Where is the railroad station?	¿Donde esta la estación de ferrocarril?
Where is the [central] bus station?	¿Donde esta la estación la [central] camionera?
Where is a restaurant?	¿Donde esta un restaurant?
Where is a doctor?	¿Donde esta un doctor?
I am feeling sick.	Estoy enfermo.
Where is the road to Batopilas?	¿Donde esta el camino a Batopilas?
Where can I find water?	¿Donde encuentra agua?

Friday, March 7 – 1980

Purpose

I undertake this trip because I want to reflect on meaning and purpose; also to become more familiar with Barranca del Cobre – Tarahumara Indian Country

Our plan is as follows:

Today ~11:00 AM: Jim Southard and I leave for Presidio

Saturday, March 8: Cross border to Ojinaga – bus to Chihuahua. Leave for the Barranca area of the Sierra Madre Occidental by night train on Chihuahua al Pacifico Railroad

Sunday, March 9: Alight – Bahuichivo. Truck to Urique

Monday, March 10: Leave Urique for Batopilas on trail. Spend 4 days arriving Batopilas on Thurday evening

Friday, March 14: Mail truck from Batophilas for Creel. Train for Chihuahua. Night in Chihuahua

Saturday, March 15: Bus: Chihuahua – Ojinaga

Sunday, March 16: Presidio – Austin

Friday, March 7

Left Austin at 1:00 PM – took the “northern” route 290/Interstate 10: Fredericksburg – Junction – Sonora – Ozona – Sheffield – Fort Stockton – Alpine – Marfa – Presidio. Camped by roadside 22 m from Presidio after a supper at Ft Stockton: homemade minestrone

Saturday

In the morning we can see that the scenery North of Presidio is pretty. Dry arid hills – cool grey sky. Breakfast at Presidio. Some minor irritation today: missed the 10:30 bus for Chihuahua, went to the wrong bus stop. At Chihuahua we found that there is no train for the Copper Canyon area [the Chihuahua-Pacific line]. The night train leaves only on Tuesday and Friday. Next train is tomorrow a.m. at 8:20. Walking around Chihuahua, I find that my Korean-made “Jungle Boots” are in no way fit for hiking. The uneven ridges against the soles of my feet, due to poor craftsmanship, have developed some tender spots. This even though, after paring my calluses, I’d found them comfortable in Austin. This reinforces the need to try out shoes before a long hike. Bought some padding for my feet soles: no real help – the shoes are now too tight. Bought a pair of tennis shoes: with socks, rubber pads, they seem comfortable. Hope they will hold out. Spent the night in the Reforma hotel and supper in the Mi Café in the same building. Very good supper of Enchilada de Pollo. This was the restaurant at which we had breakfast a year ago with spring [March] of 1979; this is just off Ocampo at Victoria

This was written in our room in the Hotel Reforma, just before going to bed

Sunday

Rose ~ 5 AM, coffee brewed in room, off to station. A number of people from the U.S. in the ticket office. Unfortunately we bought tickets for the Primera Especial class which cost us $160 p apiece instead of the Primera General at half the price. Had an anxious breakfast at 8:00 AM in the “Menuderia” outside the Estación for $25 p each. Good, but the meat was hog entrails – mildly unpleasant thought. [Am writing this Monday – just stopped to sit back a moment overlooking the Barranca de Urique which we have not arrived at: overlook]. The train journey – Chihuahua-La Junta-Creel-Pitorreal-El Divisadero-La Laja-Bahuichivo – involved some uncertainty with regard to time of arrival at Bahiuchiro. We were told 3:00 PM; actually ~5:00 PM. Took photographs from the train, especially just north of Creel, getting more south and especially in the Pitorreal-El Divisadero-Porada Barrancas-Bahuichivo section. Many tunnels and many canyon overlooks. Made brief acquaintance of a “couple” from Santa Fe – they plan to do the difficult climb down from ~ Porada Barrancas. Now at Bahuichivo we were asked $3000 p for a ride to Urique. We took on the Hotel la Mission ~ 17km at CERO CAHIC for $50 p each. At Cerochic we met the lady who had served us coffee in Deciembre. Photographed her, presented her compliments from people on the previous outing and told her her coffee is the best in Mexico. We then started to hike toward Urique, hoping for a truck but not that night. Camped at a spot overlooking Cerochic – idyllic

