Knowing that I am a candidate for adventure, Robin asked me to go to the Copper Canyon with him. "Where is that?" I asked. "It should be the eighth wonder of the world," he replied. Now, having completed eight days of hiking in this area, I wholeheartedly agree.
The Copper Canyon, or the Spanish translation, Barranco del Cobre, is one of the highest, most rugged and breathtakingly beautiful sections of the Sierra Madre Occidental in North West Mexico. At present it is the homeland for approximately 50,000 Tarahumara Indians.
Magnificently cut into the landscape is a network of five canyons. Together they make up the largest canyon system in North America, and in parts, they reach a depth of 1,800 metres, even deeper than the Grand Canyon in Arizona.
Our journey began with a most spectacular train ride, known as the Chihuahua Al Pacifico Rail Journey. We boarded the train in Los Mochis at 6:00 a.m. In the darkness of the early morning, we had no idea of the scenery and the remarkable feats of engineering that we were about to witness. This train would take us on a winding course up and down valley walls, switching back through canyons, across dozens of rickety bridges high above the valleys below and through more than 100 tunnels miraculously blasted out of canyon walls. Thanks to a modest donation to the train conductor, we were able to take advantage of the best observation point of all, the front of the engine! I could not help but think of Leonardo Dicaprio in the Titanic reeling with excitement "I am King of the World!" By the time we reached our port of call, Creel, we had taken dozens of pictures, felt the warm canyon air rush through our veins, and had truly been bestowed with a sense of remarkable beauty. And this was just the beginning!
The following morning we were woken by the sounds of roosters crowing at 4:00 a.m. and rain pelting on the wooden roof. The damp darkness of the early morning could not deter our enthusiasm about hiking through these canyons for the next five days. Shortly thereafter, we were met by a packhorse and a burrow - who kindly carried our backpacks - and our guide, Elisario a tiny young Mexican man who wears sandals made of old rubber tires tied together with strings of leather, has tremendous speed and speaks no English. At times, Robin and I, wearing our high-tech hiking boots, had a difficult time keeping up with Elisario. About an hour into our hike we met up with a woman with a child bundled in an old tablecloth on her back and a six year old girl at her side. This was Elisario’s family. They were all returning to their village, which just happened to be on our way.
The trail wound its way through all different kinds of terrain – navigating rocks back and forth across a river, walking on parts that resembled cobblestone streets and rocky parts that seemed to have been through a shredder. We walked through muddy paths that belong in a rainforest, and dry paths that belong in the desert. We climbed higher and higher towards the clouds and then descend, all the time noticing the breathtaking scenery that engulfed us. We had to watch our step however, because a step too far one way could mean a nasty fall down the canyon or a step too far another way could land you in the heaps of manure that line the trails.
Cactus, some ten feet high, were all around us, green and solid and spurting with tentacles reaching to the sky. Wayward cattle would rear their heads from their feast of shrubbery and watch us pass, and the odd native would appear, yelling commands in a low drone to keep their burrows moving. Unusual landmarks, such as piles of rocks or sticks sat on the side of the narrow trails every few miles. Elisario would throw a rock or stick onto each pile as we passed. Using our best Spanish, we tried to ask if these were shrines or memorials of some sort, but best we could understand is that they are offerings to your God for good luck on your journey. Naturally, Robin and I threw rocks and sticks on every pile from this point forward.
Finally we reached our destination for the first day, Naranho, a village so small it is not even on the map. Elisario’s family was kind enough, and for a small fee, to put us up in a tent out behind their house. Their house, is very rustic by my standards, but a wonderful place to wind up at the end of the day.
We were somewhat startled when we were waken by the sound of roosters crowing at 4:00 a.m. It was still very dark and we wondered if roosters really can tell time. But it gave us a head start for our day’s adventure. Our hosts treated us to a robust cup of Mexican coffee and then we were on our way. We incorrectly assumed that hiking today couldn’t be any worse than yesterday. We navigated our way through ankle twisting trails that seemed to be more like mogul ski hills, we traversed inclines that had us panting for more oxygen and prayed as we descended cliffs where we had to hang on to cactuses and whatever shrubs we could find to prevent ourselves from falling. On the plus side, the views became even more spectacular with every turn and on occasion, from out of nowhere, a cow or two would rear their beastly heads. How did they get here?
