off for the train, and then we waited...and waited...and waited. It was late again. No matter, interesting people to talk with while we waited, enough clothes to keep us warm, little markets for snacks, and a great view of the river and the hills. Eventually, the tardy El Chepe arrived, and off we went for yet another afternoon of magically delicious miradors.