Monday

Metaphor for living, relationship to the universe

Continued hike [hitch] to Urique. Pickup picked us halfway – to Urique cabin canyons [Cabinas de Barranca de Urique at La Mera de Arturo]. Coffee in dining room [$1850 p for three days – meals, lodging, transportation from Bahuichivo]. Now just beyond here, another truck – open – to the overlook of the Urique Canyon. This is [and agreed upon by friends], perhaps, the most beautiful part of the journey. A reason for tears, joy, and life. But this is unfair to the beauty and the life of the other parts of Barranca del Cobre and elsewhere. Here, though, driving down the tortuous, winding Camino de Barranca, we enter the top of the Urique valley: great, mighty cliffs reaching down toward the center of the earth. This is where, in December, I thought “here is home”. Now I sit, overlooking the Urique Canyon: there is the winding river, the great Urique – the source of life, the center of this universe. This afternoon Jim and I will walk and ride down into that sunlit, hazy valley. It is good that I came despite hesitation

In the evening, yesterday, I had a thought. To live here some possibilities are: driving a truck, living with a native woman, raising goats, trading, mining. Another possibility is anthropology. Money?

No truck has come by for ~hour. Should we walk – we can probably get there by nightfall

My boots are now in Los Mochis – on the train. Forgot to take them off the train. Hope the tennis shoes work. I’d meant to use the boots as back up

Yes – to my surprise we climbed down to Urique today. We first saw it from a great distance – a row of houses along the river. For an interminable period it remained tiny and then when it began to grow and Jim said, “It’s still a heck of a way down there,” it was suddenly upon us. I immediately had two cokes and a pineapple drink. We were tired, dusty, sweaty. Met Thomas who runs a private school in Urique – subsidized by the local landowners. He has built his own house, has a fine garden, speaks Spanish fluently, and once in a while serves as doctor – the last doctor, a woman of 23, died when the bus fell over the cliff while driving to Urique. We had supper at the Restaurant Urique run by Ana Ramirez, Dom. Con., Urique Chihuahua. Two photographs of the family and friends. Bathed in the Urique. Stepped on a black scorpion while sipping tea in Thomas’ kitchen

Tuesday

Enjoyment of the moment

Am sitting here at the “2nd day” camp site of the January visit. Surrounded by hills and barrancas. Each “mountain” has its own character, each seems like an old friend. There’s one – a row of sheer fissured rock, challenging, majestic; another – a massive dome solemn, dignified; ones in the distance beckoning. There is a small hill behind me – I just climbed it and came down. What an effort to move my puny weight up and down. The Rio Urique has carved a weight of earth 10¹⁴ times more. Powerful. There’s a feeling of power, too, in hiking through the canyon. I never had thought until recently that I was yet able to do it without guidance. Of course we ask the locals for help, but their descriptions are not better than my own sense. It is true, though, that this is a repeat of the Winter trip. Next time here, with more time, I will wander around finding “my own” way. The village just south of Urique is Guapaleyna

Wednesday, March 12

What tender shades of deep and light blues this morning. This is earth at her sweetest and most tender, most soft. Rose this morning in the Rio Urique valley, just next to the river to the light of a silver crescent moon and then a tinge, a rim, of silver deep blue surrounding the bowl of ridges with deepest blue above. Now at 7:45 light blue, wisps of clouds the high ridges lit by the sun – it is still cool light breezes pass by and the Urique flows on. We will do some climbing today

