Story nd photo by Leo Buijs
Inside a decrepit waiting room, anticipating the Chihuahua El
Pacifico train, a lot of dust was stirred up from kicking a half deflated
basketball around in an attempt to keep warm. After one particularly solid
kick, the ball arced up high and disappeared through one of the missing windows,
just as a whistle in the distance announced the arrival of the train.
The train’s appearance always seems to be a minor miracle, as
the station in the small village of Areponapuchi is located at 8,000 feet on
the side of Mexico’s Copper Canyon.
I was on the second leg of my adventure through the Copper
Canyon, a geographic marvel that rivals the better-known Grand Canyon. The
Grand Canyon is wide and long, stretching more than 200 miles and with great
whitewater rafting. The Copper Canyon is not. There’s no rafting in the Copper
Canyon because there’s very little water flowing through it. And by itself,
it’s not nearly as large as the Grand Canyon. But combined with four adjacent
canyons, the total area is larger than the Grand Canyon, and the gorge itself
far deeper.
Only recently discovered by tourists, the Copper Canyon still
lacks the massive resort-like hotels, tour busses and helicopter noise you find
at the Grand Canyon. The question is for how long. There are roads, but because
of the dizzying short switchbacks that descend 6,000 feet to the bottom of the
canyons they can’t handle anything bigger than a van.
Riding the rails
The Chihuahua El Pacifico train nudged gently along the edge of
canyons then trough Ponderosa Pine forest, constantly gaining altitude until it
reached a plateau, where I exited into pelting rain and wet snow in the
frontier town of Creel. This is Mexico? It was the first precipitation in
months. The gray dusty layer that had settled everywhere, from plants to
treetops and from the road to adobe huts, was suddenly washed away.
The next morning, my six-hour trip down to Batopilas was cold, but
everything looked fresh and so intense. Going down is a slow process, with so
many hairpins, rough surfaces and wash-outs. But that makes it great for bird
watching. Red-tailed and black hawks were everywhere. One was flying close
alongside with me for some time during the descent, and at one point near a
waterfall the driver spotted the illustrious but elusive Elegant Trogon.
A few miles before reaching the village at the canyon floor, a
huge area was filled with deposits from silver mines that were active here
during the last century. There are many mines around Batopilas and one has a
rare, old fig tree at its entrance.
One day I hiked for about six hours with a guide into the
Arroyo Tauna. A nice variety of birds and butterflies are in the arroyos. And with
a guide, it is not too dangerous to wander inside the old mines, where the endangered
Lesser Long-Nosed bats reside.
Just outside Batopilas, I hiked on the north side of the river
along a stone aqueduct that supplies the town’s water and electricity and dates
from the 18
th
century. The path itself is much older and is part of
the original El Camino Real, established by the Spanish missionaries in the
1700s. Some original stone sections can still be seen. It is a pleasant walk
into town with several options for a dip in the river if the need arises to
cool down.
Tarahumara Indians, famous for their long-distance running in
loincloth and headband, still use the paths that crisscross the mountains.
There are supposed to be 60,000 Tarahumara living in these mountains, although
I met only a few.
One morning I went to Satevo, an easy 6 km walk north from
Batopilas. The graded dirt road eventually comes to a bend, where the
glistening, whitewashed contours of a solitary church suddenly appear amidst
the immensity of a wide, blue sky and the typical over-exposed greenery of the
Batopilas canyon. The church, built around 1765, is quite spectacular, not just
for its location but also for size and condition. Determined missionaries built
this church with its three-tiered bell tower from local ochre stone.
Earlier on my trip I spent time at another great hiking and
rock-climbing area around Cerocahui. I got off the train and a van from the
remote Paraiso de Oso Lodge picked me up. The lodge, a.k.a. Bear Lodge, is a cool
place at 5,400 feet with rustic accommodations at the foot of a fantastic
rock-wall.
That afternoon I had a short hike to a large Indian cave. In
1920, 50 terminally ill Indians died here and remains of their bones are still
lying around.
For serious hikers there is a way down to the small town of
Ulrique, at the bottom of the canyon, where temperatures easily sore into the
mid-30s. I went for a tour from the lodge to a spectacular lookout at the rim
of the Ulrique canyon. The lodge arranged a catered delicious lunch of zucchini
sopa, stuffed jalapeno peppers and orange-cake for desert, which was enjoyed with
breathtaking views over the grandiose canyon.
Catch the train
The train through the Copper Canyon region runs east-west, from
Chihuahua to the Pacific. I started at the west end, which is actually at Los
Mochis, near the Sea of Cortez. Once a day, two comfortable trains depart from
either end. Since they run on a single track, at one point the eastbound train
has to wait on a siding for the westbound train to pass. This happens in the
most bizarre little town of Divisadero. Crazy things happen here. It’s an orgy
for the senses that should have lasted longer. At one-man food-stalls the most
exotic ingredients are prepared on fires in old oil drums. A short walk down
from the station there is one of the best lookouts of the Copper, Tararecua and
Ulrique canyons.
It is hard to ignore the colourful women with their arms full
of woven baskets that greet the trains. Strangely enough, their prices are fixed;
it saves bartering and makes them smile when you buy something.
And trains seemed to be the way to go even if you had your own
vehicle. On a track siding at Divisadero was a long line of flatbed cars with
gigantic motor homes tied down on them. Since the area is impossible for this
sort of vehicle, people travel in their motor home on the train. They have
organized dinners and showers at certain hotels along the way.
Back at the Bear Lodge, the sun disappeared and temperatures
dropped quickly. In my room, I started the wood-stove, tended to my blisters,
and prepared for my return trip.
Copper Canyon and its remote villages is no doubt, a fascinating, natural wonder for the fit and active adventurer.
