We were to
gather data on the Kokernot and Faver ranches and any material from living
persons who might have recollections of the Goodnight - Loving and Chisholm
cattle-drive trails of the period 1870 - 1905. Also of interest were any
tales, lore, or artifacts concerning Texans who supported one side or another of
the various, ever changing sides of the Mexican Revolution of
1910.
While
milling around on the Rio Grande between Fort Leaton, Lajitas, and Presidio we
were advised that from this Thursday through next Wednesday, our orders were in
flux. There was a meeting to determine what our new mission would be. Stay
close to a telephone, but no later than Tuesday we'll give you your new
instructions. It was like Heaven and Hell at the same time. We were being
overpaid and over-accommodated for doing a Summer job that was very close to
being on vacation. Our research was being catalogued and processed for use in
the massive Institute of Texian Cultures museum located on the HemisFair World
Fair compound in downtown San Antonio...openning in April of
1968.
But
here we were in Presidio, full of Republic of Texas per diem money, our hotel
(?) paid for the week, and nothing to do except comb through the old
instructions, even if it all had to be flushed later. The owner of the "New
Phillips Hotel", an interesting facility next to the downtown area of Presidio,
suggested that we could use our time to take the Mexican train from Ojinaga,
Chihuahua across the Rio Grande and go to Chihuahua, and then catch a fancy
little train to a place called the Barranca del Cobre. "How long does it
take?" we wondered aloud. And our host figured he had seen people do it,
"....there and back, over a couple of nights...".
The next
morning found us taking a "taxi" of sorts over to Ojinaga, which was a
respectable looking dump, actually quite a bit more substantial than Presidio,
and to the Chihuahua al Pacifico train station. Our train was about 20 cars
long, with two Pullman cars, two first class special cars, a diner, and six
second class cars, a baggage/express car and a couple of boxcars full of some
kind or another of freight behind the locomotives. Because we were at the end
of the time zone, the morning was still darkish. We bought our tickets for the
first class special car, and boarded. The train left about 15 minutes later,
just as the sun was breaking over the eastern
horizon.
Our car
was pleasant, about half-full of families travelling on vacation and a few
business people and ranchers. It was clean and airy, with ventilation and
air-conditioning that worked. So we were happy. The rest rooms were even
clean. "When do we arrive in Chihuahua City?" ....we asked the Auditor
(conductor). "Probably in a little while...." he responds. That was an
interesting answer, but Wild Bill and I knew that clocks in Mexico were
engineered to run sideways, so it did not really matter. During the entirety
of the journey, our train rumbled, squeaked, clanged, hooted, and
clunkity-clickity-clacked between fifteen and fifty miles per hour. It stopped
with some frequency at isolated, unlikely places. People would board and
de-board. The train was obviously an institution for these people who lived in
the absolute middle of nowhere. The scenery changed from torturous mountains
to desert-like plains, and then back to low mountains, and the rock-scapes. It
was, oddly, pretty much the stereotypical image of Chihuahua, and because of the
extent, most impressive.
We
reviewed the card the Auditor gave us with the times and stations...he knew the
Gringos liked to have predictability and punctuality...."Sometimes this works",
he smiled as he passed us the card. "The diner is open, first we
feed the Gringos."
"Oh,
no,no! " we protested, "We don't want to go ahead of the families and their
children."
"No,
no, Gringos, you have to go and eat first. If you survive, then the other
people will go eat." He said with a very straight face. (this is all in
Spanish)
Wild
Bill says, "Did he say what I think he said?"
We
laughed heartily, and then rambled up ahead, boots and hats, looking every bit
the image of what the children thought Texas cowboys would look like. The
people seemed glad that we caught the joke and could take some ribbing....and
the ice was broken for the rest of the trip. Wild Bill was surprised that the
menu of the hour was breakfast, but El Gringo Viejo told him that since Mexico
was based on Manana Savings Time everyone seemed to eat a little later
than "normal". "Does this mean I can't have beer?" seemed to be his concern.