Thursday, March 13

Jesus – we did do some climbing

…up and down. Lost trail a couple of times. But no major incident. Had “brunch” at a “Rancho”. Tortillas y con tomate tefritos con queso y cafe. Two mujeres [Señoras] living together with an assortment of children – one seen sucking a pretty and unselfconscious breast – and an apparently itinerant Señor. Did not take exactly the same route as in Deciembre, but approximately. We passed the finger at which we had camped in Deciembre: we camped farther up – not so congenial but o.k. At night a ring of fires in a notch. This morning met three men – shared mescal and M&Ms. Hard climb – came to spot recognized as “fourth campsite” POTRE ITO, perhaps. Water. Visited home – turned out the three men lived there. Coffee with goat milk and tortillas. Had to force 10 pesos as payment. Apparently some Tarahumara live in this vicinity. From no on the way should be as it was in Deciembre

It was: this is a lot of walking to have done in one day: a quarter of the climb and all the way down. Really beat at the end. Discovered, unfortunately, at the Hotel Clarita that Ratso [Carlos] had died since December: burnt in an accidental gasoline explosion while selling the fluid. Disappointed and sorry. The saxophone player [name unknown] from the band now apparently runs the Hotel. Had supper at a family establishment. Shared a table first with two young men, then a young man and woman. The woman, who had seen me earlier as we hiked in, said, “You have beautiful legs” – in Batopilas. Was not able to sleep later on account of two 16 oz cokes and two strong cups of coffee

Further possibilities for living are: medicine, teaching, and on a Rancho, in addition to goats: cows, chicken, maize, tomatoes, etc., perhaps. Divide living between the high lands [mesa] in summer, gorges, villages in winter?

Friday, March 14

Truck ride into Creel: 100p. Both the Batopilas and Urique Canyons were astounding. The narrow deep gorges just north of Urique River bridge !!! Scenery goes by just too fast to appreciate. Unfortunately the camera was misfunctioning – I saved some film for this truck ride

At Creel. Met Carlos Ruiz, the mining engineer, at the La Calaña… hotel. Exchanged news and addresses

Bought two books at the Tarahumara Mission store on the Tarahumara: Pennington, and the other by Kennedy. Nurse running the store from Louisiana. Very attractive: did not get to enquire name. Mission run by Padre Luis G. Verplancken, Ap. Do. #11, Creel, Chihuahua, Mexico

Missed the train out of Creel on account of Jim’s faulty watch. Night at Hotel Korachi

A number of backpackers at the Hotel. One from a prep school in Arizona spent eleven days in the upper Urique. Another from Colorado-New Mexico will hike from Batopilas to Urique. These people seem to know much more about the area than I

Batopilas and Urique Canyons

The road from Batopilas climbs up the Batopilas Canyon to the central inter-canyon highlands across the Urique Canyon and on to Creel. The Barrancas of the Batopilas are impressive and beautiful, but those of the Urique are even more so. [Apologies.]

Saturday

Instead of the usual train, we took a bus: Creel – La Junta – Chihuahua. Beautiful Creel – La Junta section. Great restaurant at La Junta. Chihuahua at 4:00 PM. Bus to Ojinaga. Drive through the night to Austin. I drove all the way

Illustration 1: Family Group

march 1979

This Copper Canyon trip was good. I think I should live there. Take a Tarahumara as a wife and live – and die. The Canyon rim is at an elevation of about 8000 feet and the Urique River is some 6000 feet below. This is at the northern reaches of the Urique Canyon where we went

Figure: Curved reach of Urique River – hike entry point from Pitorreal, downriver, leaving point at Divisadero

We went down from Pitorreal, south of Creel, down the Canyon walls by little brown Indian trails. Our guide Larry Humphreys has down some exploring of the area and knows it quite well, which is fortunate since there are no proper maps of the area. The first day was somewhat miserable – rain, mist, clouds, and yet the beauty was apparent. We camped at a magnificent place looking down into the Canyon looking across the Canyon through wisps of cloud at the Great Gorges of the Urique. This great space was filled with the echo of the Indian drum. It continued to rain and we collected water from puddles. We pitched camp and while under the tarp discussing outdoor ethics – aesthetics and sanitation, Larry began a healthy farting competition which was to end with a grand finale provided by Michael and me five days later as we climbed out of the Canyon to Divisadero area

