Original Trip Description: (March 11-19, 1995) Traveling mostly by foot, as the Tarahumara Indians do, we will explore their spectacular canyon country home. The trip will begin in the bustling, historical city of Chihuahua, Mexico. Ground transportation will be arranged in Chihuahua to insure accessibility to the many spectacular, but remote, viewpoints and trailheads. Due to both the uncertain and inconvenient daily first class schedule, we've eliminated the Chihuahua al Pacifico (Copper Canyon) train as possible transportation. However, participants could conveniently schedule an extra couple of days at the trip's end for a ride from Creel to El Fuerte and then return to Chihuahua. We'll visit Basaseachic NP to see this spectacular falls during spring runoff, camp by beautiful Lake Arareco, backpack to Recohauta Hot Springs in Tararecua Canyon, dayhike to Cusarare Falls, and spend two days driving to isolated Batopilas, visiting the Incised Meanders of the Urique and Satevo Mission along the way. Later, we'll travel from Creel to Divisadero to see spectacular Copper Canyon from the rim, hike to the bottom and then spend two evenings camping near the Rio Urique before returning to the canyon rim 5000' above. Since the spring nighttime temperatures may be near or below freezing at the higher rim elevations; we plan to spend three evenings in local accommodations while we are in and around Creel. This trip is rated as moderate to strenuous (M/S). Originates @ Chihuahua, Chihuahua, Mexico.

Train at Divisidero

View from the rim

Trip Report:

After rounding everyone up, we headed for Basaseachic Falls for our first dayhike and camp. The rolling hills gave way to mountains as we climbed into the Barrancas. We stopped for lunch at a scenic overlook and met Cesar, the cheese man. He was making a run from Chihuahua to Obregon in his heavily overloaded camper-shelled pickup with approximately a ton of haphazardly packed fresh cheese. He offered Mark samples and then limped on down the road. We arrived safely at the falls overlook and most of us took the hike down to La Ventana. Dinner was a group effort with Steve and Bernadette making appetizers of roasted, stuffed chilies which they had purchased in the open market. We sang Happy Birthday to Steve in Spanish and topped off the evening with a frosting laden Mexican birthday cake that Susan has always been dying to try. It rained a few drops during the night and snowed a few flakes while we navigated the gravel road to Creel the following day. Luckily, it was the coldest weather we encountered and the only rain. We secured our rooms at Margaritas, got cleaned up, and wandered around town in the afternoon. A select few got ambitious enough to climb high for views of the town, while the rest of us shopped and enjoyed happy hour.

The next day we drove the rough 90 miles to Batopilas with frequent stops to photograph and stretch. During one of our stretches along the road, the children in a nearby school decided they wanted to come out and greet us. 20-30 kids came running across the fields to check us out. We handed candy to all of them trying to keep track of who had already gotten theirs and who was back in line for seconds. The 2-3 mile drive from Batopilas to the Mission was a time consuming ordeal. A trail only a few years ago, it has recently become a trail which can be used by high clearance vehicles if they proceed slowly. Batopilas was a highlight of our trip. We camped next to the Mission, toured the Hacienda, watched a horizontal water wheel grind silver ore, and played soccer with local kids in a church yard. Throughout the trip we heard mysterious Indian drums in the distance everywhere we stopped. We later found the Tarahumara like drums, fiddles, flutes, and who knows what other type of musical instrument. They don't specialize and create orchestras. There is a drumming season, a flute season, a fiddle season, etc. We happened to be there for drum season and flute season was coming.

We took our time returning to Creel, stopping to swim at the river crossing, and camping overnight in the high forest country. A local village was just below us and we were serenaded all evening. The next morning we had several visitors from the village when they discovered that we were camped so close. Wood-cutters were the first to notice us. They came with wheelbarrows to collect wood. One man had his 4-5 year old son who looked terribly underdressed for the morning cold. Susan gave the boy a sweater. They hurried down the hill to the village and he returned with a number of his wife's colorful sashes to sell. That morning, we also met an American anthropologist who was studying the Taras. Conversations with him both at our camp and later in Creel were helpful in understanding the local culture and the place of the Taras in modern Mexican society. Women were selling hand woven baskets at many of the overlooks and soon everyone in the group had a basket. Susan was able to find safe places to store them all until the end of the trip. The bad news was that Susan shredded a tire on the last couple of hundred yards of unpaved road. Our spare was already on the pickup because we'd found a small hole in another tire the night before. Susan stayed with the truck, while Bob took everyone to Cusarare Falls to hike and the tire to Creel to get air. With both vehicles mobile once more, our group returned that evening to Margarita's for showers.

