Copper Canyon / Barranca del Cobre

 

The principal reason to sail to Topolobambo was the town’s proximity to the railway line to the Barranca del Cobre (Copper Canyon) and its safe marina in which to leave the boat during the land excursion. We planned to do this trip together with Hazel and Paul, the crew of Susimi, in order to share some costs. We had heard that tourist activities were less patronised during the pandemic and that there would be fewer people around.

The train ride to the copper canyon is one of the “must see” attractions of Mexico. When Renate was in Mexico 20 years ago she missed out on this and so was reluctant to leave Mexico without undertaking a journey to the famous Copper Canyon.

After waiting at anchor for strong winds to subside both boats entered the little Marina in a side channel of this huge commercial harbour. Here we prepared the boats to be left unattended for the eight days we would be away. We hopped on a bus and drove to Los Mochis. This is a city with a lot of traffic, banks, stores, Botanical Garden and the head office of the railway station of the ‘Ferrocarril’.

 

There, we bought our tickets from el Fuerte to Creel. Creel is a village in the high country, on top of the canyon that has alpine vegetation. Unfortunately these days it is no longer possible for tourists to buy a ticket for the slow train the locals use, so we purchased, the more expensive tickets, for the economy class of the well known touristy El Chape express.

 

After promenading in Los Mochis and visiting the botanical garden, we stocked up with cash and food and took the next bus to El Fuerte. We had booked an hotel here, in advance, and checked in the late afternoon.

The name of this quaint wee town in English is ‘The Fort’, which comes from its early Spanish colonial history. It was a very interesting place to explore. The modern fort replica had some very old exhibits from the local indigenous people as well as Spanish artifactsfrom the 17^th century. After a walk along the river dinner was enjoyed, at very reasonable cost, at a hotel restaurant. The food was delicious, the ambience and service were superb.

 

After a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast of ‘huevos rancheros’ we took a taxi to the train station. The majority of people boarding the train at the station were travelling first class. In our carriage there was plenty of space which the four of us shared with only eight other passengers.

 

During the 7 hour train ride we had fabulous vistas and took many photo’s. Unfortunately, many of them didn’t turn out very well because of the mirroring in window glass or the movement of the train. The copper canyon (a misnomer by the Spanish, who at first thought the green lichen was copper) are a labyrinth of 7 canyons (minimum 1300m deep) with an area 4 times larger than the Grand Canyon in Arizona.

 

The train has to climb from sea-level up to a height of 2400m. This 656km long railroad is perhaps one Mexico's greatest feat of engineering. This track includes 37 bridges, 86 tunnels and took more than 60 years to build, it finally open in 1961. The economic and political reasons for its construction were difficult for us to discover.

Creel was our station to disembark from “El Chape”. Hazel had booked an Airbnb for us for 3 nights. We only had to find the place, easier said than done. Fortunately, Hazel’s good Spanish language ability in telephone communication with the landlord had us on the right track quickly. 

Of the many people touting for business as the train pulled in we met a gentleman who helped us with directions while attempting to interest us in his various tour operations. We liked his manner and therefore asked him if he knew of an operator offering horse-riding in the area. He of course replied that he could supply horses, with a guide. He gave us a pamphlet with his phone number and information on different tours he offered. We were non-committal and told him we would contact him, if we needed to.

The accommodation turned out to be clean and comfortable, had basic kitchen and two wood burning stoves. after we settled in, it being already later in the day, hunger drove us out into the town in search of a suitable establishment in which to dine. After satisfying our appetites we studied the tour operator’s pamphlet and considered our options. Renate and I wanted to do a horse ride, while Hazel and Paul preferred to explore things on their own feet. So we called the tour operator who promised to arrange horses for the two of us and that he would pick us up in the morning from our accommodation. 

 

The man was as good as his word, we were collected punctually to be taken to some rudimentary stables. The horses were good condition, were very willing and had good paces. Very much a contrast to our last mule riding expedition. We set off with our guide, a young fellow, aged 14, and his pack of four unruly dogs. En route the unruly dogs immediately set about about harrying any unfortunate livestock they sighted. Nobody seemed to be bothered about this, least of all our young guide. We tried to explain to him that in New Zealand livestock owners took a very dim view of such canine behaviour and that this would probably result in summary execution of the culprits by an irate farmer. The kid spoke a highly regionally accented Spanish that was almost unintelligible to Renate so we struggled to get this point across. 

We passed spectacular rock formations and rode through the land of the native Tarahumara people. Who live in primitive shelters and sometimes traditionally in big caves. Their homes are far out of town, in the absence roads and they mostly walk to where ever they have to go. We passed through the Valley of Mushrooms and the Valley of Frogs, so named for the shape of the their rock formations

 

Our route for the most part was on the reservation of the Tarahumara people through which our young guide lost his way and had to ask the woman pictured above for directions. Directions obtained, we rode through a small forest into the Valley of Monks. The name ‘Valley of the Monks’ was applied by the Spanish in an attempt to erase the Tarahumara name of ‘Erect Penises’. I would never have imagined the latin temperament of the Spanish to veer towards puritanism. I guess the Inqisition took a dim view of the native name.

On arrival back at the stables there was no vehicle available to return us to our lodgings. Our guide would not hear of us walking. Two horses were re-saddled and another young lad pressed into service. We then rode ‘doubled up’ through town, each with a Mexican kid behind, back to our base. After four and a half hours on horse back we were glad to be back at our briefly rented home. Both of us felt very stiff and old. We were happy to relax while waiting for Hazel and Paul to return from their tramp. They came in a couple hours later, both as tired from their exertions as we were. The house kitchen had enough utensils for simple cooking, as such, Hazel took over the meal preparation, therefore making it unnecessary to eat out for the rest of our stay in Creel.

