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Diary of a Horseback Trip Webmaster's notes: A trip into Copper Canyon on horseback is not a wilderness trip but rather a cultural experience. People live almost everywhere. The trails we travel are the inner canyon highways by which people move about. Distances are measured in hours and not miles or kilometers. To learn about the back country and travel these routes is to meet the people who live there and see firsthand their way of life. This trip is not about getting somewhere but the journey itself. Making a living here is difficult at best and resources are limited. But smiles beget smiles and there's always something to learn from the stranger who has welcomed you into their world. This nine-part account is written from a trip taken in May 2004 and reflects my own views. I've included as many pictures as is practical to stuff into the limited space here - countless others were set aside. Most place-names and trails are shown on the satellite map, more updates to it are pending. My notes follow... Day 1:
At breakfast there was a heightened energy in the air. The previous night while our dinner was prepared over an open fire outside, we had sipped margaritas and swilled cervezas (beers) while we relaxed and met each other, our soon-to-be traveling companions. We knew we were going to spend over a week together in the inner portions of Copper Canyon and this was not going to be a luxury cruise in the Caribbean. Our days would be spent packing, saddling, and riding - our nights just the opposite while sleeping out under the stars to boot. It was May and the inner canyon temperatures were going to be hot as the rainy season does not start until late July. The higher elevations in the mountains would still be pleasant but descents to the canyon bottoms were unavoidable. We swapped stories and anecdotes in anticipation of the coming adventure.
Although we would pass through some towns, most of our route would be in isolated regions where few outsiders are seen. There were several large ascents and descents to be made on the route - thousands of feet each way. We had a few extra days available and planned on spending them in the back country. Nine days worth - what would it be like? Last-minute questions always arise - how much sunscreen to bring, do I have enough water bottles, who else among us (if any) speaks any Spanish, and where the devil did I put the....? The clatter of the breakfast dishes being gathered up made it clear the time for idle speculation was gone. Time's wasting - a last sip of coffee and it's time to go!
Our group consisted of six riders. Eddy and Eveline had come from Davos, Switzerland just for this trip. Nicole from Zurich, Switzerland worked as a travel agent there booking adventure travel trips. She came to the ranch as a short-term volunteer to learn just what her clients would be getting into. Somehow, by the time we return, I think she will know! The remaining three were Doug Rhodes (owner of the Rancho del Oso), José (our Tarahumara wrangler), and myself. A small and efficient group, almost all were experienced riders. In addition to our individual mounts, one macho (mule) served as a pack animal.
There's no such thing as a smoothly choreographed start to a horseback trip - rather there is a long list of details that all have to get done in some order along with many important topics of which any can be the death of a good experience. It's sort of like herding cats - major meals have to be planned, camping equipment checked ahead of time, tack repaired and adjusted, water purification materials made available, snacks allocated, and a myriad more. Personalities (both people and animals) have to be matched. While the livestock was being gathered up, we packed last-minute items and looked around for the lucky (or unlucky) animal we would get to know only too well.
Mexican horses are smaller than their counterparts in the U.S. Many are descendents of the Spanish Barbs brought to Mexico by the Spanish. Chosen for their small size (easier to fit into ships from Spain) and stamina, their bloodlines remain today. Our lot included some mules as well. The mules perform better than horses when the going gets tough - they eat less and require less water, they are more sure-footed in treacherous terrain, and they have the sense to refuse to work if they are overloaded. Once you get used to their gait, there is little else different about them. And yes, a mule can be stubborn at times.
Everyone adjusted saddles and stirrups (me especially - I have long legs), packed day bags, checked for forgotten items, took a couple of photos as everyone mounted up, and suddenly we were off. With a wave to the ranch's staff and shouts of adios (goodbye), we set off down the dirt road toward town. If something had been forgotten now, tough! A short distance from the ranch, we turned left toward a small stream where a side canyon entered the valley. Our mounts were eager for a drink so we paused as they drank. We tightened cinches and mounted up again, leaving the road and houses along it behind us. Suddenly we were alone.
Almost immediately we were covered by tall trees. Their shade was a pleasant break from the sun. A small trail followed the canyon bottom and the horses obviously knew it well. The trail crossed the stream around and through large rocks. The clatter of shod feet on rock was to become a familiar one. Copper Canyon is one immense sheet of it and trails are described as rocky or rockier.
Before reaching El Cajón (a short and narrow canyon), we took a trail to the right and a steady climb started. The forest here is a mixture of deciduous trees and pines. Occasional Madroñas are seen. Having a smooth red bark, they stand in sharp contrast to the shaded green background. Alders, oaks, and pines (including Lumholtz and Apache) abound. After a while the country opened up and the trail followed the edge of a stone wall bordering a large field. Used to grow corn, the field is plowed by a pair of oxen pulling a plow made entirely of wood except for the metal face of the plow's digger. A small trickle of water flowed at the base of the wall and tadpoles were everywhere. Soon the trail became larger and we entered the community of Porochi. It was a chance to dismount, loosen cinches, rest, buy a soda or fruit juice drink at the local tienda (community store), and walk about. The kids stared at us and smiled when we smiled at them. They periodically see outsiders like us but we are still a novelty to them. The front of the church still had its entrance framed in a ring of pine boughs and the dried remains of "flowers" that were actually woven leaves of the sotól cactus. Peeled individually from the plant and woven into a circle, the white portions of the plant resembled a large flower from a distance.
Soon it was time to go again and the trail continued upward through the woods. Although the sun was strong, the temperature was pleasant. After all, we were just over 7000' high. As we progressed, we passed other ranchitos where individual Tarahumara families farmed for a subsistence living. Then ahead, the horizon began to disappear in the distance as we approached the saddle. Coming to the edge of the canyon, a huge expanse opened before us. Until now we had been in the close quarters of the woods. In front of us lay a panorama of canyons and mountains - none of it in any way close or small in scale. The road to Urique passed close by. The canyon's bottom was visible a mile beneath us. Outside a nearby gate, we waved
to the kids and the woman inside who returned our greeting. We opened the gate, gathered everyone inside,
and began unsaddling. Paula greeted us quietly from her doorway. A soft-spoken and
quiet Tarahumara, we have come come to know each other over the years. Her basket work is beautiful and
soon everyone was admiring it. We had an advantage here, since a truck from the
ranch passes by here periodically, it was possible to buy things and leave them
here at the house to be picked up later. Paula is totally honest, there was no doubt that all
purchases would delivered as promised. While we talked, Paula's kids eyed us
from around doorways and corners, running away giggling when they knew we had
spotted them. The time flew by quickly - soon we had to set the
baskets aside and prepare dinner quickly since the sun had already set. Dinner was a community
effort and by the time it was over, the stars were out in force. Brilliant and
distinct, they were a reminder of how far away we already were from any towns,
let alone any cities.
Nobody wasted any time falling asleep that chilly night.
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