So, after flapjacks, bacon , coffee, scrambled eggs and a couple of Carta
Blancas, Bill was happy.
Our clicking and clacking
continued, and we fell steadily behind schedule. We slept for a bit, woke up,
and noticed that we were almost on schedule. "Can we brush our teeth with the
water in the dispenser?" "No, because the relief engine is a steam locomotive
and we have to maintain a reserve just in case our engine breaks down." "ha,
ha , ha...." again another joke. We brushed our teeth after eating a far
better than average club-sandwich each. Once again Wild Bill washed everything
down with as couple of Carta Blancas. In those years, El Gringo Viejo scarcely
if ever used anything with alcohol, save for communion, but he decided to join
Bill in drinking one of the cold brews....and then promptly fell asleep again
for and hour and a half. We were on a siding when I woke up, and another
passenger train was going past us in the other direction. It seemed amazing
that our passengers were waving at the other passengers as they went by....''
Look, there Aunt Minerva! Hello...hello!"....wave, wave, wave....repeated three
or four hundred times, all passengers
considered.
The Auditor came by, calling
out the name of the next stop....and then declaring, "...Chihuahua, one hour!
Chihuahua, one hour!" We looked at the card and it appeared as though we would
be about 10 minutes late...arriving at four in the afternoon, or thereabouts.
Nine hours to go 220 miles. Such is life on a train in mountainous country
with 40 intermediate stops. But we had just ridden through a time machine
experience, with cowboys for real, with pistols stuck in their belts, horsemen
and big sombreros, autos and pickups from the 1930s, adobe villages, all such
things....already in rapid diminishment, but still quite
common.
Once in the
train station, we asked about the train to the place called La Barranca del
Cobre....but the ticket agent says only..."You buy your tickets at 05:30. It
leaves at 06:05." and the ticket window closed. So, then we were left to our
own devices in a strange city that was, oddly enough, fairly familiar.
Cowboys, regular looking people, Indians in native attire, and then the
Mennonites (we hadn't anticipated that). The city seemed prosperous
enough, and there were smelter stacks in the near distance, with smoke
indicating some thing to do with gold, silver, and iron. There were
numerous...even the majority....of the people who were of total or near total
white racial ancestry....blue and green eyes were not comment worthy. "Hey!
Cowboys, you wait for the train to-morrow?" It was
Fulgencio the the
taxi man. "I take you to the good
place."
We were dumber than a dead
rock, so the Lord guided the issue and Fuli, (pronounced 'fool-ee, really) took
us over to the Hotel Victoria, which was a nice enough place that had an
entrance that came through what had been a stone-block, Victorian-era mansion.
It was a remnant of what had been a considerable English investment and
occupation of Chihuahua City during the later quarter 0f the 19th Century.
We opted to hang around in the bar for a while, and then finally decided to take
a room....It was the equivalent of about 6 USD for a double room. Our friend
had changed a hundred dollars for us back in Presidio...I had felt pretty spiffy
with 625 units of any currency in those days. As an aside, the 1,250.00 pesos
that he changed to us lasted until our return to Presidio, and we had 400 left
over, which we used to liquidate our hotel bill at the New Phillips Hotel.
And we still had money left over. It was a different
time.
After a pleasant
stay....boring, but pleasant....and a good night's sleep, we carried our little
bags out and we pleased to note that Fuli was there in the darkness...."Hey!
Cowboys, let's go!"
"Yeah,
we have to get our tickets," grumbled the Gringo
Viejo.
"You
Gringos! You think you are the only ones who can organise an army!'' Fuli
laughed. He flipped Wild Bill an envelope."There are your tickets. Ida y
vuelta...come and go...same day. You owe me 33
pesos."
We were
impressed, "How did you get the tickets? The guy said 05:30," protested Wild
Bill.