Let me now introduce the people on this expedition. Michael Moore – lean and agile. That first night Michael and I slept in caves about 50 feet below the camp. Billy Moore – easy going, and his wife Becky who seemed a little less easy-going. Dalney Wilson – initially tight-lipped but friendly as familiarity with the people increased. Paul Reevely – good guy with sense of humor. Larry Humphreys – a character, good outdoorsman, and man with a vision – of what?

Sunday

The second day we continued down descending in brilliant sunshine which remained for the rest of the trip – at day. We passed a Copper Mine – abandoned. At mid afternoon we reached the river. Swam. All nude including the two females – interesting phenomenon, especially for me. The only person who seemed a little anxious was Billy. Perhaps he was anxious that the other “sex-starved” males were oggling at his wife, or maybe he was shy – I don’t know. After the swim we did some scary rock walking to avoid getting wet. Ultimately, however, we had to wade – chest deep – across. We camped by the river. Later on Larry expressed his displeasure at the use of flashlights. Although I expressed disagreement with his point of view, he conveyed his love and identity [for and with] the canyon, its earth, and the changing shades of light. The day had been gorgeous and at night the hills took on a human character – personality almost. We were discussing the practicalities, philosophy and ethics of actually living here. The need to live here. Larry thought with regret that sooner or later the area would become commercial. I conceived the idea that he could make a pact with one of the peaks that surrounded our riverbank camp. He would live there under an agreement with the peak. If the area, the Canyon, were to become corrupted by civilization, the peak would crash down upon the corrupt scene taking it all, including him, to death. Humphreys is a good man

Monday

This morning there was speech about the use of flashlights. Everybody agreed to stop using them. Why so quick to agree? Also a pep talk – yesterday had been hard on some nerves

Hiking down the river today, the bank would at points become vertical Canyon wall. We waded across the river with packs. I don’t remember that it became deep enough to use air-mattresses to keep the packs dry. We’d wade across, shoes, rocks “and all”, and continue marching. Did some fair walking today. Passed a makeshift bridge used for when the river is in spate – connecting some Indian villages to the trail up and out [west rim] to market. We camped a little farther up ahead at “the” hot springs [not very attractive], eagle, and chimney rocks. I think it was this evening that I met an Indian – he was carry a knife. Not knowing any Tarahumara or Spanish, I directed him to the others. A brief conversation followed: “Where are you from? When are you leaving? ADIOS.” In Spanish. In other words: don’t extend your welcome. But this is a guess at interpretation – he was not hostile. The TARAHUMARA who inhabit the area, a quadrangle including the wildest part of the Barrancas, are among the last [the last?] of the North American Indians to maintain their native culture. They are peaceful and yet, especially the gentiles [or cimariones or broncos] must be apprehensive about traffic through their land. When we got close to the Ranchos, they would bet monotonously upon a deep sonorous drum as if to say, “We know you’re there.”

Tuesday

A rest day more or less. Michael and Paul clambered up the east hillside through a side canyon and passed a Rancho where some men were lazily chopping wood. Larry hiked up, perhaps to the rim, and passed by some villages before returning. The rest hung around

Figure: Tarahumara Quadrangle – very approximate owing to the divergence of opinion among authorities. Inapuchi in center of “gentile” area: the un-Christianized Indians live in the most rugged country – Kennedy

Wednesday

Further hiking down the river. We formed groups. Billy, Becky, Larry, Dabney [I think] were more or less together, Michael and I and Paul in the rear. We floated with the river for a fair portion. Passed through a few Ranchos close to the river before finally camping at a beautiful swimming hole. The swimming hole

