South Of The Border And More: 2/10/15 - 2/11/15 The Copper Canyon

There is something about a train ride .....

Putting El Fuerte on hold, we hopped a train. As we settled in for a six hour ride, we had no idea of the excitement that awaited us. Through mountains, tunnels and switchbacks, the train sped into Chihuahua toward the Copper Canyon, accessible only by rail or dirt road.

Lax Mexican safety restrictions allowed us to stand between cars, stick our heads out into the rush of air streaming by and witness the ever changing landscape up close and personal. As the train squirmed around bends in the track, holes in mountains appeared and speedily ate car after car until we were in the complete darkness of the tunnel. Laughing at the euphoria we felt, we clung to iron hand holds and each other as the train rocked us from side to side.

Back in our seats we were sobered by a sight that is becoming more familiar. Government police (Federales), marched through the cars periodically, dressed in black or camouflage, sporting machine guns slung over their shoulders. Organized in the 90's to combat the drug lords, they seem cold and powerful. But then, one has to realize that 10 years ago, we would be far less safe making this trip.

Only several stops on this lengthy trip saw passengers change. We stayed to where we disembarked for our hotel, The Divisadero. Greeted by a pathway lined with Tarahumara Indians selling their handmade baskets and blankets, we once again were plunged into a different world. At the end of the path, the Copper Canyon yawned before us, it's colors competing with those of the brightly dresses Indians. Our hotel sat on its lip.

An afternoon hike up into the mountains painted a true picture of the Tarahumara. Ancient inhabitants of the canyon, they still live in the caves naturally carved into its walls. As we climbed, smoke curled from the mouths of their homes and families cooked their dinners over open fires. A sweet little girl stole my heart as she followed us up the hill. The women sat silently and wove small baskets and jewelry out of pine needles which they sold for a few pesos. As I stood on a cliff overlooking the canyon, the purity of the lives of these people and the clarity of the air was overwhelming.

As the temperature plummeted to the thirties, we retired to the bar and fireplace, dinner and then to our perches over the canyon for a night of breathing the purest air I have ever known.

Sunrise on our balcony was mesmerizing until Jules noticed a dog sleeping two patios away. As he woke, we saw that he obviously had been on the bad end of a dog fight recently. Missing an eye and wounded other places, he looked like he was about to die. I quickly went into my room as he limped toward us. Jules fed him a taco. But, not to worry, we saw him begging with the other dogs up by the train tracks when we left.

On a morning tram ride over the canyon we witnessed a brave soul flying through the air on what is touted to be the "World's Longest Zipline". Little did we know that it was own stalwart guide, Chicon! My stomach dropped as we soared out over the depths of the rock formations and looked down on other canyon dwellers thousands of feet below. Back at the restaurant, I stood on a glass floor over the canyon and felt like I was walking on air.

At the train station we waited patiently with other tourists and Tarahumara. We feasted on delicious relleños made over open drum fires by the Indians. Some were weaving baskets and jewelry or selling oranges, anticipating the next unloading of the train. An impromptu song fest broke out when a guitar appeared.

Back on the train we settled in for another long ride. Experiencing the dining car was a real treat and we once again stuck our heads into the wind like dogs. We miss Rascal! Once again in El Fuerte, we were greeted by a gecko and Zorro ( I think Jules was a little jealous of the latter).

Tomorrow we experience another form of Mexican travel - the ferry. We will be crossing over the Sea of Cortez, also known as the Gulf of California, to the Baja. Tonight we sleep in our safe little hotel fortress surrounded by palm trees and bougainvillea.

Internalizing the experiences of the last two days will take weeks. To be in a place so unconnected to the real world is humbling. There is so much we will never know or see and I feel honored to have been given this brief glimpse into one small microcosm of our teeming planet.