Another highlight of this trip was the backpack into Urique Canyon. It was extremely strenuous. We had only the vaguest idea where the trail to the bottom was and even vaguer ideas about how to get out. Mexican topographic maps aren't nearly as accurate as ours. In many cases, only the Tarahumara really know where the trails go. Their trails are more paths than the constructed trails we are used to. We picked up a young black dog as a traveling companion and found the start down but rapidly lost it as many paths spurred off in every conceivable direction. A curious 11 year old boy, Louis Rey (King Louis) was always within sight, seemingly following us. In total frustration, we finally hired him as a guide to take us to the river. He set a fierce pace and we had to continuously slow him down. We finally told him we wanted to do it in 4 hours since we were heavily loaded and he got the idea. He did get us to the river and instead of paying the 20 Pesos ($3.00) we originally offered, Bob paid him 50 Pesos. He was extremely shy and seemed nervous about the new small 50 Peso bill. We finally realized he had probably never seen such a big bank note and was probably afraid he might be accepting something worthless which he would be teased about at the top. When we realized the problem, we gave him five 10 Peso notes. He knew what they were and was very happy at that point. It was five PM and he had two hours of daylight to get to the top, so off he went. Perro Negro stayed with us. Coming down the steep trail with his heavy pack, Mark came up with this quote of the day, "At first, I was afraid I might die, but then I was afraid that I wouldn't."

People were quite concerned about our predicament and there were some who felt we should rest the next day and then go out the way we came in. That didn't seem too adventurous or likely to let us see much of the canyon so the next day Bob convinced everyone that we should go 4-5 miles down stream to where another trail was supposed to come into the canyon. This was all well and good but the immediate stream crossings in waste deep water convinced most of us that this might be a very adventurous 4-5 miles. Even our black dog, who had by now adopted us, had trouble crossing the river. Carl had to rescue him several times that day. Several hours later, we met people who were taking goods cross canyon at a broken down suspension bridge and they showed us where the trail up began. They camped by us that night and most of our group purchased something from them: a drum, flute, or some beadwork. This made their loads lighter and ours heavier, something which probably further delighted and amazed them.

The trail out was another goat trail and started more than a mile from where the map said it should be. It was a rigorous 4000' plus climb but we were able to find our way out of the canyon. For a time our menagerie continued to grow when two young goats also joined our party. We enlisted some assistance from an old man in a three hut community about half way out when we had a minor misunderstanding about where we were and how we should proceed. The Indians we met on the trail were helpful with directions but extremely surprised to see us wandering about without guides. However, our arduous trek worked out fine and everyone was impressed with their accomplishments when they returned to the rim at El Divisadero. We split into two groups so Susan could get back to Creel and secure our rooms. Everyone in the Combi van stopped for drinks at the El Divisadero Hotel which has a grand view of the Urique Canyon much like the view from the North Rim Lodge at Grand Canyon. Our black dog deserted us at this point. We think he had better sleeping accommodations with one of the local children. The Tarahumara women were selling violins outside the hotel. Now we have a violin, a flute, and a drum so we're ready for any season in Tara land.

Three of our group took the Copper Canyon train to El Fuerte or Los Mochis. The rest of us returned to Chihuahua ending this spectacular trip. After dropping our Combi rental van off with the agency, we left on a burn run to Phoenix. Susan had to be back in school right after the trip. We took a chance and drove to Phoenix with no spare tire and luckily arrived with no problems.

Updated on Thursday, December 8, 2006 @ 4:30 MST © 1995-2006 by Robert R. Marley