"I work
that cabbie station. I know all those guys. You just board the train and show
these tickets."
"Where
did you learn to speak English, Fuli?" I enquired.
"I was
born in Waxahatchie (Texas). Went to primary six grades there. My family
moved here when my grandfather died and my dad came and took over his store. My
mom is media-gringa." We pulled into the parking lot and witness the
line...perhaps 100 people long, buying tickets. "They sell for the 2nd class
trenecito, and the 1st class trenecito at the same time...too many
people....wait and everyone gets nervous when the departure comes," Fuli
informs.
True to form, we go
directly to the boarding area, and there is a strange assembly of two
self-propelled, shiny lacquered blue Fiat Autovias. Very glitzy. In front,
about 100 yards ahead, are three Fiat Autovias coloured in cream with orange-red
trim, also boarding passengers, albeit in a less organised manner. The blue
ones are the 1st class and the cream/tangerine ones are 2nd class/all
stops. Both intend to make it over the Sierra Madre Occidental to-day, and
arrive in Los Mochis, Sinaloa nearly adjacent to the Sea of Cortez sometime
before midnight. The 2nd class will depart
earlier, but then by the time the first major station ahead is reached, it will
be overtaken and then passed by the 1st class Autovia that has many fewer
stops.
We
expressed our appreciation and admiration for Fuli...El Gringo Viejo never saw
him again even in all my other comings and goings with groups or alone in
Chihuahua. He had charged us the equivalent of 4 USD for everything. In
those days.
 |
Hotel
Divisadero on the edge of the
Copper
Canyon. Picture is cerca 2006 |
We left the Chihuahua Chihuahua al Pacifico (Che - Pe,
pronounced Chei - Pei) Terminal and headed west by southwest for the next five
hours. We passed through several busy communities scores of villages. The
Blue Fiat did not stop except for the bigger towns. We went through
Cuauhtemoc, San Rafael, San Juanito, Creel, had a bit of a meal on board, sold
by children carrying buckets full of somewhat identifiable stuffing wrapped by
tortillas. It was a bit disconcerting however, when we noticed that
nobody bought anything until after they had seen us eat on or two. I had given
the little Indian girl a one peso silver coin, for which she returned five
smallish, fat, rolled tacos...called "flautas" (flutes), and a little paper cup
with some salsa verde. So that all will know how cheap money is now, she
pulled my shirt a few seconds later, and gave me my change, which was 50
centavos...The tasty little meal had set me back 4 cents USD. I motioned that
there was no need for change, but she insisted. Then she pointed shyly at my
pocket. It dawned on me that she wanted my ball point pen...official State of
Texas pen. Ask and ye shall receive.
To make a
long story a bit shorter, we arrived at a place called Divisadero. The Auditor
told us we had 30 minutes to "look at the Canyon", that the FIAT would whistle
three times and depart two minutes after that warning. Then he told us,"You
gringos will wait here after we leave. The big train will come 15
minutes later. Where do you go, finally? "
"We have
to make it back to Ojinaga."
"Then tell
the auditor that you want a dormitorio," and with that he went about his
duties.
So then Wild
Bill and the Gringo Viejo strode on down to where everyone else seemed to be
going. There was a small, rustic, but pleasant looking
lodge...apparently finished, but under the process of improvement or
expansion. There was a small restaurant, and everywhere there were Tarahumara
(Rura'muri) Indian women sitting in mounds of petticoats and palm leaves (?),
making baskets. Their daughters, dressed identically, down to the bandanna
head coverings, drawn tightly over the ears, were playing with rough Indian
dolls which, like the baskets, were all for sale.