Thursday

A day of rest before beginning the hike out at early evening. Paul went off exploring, and we left without him. The river faded into the distance and we said farewell from a good height above it. Met a young Indian girl – shy. At dark we stopped and prepared the famous spicy artificial meat [soybean] sauce for spaghetti. Paul stalked into camp just after supper. We then waited for moonrise. Some told stories and raucous jokes. Others pretended to sleep. At moonrise about 10:00 PM we continued the hike up the trail which led out just south of the Porada Barrancas Cabins

What is real, beautiful and true

Imagine the beauty of this scene. A valley some 6000 feet deep has been carved out of the rocky soil of the mountain range, SIERRA MADRE OCCIDENTAL, CHIHUAHUA, MEXICO by the Urique River which, in its flood season, is so violent as to carry forth huge boulders 40 feet in diameter. The valley is marked with hillsides and bounded by canyon wall. These are covered with vegetation of many types – from pine to cactus and lush growth to semi-desert. The slopes are sometimes gentle and at times become cliff face. The area is lit by a moon that brings character and mystery to the land: what secrets do you keep in you deep and silent soul, O Canyon of the Rio Urique? I will visit you again until your silent secrets become mine… Weaving through this wonderful place, in and out among the shadows, is a primitive Indian trail from the river bed to the Rim of the Canyon. Seven hikers are following the trail up and out and can at times see the whole valley in the moonlight

At 2:00 AM we stopped walking and slept

Friday

Completed the hike out. Beer at the Porada. Train to Chihuahua

Saturday

Morning. Walked the streets. Others went to the Market. Bus to Ojinaga. Drive to Austin, arriving on

Sunday

The end

DECEMBER 1979 – JANUARY 1980

Thursday, December 27

A van and two cars leave for copper Canyon, Chihuahua, Mexico from Austin, Texas. Sixteen Humans: Cathy, Toti, Louise, Shirley, Linda, Donna, Marilynn, Dabney, Dave Bousher, Dave Holy, Larry, Carl, Keith, Antony, Alan, I. First stop at Terlingua – spent night – via Route 10 and through Big Bend

Friday, December 28

Leave early for Presidio, border, bus to Chihuahua – city. Desolate country from Ojinaga [across from Presidio] to Chihuahua. Arrived at 2:00 PM, left 10:40 PM. Ferrocaril Chihuahua-al-Pacifico railroad. Beer in dining car, bed in cramped compartment. Moonlit countryside attractive. M. and I made love and slept together. Towards morning the train climbed into the highlands of the SIERRA and in spit of two blankets, Marilynn and Dave Bousher were cold

Saturday, December 29

Disembark at Bahichivo a little before 7:00 AM; truck ride – cold at first with ice on the streams – through CEROCAHUI where we changed trucks and drivers and had a coffee break to Urique. Over the high country and down into the Barranca del Cobre – the Canyon of Rio Urique. The beauty is not describable. It must be seen, remembered. Good lunch at Urique, and in the evening, coincidentally, much merriment and drinking among the townsfolk in honour of a wedding – a local bigwig’s daughter. Music non-stop through the night. We slept in a rented room

Sunday, December 30

A beautiful community

Lazed, relaxed. Took a brief walk up a streambed to the west, off Rio Urique just south of the village Urique. Cool, in the afternoon. Had lunch, breakfast and supper at local establishments yesterday and today. Beautiful food. Some tremendous pickled cherry peppers. Needed to sleep tonight for hike down the Urique River tomorrow. The merriment and music from yesterday’s wedding continues. The musicians stroll up and down the main street of the town, visit various households and play for the family. Apparently there is recompensation in the form of beverage. They continue to drink – the musicians and others – Antony Eyre says “I’ve never seen anyone so totally pissed out of their minds.” It must be some ritual, perhaps informal, the undertaking of this non-stop ordeal of drinking and music. Perhaps a relief, too, from the monotony of existence – an outlet for tensions. The area is dry – by decree of the Governor of Chihuahua. Drunks are littered, literally, on the streets. Some had to be removed from the main street to a position of safety. The drunken musicians continue their strain – tolerable, we seem to agree, but not great music