Elisario, mule, packhorse and weary Canadian tourists hiked into our next town, Urique, by mid-afternoon. Our accommodation for the night was a glorified prison cell - or maybe it wasn’t glorified! A 6' x 8' room with concrete walls and floors, one bed with a dip in the centre as large as some of the canyons we have hiked and a toilet with no seat at the end of the room. For entertainment, we were provided with a cockroach show. Lucky for us there was no electricity so once it got dark we did not get to see their command performance. We were provided with one oil lamp, but we only had one match to light it. Normally this would not be an issue, except that our lamp did not illuminate for more than five minutes at a time. Robin suggested going for a cold cerveza - perhaps if we have a few cerveza’s, we won’t notice where we are sleeping tonight.
Urique was as far as Elisario was going. We met up with our new guide, Jose, the next morning who would take us on the rest of our journey. At first we were very excited because Jose brought with him two mules and a horse. We thought the horse was a great idea in case of emergency, but it was not too long before we realized that Jose was the emergency. Jose is about 5'10" and weighs in the neighbourhood of 220 lbs. It never occurred to us that he might not be fit enough to manage the trails - we just wanted a guide who knew the right way to go. We should guessed something was up when he broke a sweat just loading up the mules with our gear. For the next three days, Robin and I hiked and Jose had his comfy seat on the back of a horse.
The only way to describe the hiking today is "UP". We quickly realized that we should hike in front of Jose and trusty horse. This way we could pace ourselves much better and give ourselves many more rest stops over the next 7 or 8 hours, the length of time we were told we would be hiking today. The day grew hotter and hotter as we climbed higher and higher and our water supply was dwindling. It was close to noon and we had only had a few snacks and no real break from the time we set off this morning. Fortunately, just up ahead, which means in the next canyon, we came upon a small stream. We were able to fill up with water and soak our feet for a few minutes, but before we knew it, Jose was telling us in his native tongue that we had to get moving if we were going to get there by dark. Jose said we would stop for lunch in just a few minutes at a nice spot he knew just up ahead. A few minutes, became many minutes, which became an hour, and then two. Each time we asked, Jose would say "just up ahead." Finally, at 2:30 p.m. I had enough. My legs would not go any further, we needed food and the heat was overwhelming. So I just stopped. I called to our guide to tell him we were stopping for 30 minutes, and if he wanted to continue, just to go ahead. I figured he would not go too much further because we had not paid him yet! It turns out I was right because he stopped just a few minutes a head of us.
Robin, in his delirium, came up with a little pet name for our guide; Jose, the "totally_insensitive_fat_bastard_on_a_horse" (all one word, sworn under your breath!). It seems that when you ride a horse through these canyons versus hiking them, you do not realize that you need frequent breaks.
We felt fairly rejuvenated, so we gathered our things and ventured forth again. All of a sudden, on a narrow path, Robin jumps back and nearly crashes into me. "What are you doing? If you fall back and I fall back then I fall 5000 feet down hill!! His face was white as he stammered out the words "there’s a huge *@*#* rattlesnake!" Being the strong independent one, I responded by screaming. Robin puts his hand over my mouth and tells me just to stand still. In the meantime, our "Totally Insensitive..." guide comes trotting up behind us. Que Passa? I point towards the snake and use my best sign language to describe what was waiting for us. He says "denatta" and trots right by. The snake was actually more afraid of the horse and slithered further up the hill and off the trail.
We are calmly making our way again, this time I am leading the pack. I see a big black blob and jump three feet backwards. It’s a good thing we keep jumping backwards rather than sideways into the canyons. I did not scream this time, only held my breath and pointed. Robin says "it’s just a tarantula." There is no such thing as "just" I reply. We came across a whole plantation of creepy crawlies, praying mantises, crickets the size of mice, but very colourful and these biting little midges, like blackflies. Twelve hours later, and absolutely exhausted, we arrived at our casa for the evening - staying on the property of a Tarahumara farmer. We were pointed in the direction of a small barn, and that seemed perfect for us, but we were actually given the less deluxe accommodation of the ground outside the barn. The deluxe accommodation was reserved for the goats.
We ate tins of refried beans and salsa on tortillas, and talked about our day and our "totally insensitive..." guide. I was trying to convince myself that just because we saw spiders and snakes today, it will still be okay to sleep on the ground. We were asleep by 8:00 p.m. under a spectacular blanket of stars. I did not sleep well at all. I kept waking up and thinking that spiders and snakes were slithering around my head and I was paranoid that they would slither down into my sleeping bag. The imagination is a powerful thing!
Finally, it was morning. It was still dark since it was only 4:00 a.m. but the roosters woke up, therefore we wake up. As we were packing up, the day began to approach. The sun was slowly creeping up over the canyons offering a kaleidoscope of colours. Midnight blue quickly melted into purples which ran into pinks which mellowed into oranges and yellow. Before long the sun was a big ball of fire high in the sky. This is without a doubt the best view I have ever had from my bedroom.