I went to
the rail at the edge, where a substantial group was taking pictures with the new
instamatic cameras (remember?), and leaned on the wobbly, one-pole wide,
"fence". Looking down, it was shall we say, disconcerting. It was 4,000 feet
straight down. My first remembering is that I looked over to the right and
down about 1,000 and about a half mile off, and saw a convoy of Tarahumara women
and girls, perhaps 50 persons, carrying huge bundles of palm leaf up to the
patio where others were labouring. Wild Bill suggested that we ought to have
brought our State of Texas cameras, but they could not have captured the
dimensions in any regard. We had heard a series of train honkings and
whistlings....it was from a unit out of view. People began to go back.
Various honkings and whistlings continued.
 |
FIAT
Autovia, like the 1st class category.
This picture
taken in Mexico City, 2009.
Colour motif
is different from our ride in
1967, between
Chihuahua and
Divisadero |
Before long the Blue FIAT Autovia pulled away with all
its charges, and in short order another regular train with about 14 cars of
various type replaced it, but heading back towards Chihuahua. We located the
Auditor, and said we were heading back to Ojinaga. He said we could travel in
1st class on our ticket, or for 100 pesos more we could take a "bedroom". We
decided to indulge ourselves. The trip would be at least 17 hours. We had a
pleasantly uneventful trip back, sleeping from midnight until our arrival in
Ojinaga, and completely unaware that we had avoided, miraculously, all the
delays, avalanches, rail failures, and equipment problems that had plagued the
line since it had finally made the complete passage from Chihuahua to Los
Mochis...only 5 years before. After 100 years of
effort.
The
difficulties had been mentioned about the Chihuahua to Los Mochis stretch, but
only in passing. Our host at the New Phillips Hotel in Presidio, Texas
confided to us on the night of our return that he had made the same trip with
his brother and sister-in-law three months before, and had been stuck at the
Divisadero for three nights. One has to consider in these days that for 25
years after the completion of the railway, it remained the only way in and out
for traffic involved in making it from Chihuahua to the other side of the Sierra
Madre Oriental. No cars, trucks, busses....only trains....almost all on a
single track line.
NOW! ABOUT THE
RECOMMENDATIONS
The problem with the Copper Canyon is that there are
many different Copper Canyons on many different levels, figuratively and
literally. The trip can be done in such a way that it would only require two
days on the rails, and one night's stay at a terminus, either Los Mochis or Cd.
Chihuahua. This would involve stopping for a couple of fifteen minute
photo-ops at the edge of the Copper Canyon's easiest overview...and perhaps the
least impressive. Make no mistake, it is a blow your socks off
overview.
But for
all the trouble that it takes to make it to Chihuahua and/or Los Mochis, it
seems a high physical and monetary price to pay for fifteen minutes of fame.
For several years, many tour operators did the tour exactly this way, citing
that it was far too cold to stay there during the Winters (temperatures can go
well below 0 F in the area...San Juanito, Chihuahua registered -26 F back in the
1980s...and it is on the rail line further to the east). Others pointed out
that it is far too hot to go in the Summer, although almost all Texans, for
instance would find the heat anything but uncomfortable. Once one makes into
the innards of the cordilleras of the Sierra Madre Occidental, any place in the
shade is cool even during the heat of the day.
 |
A
picture of the period of our last year
of
group
operation, 1992 at the Divisadero.
Things had changed! The
Chihuahua
al
Pacifico, reassumed ownership
from
Nacionales, and has
since
been
melded into a
Mexican/
American
Corporation |
The best
time to go is probably in the Autumn. Both the going up and the coming down
from the mountains are blessed with magnificent Fall Foliage presentations,
especially in latest October and November. Nights can be nippy, but all the
facilities along the way have adequate heating. Your train, especially the
first class train, has heating and air conditioning that works dependably.
The rivers and brooks are running from the Summer rains still, and so things are
lush. It is apple harvest time in the Mennonite areas just to the west
of Chihuahua, near Cuauhtemoc and thousands and thousands of acres of fields of
wheat being machine harvested. All in all it is pleasant and temperate, and
comfortable.
