A Trip to Copper Canyon, Mexico

October 4, 2007

Off bright and early in the Tutumobile for Thousand Oaks to hook up with our old neighbors from Spain, good friends and traveling companions, Tom and Mary Ellen. They'd been to Spain, South Africa, Tanzania and Hawaii since we last saw them, so we are looking forward to catching up over a few glasses of vino tinto before heading for Mexico with them.

October 5, 2007

An early Friday start puts us in the thick of the Simi Valley Freeway commute traffic heading east at 80 mph in the H.O.V. Lane. Finally out of L.A.'s traffic tentacles, we do a brief sojourn through Palm Springs on the Sonny Bono Freeway and then featureless speeding through the CA & AZ desert to drop our car at old friends' house in Phoenix and consolidate in one for the journey south, spending the night in Casa Grande after a long day of driving.

October 6, 2007

We're off early and cross the border at Nogales and gas up. We are immediately confronted with the Spanish bureaucratic legacy in getting our Mexican auto insurance and “immigration permits” at US$106 and US$32 each, respectively for our two week visit. Where are those “immigration advocates”? Traffic is noisy, smelly, and chaotic as we finally hit Mexico Hwy 15 and the open road only to be confronted 30 min. later with a huge “car permit” station which no one mentioned was necessary in Nogales. (When you fly in or go to Baja California you won't need any of these). This is really a joke with varying numbers of copies at different windows inconveniently located some distance apart with passports, license, insurance, car registration and VISA card originals and copies being sought and passed back and forth and another US$30 paid. Much confusion could have been avoided with a simple sign in English as almost all seeking permits are American.

Back on #15 after another hour devoted to the Mexican bureaucracy we encounter our first toll booth. (It cost us US$45 back and forth to El Fuerte). The troops want a San Carlos sundown and a beach stay as I spell Tom at the wheel and hit 80-90 mph in our bid to make it just in time. I volunteer to get us a room while the rest of the group watch the sun set across the road with Margaritas at Charley's. After a leisurely dinner we turn in to our cricket infested, cell-like double room in an RV campground. As I shut my eyes, Marianne is seated in the bathroom under the whirling fan keeping an eye on our roommates. Hereafter, I'm relieved of the room renting task.

October 7, 2007

Up at 6 with Mary Ellen piloting us through the vacant Sunday morning calles of Guaymas and back on M15 where we eventually come upon the provincial border between Sonora and Sinaloa where dozens of big rigs in a northbound queue are waiting out the military inspection with at least 100 militares walking around, all armed and ready! And we thought we had it bad, as they spend hour after hour just waiting in the heat.

October 8, 2007

Up at 4.00 AM with “Montezuma's Revenge”!. Hetch Hetchy water has stolen my resistent travel tummy. (Thoughts of friend, Bill, pushing the green slime aside and drinking the local water came to mind). After much “loo time”, I reluctantly stagger along with the ladies and Chal on a tour of the historic sights. Chal has an encyclopedic knowledge of the place and all the answers while Mary Ellen has all the questions. We learn a lot, some that we never would have imagined! Staggering through the tour, I come within 1” of snapping my leg like a pretzel in an open grate at the town hall. After Marianne replaced it, an ayuntamientero (town hall guy) says that it's not dangerous because everyone knows about it and not a lawyer in sight. Sundown finds us on the river with Felipe, another brother, for bird and petroglyph viewing.

October 9, 2007

Leaving the car at the hotel, we're off for El Chepe Economico (2^nd Class Train) for the Copper Canyon at 10:00 AM. However, the 9:00 AM 1^st class train doesn't arrive until 10:30! So, we wait amidst what seems like hundreds of 1^st class bound tour groups without fear of identity theft wearing huge tags around their necks with names like Bunny and Howard and loud voices while the 2^nd class bound locals shrink for cover in the shade.

With the 1^st train hauling off 90% of the people, our train arrives immediately thereafter with the conductor insisting we all board the same car with the aisles and seats impossibly jammed. We break loose and find an empty car. Maybe they're going to detach it? But no. The tropical flora gives way as we climb to 6,000 ft as we snake and loop our way through dozens of tunnels and across bridges with spectacular canyon scenery below, ahead, and behind.

The Copper Canyon is actually 11 canyons, several of them deeper that the Grand Canyon. Chal said that Mario (not a brother) would meet us at the Bahuichivo station for the 1 hour ride to our remote forest cabin at Parochi. However, upon arrival there is absolutely no one around the station as the few disembarking locals clear out. Where is Mario?......

Now, alone but for a few workmen, we wait. How come no other tourists got off here? How come no taxis? How come no one has heard of Parochi? How come no Mario? Marianne and I hike up the hill to a small store seeking a solution. Pleading no knowledge of Parochi, the guy says we should find Mario's brother “Wicho”. However, no one is “Wicho” until a guy finally shows up in a SUV from San Isidro for “Sr. Boosh”. It appears Parochi has two names with Parochi being the Tarahumara and San Isidro the Mexican.