Our hike began the same as it ended yesterday - on an uphill! We looked up and saw the peak of our canyon, only to discover that when we reached the peak, there was another one even higher that was blinded from our view. And when we reached that peak, we discovered there was another peak even higher. We were definitely in amongst the clouds and wondering how much higher can we go. Our goal was to reach the goats, because no matter how high we climbed, there was always a goat bleating from even higher! Just when we thought we had finally reached our last peak, we hit a roadblock. Our trail was washed out by a rock slide and we were not able to pass. So we had to switchback to the other side of the peak and continue our ascent from there. Finally, no more false peaks - we had climbed to the highest point in these hills and there was nothing higher than us but some clouds - not even a goat! What a feeling of absolute elation. We celebrated as though we had reached the peak of Mount Everest. We toasted each other with water bottles, feasted on granola snacks, and ingested panoramic views for miles around us.
Jose was even moved at our excitement. He has been much more accommodating today. He is stopping for breaks, and didn’t put up a fuss when we told him we wanted to sit for our lunch on the peak. He even went so far as to offer us some of his food and made great efforts to try and communicate with us. Perhaps he is not totally insensitive after all.
Our views were slightly altered now as we were heading down, down, down. The trails were covered with rocks and boulders and we often lost our footing, but we just kept chipping away at the canyon.
Eventually we could see about half a dozen roof tops - this was the village of Cerra Colorado - our casa for this evening. Just to show you how distance can be deceiving, we figured we were about an hour away from the village, but it took us another four hours to finally get there. My feet were now burning from the constant and, at time treacherous, downhill and my knees were begging for mercy. Eventually we strolled into town. Jose told us about a restaurant where we could get a cold drink and a real meal. In actual fact, it was his aunt, who prepared tortilla shells and refried beans and gave us each a can of coke, for a hefty price too! On the bright side, at least we didn’t have to cook!
Jose had told us we would have a nice casa to stay in for tonight and now we were anxious to get settled. We asked him to take us to our lovely casa and he pointed his finger across the dirt road to a small shack used for storing empty coke bottles and keeping dogs caged in. I looked, but there was no way this was going to be our resting place, so I asked again, thinking maybe he didn’t understand us. He pointed his finger across the dirt road and then began walking. We followed and sure enough he lead us the shack. It was surrounded by chicken wire so the dogs couldn’t get out and so no one would steel the empty coke bottles. Jose unlocked a tiny swing door and showed us the ground. I did not think our sleeping arrangements could have been any worse than last night, but we were so wrong. The ground was filthy - even the dirt was dirty, bugs scurrying about and dogs pacing back and forth checking out the stupid tourists. Jose left us a ground sheet and then headed over to his accommodation for the night - a room in his aunt’s house.
Sleep tonight was virtually impossible - even though our bodies were aching for it. One dog with a respiratory disease, who we affectionately named Wheezy, insisted on sleeping at our feet. He hacked and snored and struggled for breath all night long. Then there were gun shots, which triggered a domino effect of animals all yelping - dogs started barking, which turned into dogs fighting, which lead the donkeys to start eeeyoring, which lead to local people shouting out their windows for everyone to keep quiet. I wonder if this is what hell is like?
Our only goal now was to get to the next town as soon as we could. We even skipped breakfast just so we could get moving quicker. But, Jose decides he does not want to take us any further. He has arranged for another guide to take us the final leg of our journey. We paid him his fee, begrudgingly, and went to meet our new guide at the end of the road. The first thing our new guide did was offer us fresh limes from his lime tree. I like him already, although we never knew his name.
We criss-crossed the Urique River several times. It was great fun trying to jump from rock to rock without falling in the river. The horse and mules just barrelled right on through. When we reached the other side of the river for the last time, our new guide offered us his horse to ride. I didn’t even have to think about it - my feet were sore and I hadn’t slept in two nights and I was becoming somewhat delirious. The remainder of our hike was a flat, smooth, slightly paved road that wound us through the country and straight into the town of Batapilas. We bid our guide a farewell, thanked him for his limes and his hospitality and bolted for our hotel. We had arranged a room in a lovely hotel as our reward for completing the trip. The hotel was a paradise on earth, with showers with hot water, and a lovely shaded courtyard with a softly gurgling fountain and big cushioned cottage chairs just perfect for sipping on cold beers.
"Robin," I asked "After all we have been through, would you do this trip again?"
"In a heartbeat!"