Winter is problematic. Heavy
snows can be enough....15 to 50 inches....in a couple of days....to bring trains
to a stop. The newer highways, although generally well-built and drained, can
be cut off for three or four days....at times....perhaps once every other year
or so. Side touring away from the traveller's estancia can be more easily
interrupted by more common snows of 3 to 10 inches, that occur several times
every Winter.
Three or
four hundred years ago, we ran our tours in the Autumn, like October, and as
late as possible in the Winter, like latest February and early March....a
majority of our clients were winter tourists from the North who wintered in the
Lower Rio Grande Valley of Texas.
As seasons went by, we finally determined to do a
set of four double-excursions that would meet over Mazatlan, where both groups,
the one departing and the one arriving would arrive at the same time, at the
same hotel. We used the Oceano Palace and its sister the Luna Palace on the
beach at Mazatlan, and the stay was for three nights. It was summarily
pleasant. Mazatlan is a place where Howard Stern and Lawrence Welk could both
get along. However, returning to the issue, it is a pleasant waste of time,
and affords access to the very nice toll expressway between Los Mochis and
Mazatlan. The trip can take as little as four hours now, but in my day it was
generally six to eight hours, depending on the
traffic.
+El+Gringo+Viejo+(l)+waiting+for+the+westbound,+Creel,+Chihuahua001.jpg) |
El Gringo Viejo (l) and
brother,
the
Professor,
waiting on the
westbound
in
Creel,
Chihuahua. |
There are perhaps as many as three first-class or deluxe
busses departing Mazatlan for Los Mochis and points north, on a direct or
express basis per every 15 minutes. There are various....hundreds..... of
places to rent an auto throughout Mazatlan. Of course, in those days we did
the transfer on a deluxe charter touring coach from our adjunct company in
Mexico City. Los Mochis is a town that was built pretty much in the very late
1800s, by American agricultural interests. All the area to the north of
Culiacan (the capital of Sinaloa) up to and beyond Los Mochis is serious tomatoe
and truck production. It is also famous for sugar cane, but the money is in
tomatoes.
In the days of yore, we would stay either at the old
Holiday Inn, way out on the edge of the city, or at the old stand-by, the Santa
Anita, a nice enough place with a really fine dining facility. It is in the
middle of town. It is really not important about placement in Los Mochis,
because we are just going to get up and
go...very early in the
morning.
NOW! Here is where is starts to become interesting. All
that stuff about staying here in Los Mochis, or there in Los Mochis? ...perhaps
not. Perhaps a person would prefer to stay in a more interesting place,
picturesque, typical, clean, nice, and relaxing. To take such an alternative,
after leaving Mazatlan, and passing through Los Mochis's outside, we would head
by highway to the East, into the mountains and making it up to El Fuerte (The
Fortress) abot 39 miles east of Los Mochis. This is quite a nice city, and we
would recommend to go ahead a splurge by staying at the Hotel El Fuerte, in El
Fuerte. It is summarily pleasant. We recommend two nights in El Fuerte, to
catch ones breath and to see the little city up close. It would be good to
have your tickets, so part of the day could be spent in buying the necessary
number of 1st class tickets, for your departure tomorrow. The train
will arrive about an hour after departure from Los Mochis...and that would mean
around 07:00 hours at the station in El
Fuerte.
From El
Fuerte, the rail ride begins to become really interesting. From there on, the
engineering, maintenance, and operation of the engines are a marvel, approaching
the level of disbelief at times, and then sometime crossing the frontier between
real and imaginary.
 |
El Gringo Viejo, making sure that the clients will
have a nice supper. This picture was taken by the
'Hotel owner, because he said he had never had a tour
operator be so helpful to his clients and the Hotel at the
same time. Mom would have been proud.