We are happy to endure a bone jarring ride to the “Ejido” (collective), a forest compound with Mario-built cabins. With apologies he said that he never thought we'd be on the 2^nd train. Mario & family are half Tarahumara (or Raramuri = “running feet” in their language which they prefer to be called). In the dining room is a large picture of Scott Jurek surrounded by pictures of Raramuri runners, one who beat him in their March 2006 75-90 km Urique run. (Scott revenged his defeat in '07). Mario was impressed with Soon running down to Urique and insisted that I return with my running friends in '08. (I told him that the only thing I had in common with Scott Jurek was that we were both American!).

Meanwhile, Marianne has attracted Pancho Villa, a parrot who attaches himself to her shoulder so “everywhere Marianne goes, Pancho Villa is sure to be”.

October 10, 2007

In the truck for the 25 K ride up to 7,200 ' and down to 500' at the Urique bottom in 2 hours over the worst road I've ever seen on wheel or foot! (The area is strewn with ancient lava rock that can't be graded but eroded cavernously by the downpours over the centuries. The main difference between these canyons and those in the Southwest is that they are covered with shrub and trees rather than our familiar red colored geographic striations. We passed many Raramuri family compounds rather than villages on the way down, but the town of Urique at the bottom was anti-climatic.

Upon return, Mario invited me to join a couple of Raramuri kids on a short hike into a box canyon to a bat cave. A 20 something couple from Monterey, CA, took off after them at a brisk pace in their North Face gear (they were going to hike the canyons in the coming weeks) and I had to run to keep up in my sandals as we rapidly descended. I thought I was in over my head as we kept going down with twilight approaching. At least I had my flashlight for the cave. However, after checking out the murcielagas (bats in Spanish), I came into my own on the ascent with the kids and couple struggling to keep up as they gave me the lead. Upon return, Mario thought we had quit on the cave as he said that no one had ever done it faster. So, I did get to run with the “Tarahumara” even though they weren't fully grown!

October 11, 2007

Up and off for Cerocahui, the troops in the truck and me on foot – even a hard road to run and the Raramuri do it in tire sandals kicking a wooden ball! After a little sight seeing in Cerocahui we're back at the infamous Bahuichivo station waiting for the train to Creel, our next stop. Marianne and I find a hole-in-the-wall (literally, a 6”x12” hole where a hand reaches out with a 6 pack of ice-cold Coronas when you ask for it). The ride to Creel is spent in the bar car as there are no vacant seats. Upon arrival we are absconded by Rodrigo who will take us to Margarita #2, a clean hotel with breakfast and dinner for two included in the US$50 room price. Sold upon sighting.

October 12, 2007

Of for an early run up the hill behind our hotel where on top I hear a loudspeaker announcing a “carrera” (race). What coincidental luck! I hurry back only to find 50 cyclists on totally tricked out bikes for the Tour de Chihuahua with an international field. I ask one of the riders about the race in Spanish and he tells me he's from Canada. With the riders off for a 160 km ride, I'm off again on my run finding a good trail into the countryside. After several hours in the outstanding Raramuri museum where Marianne and I learned a lot about their culture and history (second largest Indian tribe in North America after the Navajo and still very isolated rather than running casinos). Tom and I finish the day watching the Bosox-Indian ALCS in the Best Western Hotel bar with Spanish commentary..

October 13, 2007

We sign up for a 2 hour van tour of Canyon viewing spots on the way to the train ride back to El Fuerte which is breathtaking. We are accompanied by three Finnish students studying in Mexico, a Jehova's Witness who lived in Malaga in the 70's, and a 50 something Anglicized Mexican and his teenage companion. After a quick visit to the spectacular canyon vantage point at Divisadero which is jam-packed with Tarahumara souvenir and gordita sellers. Back on the train, I rescue a fellow American from a 6 hour ride with the Jehovah's Witness who planted himself next to him by taking his seat when he got up. Meanwhile, Marianne can't stand either of the conversations and leaves for the bar car although ours is philosophical, provocative, and inspirational! Steve: “Aren't you afraid you're going to wear out your joints with all that running?” Me:”Is the fear of Alzheimer's stopping you from using your brain?” We exchange ideas and travel stories for hours as the train clackety clacks into the sunset and El Fuerte and back to Chal's “Rio Vista” for our last night's dinner and bed.

Up at 6:00 AM and off in the dark for 500+ miles of driving to Puerto Peñasco at the top of the Sea of Cortez. We're no on the road 30 min. before we encounter an overturned car burning in the dark with people standing around. This would be the first of three overturned cars and two 18-wheelers we'll see on our journey north that day! Again, we pass a hundred semis lined up at the checkpoint. Hopefully, not the same ones!. Checking into the Mayan Palace between the desert and the endless beach 25 km out of the town of Puerto Peñasco at the end of the day's driving marathon is like finding an oasis. We overwhelm the bellhops with all our bits and pieces like backpackers checking into a 5-star hotel!

Epiblog

The timeshare provided us a week of luxury with plenty of sun, 75 degree sea, pool, great sea food, satellite baseball, camaraderie, cheap dentistry and haircuts, and R&R thanks to Tom and Mary Ellen. I did get in some good desert and beach running (got invited by the bellhops to run with them in the “Virgen del Guadalupe Carrera” in December) as I do have a 50 mile run facing me just a week after our return.

Thanks to Steve and Soon's advice, we spent less that 1/3 of the tour price doing the Copper Canyon on our own rather than with a guided group.

It was great to be traveling again and Central America beckons.