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Diary of a Horseback Trip Day 2:
"The nights must be getting shorter..", I thought as morning sounds arrived all too early. Life in the country moves to the rhythm of the sun - up at daybreak & down shortly after sunset. I wasn't ready to wake up. Eveline later reminded me how the chickens had come pecking close to her head before she was prepared to wake up as well. Maybe there were better pickings closer to her.
It seemed like only moments ago we had shared the remains of our dinner with Paula & her kids. Now it was time for juice, coffee, and eggs followed by a flurry of cleaning dishes, packing sleeping bags, and saddling up. We were headed to Los Alisos on the next range over but to get there we had to pass through Urique in the canyon bottom. This would be our first hot day. Waving goodbye to Paula and her husband Xavier, we set out. This should be simple. Urique is just down there in front of us. It's just that it's way down there... The road to Urique and the trail to it are the same in many places. The road switches back and forth and the trail frequently takes shortcuts even steeper than the road. We paused to take in the scenery at the traditional overlook alongside the road at Cerro Gallegos. This is a common stopping point for travelers to Urique and it offers a fine view over much of the Urique Canyon. A kind of small agave plant was in bloom everywhere. Their yellow stalks mark the burst of energy that culminates in the plant's bloom and subsequent death. Back & forth and down, down, down the trail continued. The pine forest quickly gave way to mid and lowland desert vegetation. Gone were the lovely Madroña trees, replaced by brush and thorn trees. The temperature rose steadily.
Our arrival in Urique felt like a real event. Here was a chance to relieve the horses, walk around, and have lunch in the shaded patio of a restaurant. José and Virginia Quintana at the Plaza restaurant knew of our arrival and had a warm lunch waiting for us. Cold beers were also available - what a treat! And partway through lunch, a Magpie Jay flew in and joined us. Unusually used to people, we learned the owners had encountered the bird when it was very young. Keeping it around, it became used to people and the food associated with them. Occasional tidbits stolen from tables supplemented the bird's normal diet. And to José's dismay, the bird regularly stole tips left on the table by guests!
Urique is the county seat. Located in the bottom of the canyon alongside the Urique River, it is at 1770' elevation. Urique origins are in mining. Decades ago, the road here was described as an axle-breaker. Today the road is generally much better although washouts are common in the rainy season and the road can abruptly become impassable. Anyone having business with the county government must travel to Urique. Urique's plaza was torn up during our visit for new construction. We searched for mangoneadas, a local popsicle made from mango pulp (and delicious) without success. We poked into Carlos Silva's store "La Central", briefly and asked around for corn we might use as horse-fodder - no luck either. However, at another store, we did locate some carnitas (meat) for dinner that night.
After lunch, we set off downstream toward the town of Guapalaina. It was hot but there was no other way except to follow the canyon bottom. Once in Guapalaina, we took a break for a quick soda and set off again. On our way out of town, we passed by a house with a large strangler fig tree growing outside. Its serpentine roots start above ground and are unique among the other trees here. Below town, we came to our river crossing. After a water break for our stock, we easily splashed across the wide and shallow crossing. This is the low-water season and the river bottom runs with a small fraction of the volume it will carry in a couple of months. Today we cross easily - later in the summer it will become impassible.
Across the river, the trail quickly starts its upward path. Narrow switchbacks cut back and forth on steep slopes and the trail frequently crosses narrow sections that are one good rain from being washed out. Pictures here are forgotten as everyone pays close attention to their mount. Short breaks occur frequently to relieve the horses' labored breathing. In a while, the switchbacks become longer as the trail crosses a ridge and begins a brief descent into the drainage on the other side. The Urique river is already well below us. We pass a small shrine and the canyon walls begin to close in on us. Soon the trail is following a straight route up the drainage and large trees begin to appear ahead along with stone walls. We have arrived at Los Alisos - an abandoned gold mining community now partly owned by the ranch.
Los Alisos still has a few remnants of its heyday. Several crumbling ruins remain of the schoolhouse and surrounding buildings. The mine being worked actually lay in the next canyon to the south across a ridge. However, a lack of water prevented the establishment of living quarters there. Water determines everything here for without it, you cannot stay. Most places, including Los Alisos, get their water from some nearby trickle spring. Flexible plastic tubing then carries the water to where it is needed. "Nearby" in the case of Los Alisos means the water is only 1.5 kilometers away! The local people carry in 100 meter rolls of tubing to lay on the ground between their home and the water source. And without pumps of any sort, the water supply has to be uphill.
Los Alisos is like a small oasis in the Chihuahua desert. At 2800' elevation, it gets a break from the lower canyon's heat. A small orchard supplies unusually large and sweet grapefruit later in the season. Los Alisos is partly owned by the Rancho del Oso and serves as a dedicated campground for trips and general way-station for hikers and other travelers. Próspero Torres and his wife are resident caretakers and they warmly welcomed us. It's always good to renew old acquaintances. And what a treat - unlimited good water! Próspero greeted us with an outstretched cup. Thinking it to be water, Eveline took a big swig. Eyes bulging and suddenly stumbling about, she quickly returned the cup. This was her introduction to lechugilla, the locally-made moonshine fermented and distilled from the agave plant. Surprise!
No matter how much water we
drank during the day, it never seemed to be enough. Once in camp, everyone
gulped Gatorade. This works better than only water when dehydration is a possibility.
We stowed saddles and blankets and set about establishing our camp. There was a
little time left late in the day to explore before it was time to cook dinner.
Próspero showed up with a stack of fresh tortillas. We settled down as the fire
underneath the grate burned down into a bed of coals. Everyone eyed the steaks
possessively. Próspero joined us along with a small
orphan boy he is caretaking. The sizzle of the cooking meat was hypnotizing. I
turned the meats frequently since the thin cuts tend to cook through quickly.
Knowing the Mexican preference is to cook meat until it is well done, I opted to
cook since I could get mine with some color in the middle. After serving everyone, I
noticed a couple cuts quietly went back on the grill when I wasn't looking to
complete my obviously incomplete job according to local standards! Fresh meat is
very unusual in these areas and nothing was left over.
While we sat around, I recalled a time on an earlier trip in which Próspero wanted a cigarette late in the day but none were available. Giving a few pesos to one of his boys, he sent him to La Laja (below Guapalaina along the river) to buy a pack of smokes. The boy left about 5:30 pm and returned about 9 pm that night. On foot and in the dark, he seemed to think nothing of the chore - at least he did not complain. Such are the people who live here.
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