The next day we planed a hike to the waterfall “Cascada de Basaseachi”, the country’s highest continuous waterfall. With a lack of public transport available we took a taxi which drove the four of us to the beginning of a track to the falls and picked us up 4 hours later. The locals prefer the open air transport pictured below. Something a New Zealand traffic cop would pounce upon with great relish.

The walk along the track freed up our stiff muscles, which we enjoyed. The track passed through alpine forest with some nice lookouts over the river and rocks around us. The river was low due to drought but the waterfall was still impressive. We had a good look from the top and then made the 246m descent by the stairway to the deep pool at the base of the fall.

 

 

The three hour walk was therapeutic for our stiff limbs and proved to be very pleasant exercise. A reward of an ice cream afterwards was appreciated by all.

Thus far we had spent time only at or around, the canyon rim, it was time to appreciate its rugged depth and beauty. An overnight tour was organised with Tarahumara Tours, who had organized our horse-ride previously. Originally we had planned to use the public bus down to the canyon, but the better timing with a car, for our onward travel, and the ability to make multiple stops at points of interest lookouts with our driver’s local knowledge was much more appealing.

 

 

 

 

Stopping at various lookouts, the spectacular alpine vistas were reminiscent of Switzerland. This was especially true of the challenges to road building requiring multiple zig-zags, embankments and cuts. The road was all sealed but there were often fallen rocks caused from goats pasturing higher up. At one stop the engineering challenges of the winding alpine route down into the canyon were very evident.

 

 

The village Batopilas, once a booming silver mining settlement was our canyon floor experience. One side of the river is occupied by the ruins of the castle-like Hacienda San Miguel, which we visited. From here an old pack mule track the “Ruta de Plata” begins. The loaded mules walked for 35 miles to the next station where the silver/plata was loaded onto fresh mules to carry on along the chain of mule stations all the way to Chihuahua. Of cause the silver load was protected by heavily armed mounted men. The logistics of this are staggering, large numbers of slow moving mules, horses and men had to be fed and watered in a landscape were scarcely a blade of grass grows. 

 

 

 

 Today the picture is entirely different. The area’s economy thrives on tourism and ‘green gold’ and is controlled by the Cartel. The Cartel doesn’t want any trouble. A miscreant bent on causing trouble would not find her/his self pleading their case before a court of law. Their interest lies in maintaining a peaceful and prosperous veneer of civic order beneath which they conduct their sordid business. From our hotel balcony, with a very nice view over 

 

the river, we watched a teenager with a semi-automatic weapon guarding a 4WD utility vehicle. The vehicle later drove of with two teenagers riding shotgun, armed in the same fashion, sitting on the tailgate facing forward. I would like to have photographed this but considered discretion the better part of valour.

 

 

The morning of departure from Batopilas saw us tramping to Satevo Mission Church which is 8 km further into the Copper Canyon. We inspected the Mission, climbed up to the bell tower and even walked around the roof. Built in the 18^th century, the mission was a failure because it was too distant from Batopilas for the population to attend.

 

 

 

An indication of the prosperity of Batopilas was to be found in the pride of the native people (they are insulted by the term ‘indios’) wearing traditional clothing along with expensive wrist watches and Mexican hats. Their manner conveyed their confidence, a complete contrast those we encountered riding on the reservation at Creel.
 

 

 

Back in the high country of Creel, the overland bus was taken to Divisadero/Barrancas de Cobra our next and last stop over. We where astonished when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere, with no houses or other road to be seen, to let people off or on the bus, later learning how spread out deep in the bush or canyon the Tarahumara live. 

 

This last stop brought us another highlight of the canyons. Another long tramp was undertaken to to the Barranca del Cobre Canyon. The track lead us along the canyon edge and as usual we were accompanied by one of the friendly dogs to the adventure park.

 

A Swiss company built the adventure park on the edge of the canyon with different ways to explore your way half-down to the canyon floor. We decided on the sporty version and using seven very long zip-lines, the longest is 2,5 km long.

It was terrifyingly fascinating to fly over the canyon scenery. The downward journey included walking over wobbly suspension bridges high over the valley floor to the next zip-line. The safety standard was surprisingly high.

The lower station of the cable car was reached two hours later. It was pleasing not to have to walk back up. This whole excursion was a lot of fun, though I have to admit to a considerable degree of apprehension and several nervous pee stops before commencing the first zip line.

The views were incredible and so we continued tramping along the canyon rim for a while, eventually turning back to the Hotel to avoid bush bashing in the dark. Arriving back at the hotel just before sunset we were tired but happy.

 

 

  

We had had a fabulous week that left a deep impression on us of the grandeur of the canyon. The train journey back to El Fuerte was uneventful with few people on the train, which pleased us. At one station we passed the local train that was full of people, few of whom were wearing masks. A reason to be thankful we were not allowed to travel on this train.

On arrival at El Fuerte train station we took a taxi all the way back to Topolobambo in order to save time. This also allowed for a stop at a supermarket to re-victual, purchasing heartily knowing we would not have to carry it all a long distance back to the boat. It was almost dark when we arrived the marina. The boats where fine but dusty and full of bird shit, never the less we where happy to be back in our home and looked forward to sleep in our own beds. The next day was fully occupied in cleaning the boat, doing the laundry and getting ready for the next adventure.