Creel, Chihuahua, 30 October 1986 |
It
is hard enough to make any kind of train move, but this one will have to
increase its elevation by 8,000 feet in about four hours, and within 120
miles. It will do the first 40 miles in less than an hour and a half....that
is the part about going from Los Mochis to El Fuerte. The next 80 miles or so
will take every bit of three hours. All the tales about 80 some odd tunnels
and 37 bridges are true, but they almost become incidental. It is rather much
like saying, "It's a lot easier to use a toothbrush if you want to brush your
teeth". It is compelling, however, to see that it was done, and that the
railway people manage to maintain it as well as they do. Obviously, 90% of the
bridges and tunnels are found in the middle 33.3% of the trajectory. There is
even a place where your train will manage, in spite of its short length, to
cross over itself. There is another place place where the train will enter a
tunnel and come out going in the opposite direction. There is a place near
that where a passenger will see three tiers of track, all of which pertains to
his trip, to-day. With all that is going on, one must remember that there is a
bar, and that the staff is also preparing meals in a very adequate, almost
elegant diner. And then, one has to be prepared to jump off the train should he
wish to comply with his planned itinerary and/or take advantage of his pre-paid
reservations. One choice would be to travel as far as from El Fuerte to
Bahuichivo, deplane and take the bus or whatever to the little community of
Cerocahui, about 15 miles to the south of the railway. This community is a
ranching and mining community.
 |
Raramui (Tarahumara)
in 1892 |
The
rustics, mainly hillbilly whites and/or mestizo type cowboys, come up to the
little hotel where you will stay "in town" and present little balls of a very
heavy metal. One of the little balls might be 1/2 inch in diameter and he
might want 500 pesos for it. My mother fell for this ruse on her first trip.
She asked me 312 times if she should buy one or more of the little balls.
Finally, El Gringo Viejo told her to go ahead and risk it, because he would beat
the guy up on the next trip in if they turned out to be compressed
marshmallows. She was a true trader/scavenger and a court qualified authority
in matters of value of collectibles, antiques, and such things. She had a great
deal of experience in pricing Estate Sales for people, and for many years she
ran the "exclusive" charity and foundation store for a significant and
historical Episcopal Church in the center of Texas. When her jeweller and
"metals man" did the test on the little metal balls, he called her and said,"
Mrs. Viejo, those little balls of metal, you paid 24 dollars for them, no?"
She answered in the positive. "Well they have some sand, but the metal is come
out to 22 karat gold even with the silicate, copper, and silver in it. It's
about 288 dollars in scrap. Do you want to jeweller them, leave them like they
are, or melt them into something
fancy?"
Of
course that was back in the mid-1980s. The gold, silver, and copper never run
out. But whether those fellows are always there, who knows. Usually when we
were there for the two night stay, they would, almost shyly, come slouching
around like timid children. By now they might have publicity agents and a
smelter. They made the little balls of heavy metal by rolling the flecks of
gold around like a child rolling a clay ball. It would take hours of hand heat
and rolling to make a little ball of 1/8th inch. The biggest one I ever saw
was about 5/8's of an inch in diameter. Much effort, but it solves the problem
about the Devil's workshop.
El
Gringo Viejo, his better half, and his 5 year old daughter went into the Copper
Canyon during one of the early days, to make arrangements for the groups.
There was one little Rura'ruri girl about my daughter's age, her name was
Dominga, and she and my daughter interacted like long-lost buddies, at least by
the Indian standards. My daughter bought a little Indian girl doll from
her...it's around here somewhere.
 |
On
the way to Batopilas on the last days
before
the 90 mile
mountain highway was
finished and
paved |
Leaving Cerocahui
and Bahuachivo a person can travel on to Cuiteco where there are places to stay
and other places of interest to visit. As in all places, some of the
attraction is human...the Indians themselves, and some is the overwhelming
imperatives forced by the geography and geology of this area, which is larger
than New England. Cuiteco is interesting because it is right on the railway,
but oddly remains almost untouched by tourism. There are places to stay that
are pleasant, but the guest will have the impression that he is staying as a
family member...or at least that he is staying as something like an exchange
student with a nice family. Cuiteco has apples and other cold weather fruit
production. There are also access points to the Canyon's edge within a
reasonable hike from "downtown" Cuiteco (pop.