One might imagine this to be a debauched community if the description of their existence were left at this point. [According to some questionable values.] But this is not so. Upon arrival on Saturday we were treated with utmost courtesy at all times and places. The courtesy was only somewhat diminished on Sunday as a consequence of the drinking – and replaced by an attitude of gusto – said with its Spanish pronunciation. There are no signs of poverty or dirt. While the animals roam the streets and do leave there excrement there – anathema to the “Western” mind – a close and sympathetic observation indicates the animals [pigs and dogs mainly, an occasional cow] are healthy and the excrement is not excessive – that the streets and buildings are kept clean, tidy, and even decorated with plants, the young of which are protected against destruction by animals – all in all a total community. Healthy life in a healthy and beautiful environment. Although I did not ascertain the frequency of the ritual of the wedding, the magnitude of the process indicates that in a village of such apparent virility [beautiful men and women, healthful people, healthy animals], the frequency might be low. The music continued into Sunday night about 2 to 4 AM, Monday morning. The end came with a Male Vocal. A beautiful voice piercing the Night. A rendering of tremendous beauty making the entire process one of final attraction – irrespective of the value attached to the orgy. How does this fit into the communal dynamics? I don’t know

Monday, December 31

A pleasant hike down the Urique. New Year’s Eve amid the Barrancas. Enjoyable swimming

Tuesday, January 1, 1980

New Decade. A poetic discourse on hiking by Señor Humphreys. A group discussion which took up most of the morning. Very short hike down the Urique to a beautiful campsite on the Sands and Rocks. A nice swimming hole – the water is a little too cold for me to want to take more than a plunge. Donna gives Dave Bousher a lesson on swimming. M. and I prepared supper

Tremendous argument with M. tonight. Dissertation on emotions. Illicit use of such words. Share emotion with those who appreciate. Emotion and intellect “are” two cities on the continent of personality – someone’s opinion. Slept one hour

Wednesday

River crossings and a climb off Rio Urique up the Barrancas toward the highlands. We made a mistake with regard to water logistics, failing to take a full supply at the seeping stream, perhaps half way up. Later it became apparent that there was a long climb to water, but by then it was dark and we were forced to walk back in the dark to a finger at which we had stopped earlier. Next morning

Thursday

There were two trips for water – the first was unsuccessful. From the finger we could see a cottage quite some distance down the steep hillside. It turned out to be abandoned. I went on the second [with Antony, Dave and Larry in the lead]. Hard climb uphill, I almost gave up from exhaustion. Finally found water, drank some, and filled our canteens. Was sick on the way back. Revived on return by salt tablet, soup and tea. I had sweated like a pig yesterday and must have been depleted of salt. The final climb back up to the Ridge above the ravine with water was also grueling. But great beauty up on the ridge. Yes! I can live here

Ahh! No bowel movement for 48 hours due to laziness – another thing to avoid

Friday

Early rise and breakfast. Fill up with water from springs. We passed a small hamlet before we began to climb again – until noon. It is still hard climbing – combination of weakness, altitude and heat? Rim of canyon by noon and proceed into Batopilas river canyon. We began to climb down slowly. Began to feel tremendously fit. Antony and I did a fast walk into Batopilas, leaving the others behind. OOO! Today was just tremendous. Felt lousy on initial climb but recovered thereafter. Beautiful once again with magnificent cliff of rock towering above the Batopilas canyon. Drove ourselves on the final stretch into Batopilas – great supper at a family “inn” in Batopilas. Too bloody tired to sleep. Keith showed up later – stumbled through the dark. Antony, Keith, and I tossed in our beds the night through – farting to the heavens. Just too exhausted for a good sleep at first

