Barrancas o Bust

After a couple months in the planning, the short trip to the Barrancas del Cobre, Sierra Tarahumara, or El Chepe is complete... for now.

We started in Culiacan on a morning Vivaaerobus flight from Guadalajara. After a quick ten minute taxi ride from the airport to the bus station we ran in to find a bus to Los Mochis. Buses leave for Mochis every 20 minutes supposedly. I knew that Los Mochis wasn't worth a night's stay from passing through last October.

In typical fashion, the TAP bus was over two hours late (we already paid for tickets, so me storming around scolding TAP employees did little to help us). Luckily in Mochis we caught the last bus to El Fuerte.


In El Fuerte we stayed at the Hotel Posada Don Porfirio (460 pesos). An enchanting little place a block from the plaza. Otto, the owner, was extremely helpful and pointed us in the right direction for good eats and sights close by.

Early the next morning we boarded El Chepe (the train). Only the first class train was running that day, so we had no choice but to cough up 600 pesos each to get to Bahuichivo. Expensive, but worth it! We sat near the back and had nearly the whole train car to ourselves. I spent much of the ride on the back overlook shooting video and taking pictures.


In Bahuichivo the touts met us as soon as our feet hit the ground. One ride to Cerocahui for 40 pesos, another for 75 pesos, another ride to a lodge 5 km outside Cerocahui. We combined forces with three other European backpackers and took a Suburban to the Francia Valenzuela Hotel in Cerocahui, within rock throwing distance of the old church.

When in Cerocahui and hiking to the waterfall, remember to follow the arroyo! Try not to get side tracked by the roads that appear to be going in the same direction as the arroyo. We got lost and wandered our way to the top of a hill without seeing a drop of water along the way. In hindsight, it's a good bet the waterfall was just as dry!




KAYAKING POSSIBILITIES:
None of these dry creeks near Cerocahui appeared particularly runnable. I started asking around about the boating (whitewater) season and little information is out there. In Creel, you can buy INEGI topo maps, similar to 7.5" quads from USGS, although they're 100 pesos a piece (INEGI is Mexico's version of the USGS). Rocky Contos has the most information on the area available at his website (sierrarios.org) for a $35 membership. That seems to be about all there is.

Everyone I asked confirmed that the rainy season starts sometime in June and ends sometime in September. The best months probably being July and August. I also talked to people about the road conditions. The consensus seemed to be that roads remain good through the rainy season (there is an extensive system of unpaved roads in the region).

The most impressive glimpse of a multi-day, runnable river was from El Mirador. The Mirador is the classic Barrancas del Cobre shot, overlooking the mighty Urique River (which contains water even in the midst of the dry season). It has been run before (at least by one person), but remains largely unknown to the whitewater community for being in a canyon deeper than the Grand Canyon of the Colorado.

Besides the Urique R. there are numerous other rivers carving out the Sierra Tarahumara. This large uplifted volcanic plateau probably possesses the world's largest proliferation of deeply incised canyons in such a small area. From the train you start to get a feel for the scale of these canyons and the unknown that has yet to be explored...and kayaked.


Gordita shot with my new 35mm, 1.4 F-stop lens.









THE HOSPITAL IN CREEL:
Creel will be remembered for me as the place I became the most ill I've been to date from Mexican cuisine. After an exciting day of watching a reenactment of Christ being crucified all over town (we visited during Semana Santa) we relaxed at a nearby hot spring in Rekowata. We sampled some carne de res seco (dry meat). It tasted rancid and it's effects proved to be even worse.

The next morning I awoke to excruciating pain in my sides and began vomiting...violently, over and over. In the next six hours I made over 20 trips to the bathroom with stuff coming out of both ends. Caitlin decided it was time to see a doctor (she had made the wise choice of spitting the dry meat out).

The taxi driver looked like he'd seen a ghost as I stumbled aboard his Toyota pick-up. The clinic was only two blocks away, but it was all I could do to half-way button up my shirt and clamor outside the hotel room.

At the clinic a team of four nurses helped me into a medical cot and started firing away questions. Although I was nearly incoherent from severe dehydration I managed to ramble out short replies. Then came out the IV. It would have been scary in the most modern hospital on Earth; I hate needles. Add needles to med equipment from the 1940s and stains of unknown bodily fluids on the floor and you've got a scene from the Texas chainsaw massacre.

As I squirmed and sweat beaded down my face the nurse stuck a needle in my hand. It didn't take. She moved the pressure thing up to my bicep and stuck the needle in my elbow armpit. I trembled in discomfort and from chilling cold. It felt like I was out in snow with no clothes on and the vertebrae in my spine were icing up. The nurses ran all over the clinic collecting blankets for me all the while asking Caitlin how old I was (a testament to my fear of needles!)

When it was all over about an hour and half later I felt slightly better. All said and done the bill came to 238 pesos (about 18 dollars), including four boxes of medications (which I'm still on). I rested the remainder of the afternoon before escaping to Chihuahua the next day. Ay Chihuahua!!!

Here's the youtube video of some of the clips compiled together:

Barrancas del Cobre por Tren