315).
It is
almost obligatory that one stay at the Hotel Divisadero, which is the place that
grew out of the little place described during the trip we made with Wild Bill
Matern in 1967. Many people of note have stayed there. Helen
Hayes...ambassadors, governors, presidents, John Wayne, and of course El Gringo
Viejo. It really does cling to the edge of the Barranca. It is a bit pricey,
but of course it is all meals included, and the stuff they serve is good.
There are two ways to attack the stay there. One is to head over to the bar at
about 8:35 am and stay there all day. Others trade in tranquillity for
hikes...some quite lengthy....some including overnight camping...or overnighting
in very humble Indian villages with basic services
only.
With the picture, above right, one can
appreciate El Gringo Viejo's impatience with a client's insistence upon having a
good time. This particular picture shows the construction of the road to
Batopilas, a remote village that at one time served as an R & R site for
Pancho Villa. The road leads from Creel, which should be an inclusion on a
person's trek through the route of the Chihuahua al Pacifico. Since the 1992
period, it has been paved, possible for the entire
distance. Creel is a good place to
spend two or three nights...there are folks who come there for the summer. In
town there are several, eight or ten now, decent places that are probably worth
the charges. The people own and operate the facilities, in my opinion, really
seem dedicated to complying with the idea of fair value, plus a little
more.
The last
time we were there, there were only five places to stay, including the one about
9 kilometres south of town. Now, one need only click onto a general search,
Creel, Chihuahua Hoteles. The first entry, or thereabouts, will have a listing
of about fifteen accommodations ranging from about 20 USD per night up to a
ritzy place with a tag of about 170 USD per night. One must make do with ones
willingness to tolerate and the level of friction his soul has with the idea of
parting with money.
When the
stay is up a fellow can get back on the train, usually arriving in
mid-afternoon, and head for Chihuahua City. Arrival will be after dark.
There are usually numerous talkative taxi drivers....you know, gabbie
cabbies...and ask to go to the very central San Francisco (half-block from the
main Plaza) or the Posada del Sol, downtown. It's a short drive. The San
Francisco is a bit gloomy but has really good moments, food, bar, etc. The
Posada is glitzier...or tries to be...but the restaurant is excellent and most
of the rooms are deluxe.
FINALLY:
If there ever were a reason to do something effectively rather than
efficiently, this is one trip where such is indicated. Think about what has
been listed above. At each stop there are things to do...or not. There are
other places that represent investments of less or more time and money quite
nearby. One notices in the write-up that there are immediate things to include
or exclude. "I don't really care about beaches and Mazatlan." or "I've alway
wanted to see that place. What magic does it have that keeps it in business
when there are so many glitzier, up-scale sea-side
destinations?"
This is a trip better suited for a single person, a
couple, or for a group of really, really close friends....a group of six
or eight persons....who have travelled together successfully. There should be
at least three or four planning sessions....all the while allowing for the
inevitable happenstantial contretemps that might occur when dealing with trains
and boats and planes and other worthwhile things. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1fjyBogKDQ. (seems to play better in full screen). There must be
complete satisfaction and willing agreement on the various choices of 2nd class,
1st class, and deluxe accommodation. For instance it should be considered to
use the 1st class train to go through the entire train route on one day from
Chihuahua to Los Mochis...fourteen hours....and rest up a couple of days at the
Santa Anita and then take the 2nd class train back in stages....El
Fuerte, Cuiteco, Cerocahui, Divisadero,
Creel.
Although
the security situation around Batopilas and areas to the west has improved
substantially since the disorders of 2010, a recent flare up, a little further
to the west yet, has been intense and quite successful for the "our side".
There are several write-ups by back-packers, elderly right-wing hippies,
curmudgeons, and dumboes who have been down to that beautiful place and reported
that normalcy has returned. These are people who sneer that no one should
visit a post office or a Virginia university campus, or a Luby's in Temple if
they think they are too important to be exempted from reality....I see their
point, actuarially they are correct...pero, para ser prudente requiere algo de
prudencia....which, of course, means "To be prudent requires something of
prudence."
El Gringo
Viejo would go down to Batopilas without a second thought. For someone going
to the Copper Canyon for the first time, however, it would be a long waste of
time, due to the length of time required for the drive there and back. That
time can be better invested in getting to know, getting to feel, getting to
enjoy the millions of brain impressions that the nearer destinations provide in
abundance.
The food
on this trip ranges from okay to excellent, with excellent selections in Los
Mochis, El Fuerte, and Chihuahua, and a bit more limited within the train
route. However, El Gringo Viejo never had a really bad meal along this route,
nor did he ever receive the merest hint of a complaint about the fare. If
folks want to throw in Mazatlan, that particular destination is nothing short of
astounding in terms of great grub...from the push-carts to the linen and crystal
places.
One of the best write-ups we have found contains
about 40 glaring inaccuracies, and it is terribly dated, since it comes from
2001. But, it does point out that anyone can do this trip and be substantially
"un-babysitted"....because it was taken, and remains being taken by
geezers....one of the participants on this trip, for instance, being 88 years of
age. In spite of the inaccuracies and dumboe information the poor people were
given, it was a fair trip for the price, and they had a good time. It seemed
that there might have been some anticipation on the part of some of the
participants that they were going to downtown Vienna, or to some really
primitive place, like Round Rock, Texas. http://www.eng.uah.edu/~audeh/malik/Copper/
One
should also be aware of the main sport of the Rura'muri men is the making and
taking internally of tesquino. This sport is much more popular than their
sport of running one hundred miles without stopping all the while kicking a
wooden ball. The running and kicking sport has no winner, apparently, no score
keeping, so perhaps it fits into the new American Public School concept of
"Goals and Objectives". The tesquino drinking involves a lot of stumbling and
mumbling, but there is no distance requirement. This more important sport is
described in this link.
importance
of tesgüino to the Tarahumara.
As is noted, this is not a traditional travel
guide. This is the voice of experience that also is the voice of recognition
of reality. Each person should stand at the bat with his own stance. This
expedition, in particular, should be done only after setting aside about 3,000
USD per person, including roundtrip airfares, and investing an absolute minimum
of 10 days, leaving by air in various settings: San Antonio, or Dallas/Ft.
Worth, or Houston Bush to Monterrey to Chihuahua. Also LAX to Mazatlan.
Phoenix to Mazatlan. AeroCalifornia from Tucson to Los Mochis or Mazatlan.
Upon returning home, one should have up to half of the money remaining,
depending upon bar bills, bail bonds, and shopping
alternatives.
For veteran travellers to Mexico, El Gringo Viejo sees no problem in taking a taxi to the
main bus Terminal in Cd. Juarez and taking any of several
different departures via Express deluxe or first class bus to Chihuahua. It
will be about 3.5 hours, and there are literally three or four or more different
departures every hour, twenty four hours per day. Transportes del Norte,
Transportes Chihuahuenses, Tres Estrellas de Oro, are all
recommendable.
 |
| Saloon
Car on Ist Class Train - Really Good and Family Friendly,
too |
For
further information, advice, and/or commentary, please email us at the linkage
provided on our home page or within our website. Thanks everyone for the time
and interest expressed by having read these
observations.
El Gringo
Viejo
 |
| Typical
Consist of a Chihuahua al Pacifico Ist Class Train
To-day |
Thanks for your time and patience. One posting....something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.
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+El+Gringo+Viejo+(l)+waiting+for+the+westbound,+Creel,+Chihuahua001.jpg)