Saturday

Today is somewhat fuzzy in my memory. I decided not to walk to LA BUFA [a good thing, too – it’s about 12 miles as the crow does it]. Wait and prepare for the President’s [Portillo] sister to visit the village on Sunday. Met the mine operator-entrepreneur CARLOS RUIZ at the Batopilas river bridge, in the evening. He was sitting at one end of it “waiting for the evening to come”. There is a sign at the bridge that says BIENVENIDOS A BATOPILAS. We saw a movie after supper

The village of Batopilas is older and larger than the village of Urique. It seems cleaner, more charming, dignified and quieter than Urique. There is no electricity here yet [as there is at Urique]. Perhaps Urique is more vibrant. The coming of the continuation of the Creel-LA BUFA highway down to BATOPILAS has diminished the significance of Batopilas as a center for trade [INDIAN?] and for mule driver as a form of livelihood. The completion of the road from BAHUICHIVO to URIQUE means that the URIQUE-BATOPILAS highland trail will be well frequented. How long will it be before a highway will be built in response to a felt need?

Sunday

Nondescript again, except for a walk into Carlos’ mine, non-appearance of the President’s sister, music at Hotel Clarita during supper, and Bands at the village square – with dancing – after supper. A couple from a group from Sweden, perhaps [Scandinavia for sure] got up to dance – they were asked for 50 peses

A curious phenomenon. There were two Bands. One – apparently official – playing in the town square. The other – non-official – playing from across the street – in competition, perhaps, certainly better but quieter. We went across to the nonofficial band to listen. They asked for a donation which we declined and they promptly broke up. The same happened on Friday evening. When Antony and I were looking for the Hotel Clarita, we came across the band playing at a street corner. They asked us for 50 pesos which we did not provide since we had not come to listen: they immediately disbanded for the evening

Monday

Tiring truck ride through La Bufa to Creel and train to Chihuahua where supper at BEBIP gives me a stomach ache

Tuesday

Great fish supper at the fish restaurant [OSTIONERIA] in the building of the Santa Regina hotel where we stayed. But terrific pain in stomach all night

Wednesday

Miserable bus ride to OJINAGA but slept and spirits picked up towards end as ache dissipated. Drive back with night spent at Del Rio

Thursday

Nice drive back to Austin through back roads of area between San Antonio and Austin

FEBRUARY-MARCH 1980

26 Friday

Austin – Presidio by Greyhound. Slept in field near Big Bend Travel Service

27 Saturday

Pesos at Spencers. 1:00 PM bus to Chihuahua arriving at 4:45. Checked in at Hotel Santa Regina on Calle 3, and shower. Went to DISTRIBUDORA MAR on Calle 3, three blocks from the Hotel to look for a map of the Urique and Batapilas drainage and Barrancas [with topographical lines] but it was closed. Supper at the Ostioneria on [not noted]

Walked to station to find out train time. Trains leave every day of the week except Wednesday at 8:00 [or 8:20] AM for LOS MOCHIS and also on Tuesday and Friday at 10:30 PM for LOS MOCHIS. These pass through Creel and the Copper Canyon area. There are also trains for Creel at ____ on ____

Once again my feet have developed sore spots, one of which is a blister [though small]. Need to do more foot preparation. Organization for this journey has been bad. My sleeping bag is not warm; I have some questions about the reliability of my stove, especially at high altitudes; I do not have the 1973 Government Map [Dentenal] and I do not have a definite itinerary. This last is not bad since I may now consider possibilities as they arise, but I am not feeling flexible

28 Sunday

Up at las seis y media de la mañana, taped my feet, wore clean socks and walk to la estación de Ferrocarril Chihuahua al Pacifico. Sat in the second class [Primera General] compartment. Uneventful journey except that a] I had tres cervezas, b] I had a conversation with two non-English speaking Mexicans. The conversation centered around backgrounds and was limited by my “Spanish for Travellers” booklet. We shared lunch. [This is another form of unpreparation – my lack of Spanish. But this is not an altogether miserable way to learn. Shared learning]. Prepared learning might involve:

a. Pronunciation, familiarization: tapes, records; television

b. Grammar

c. Vocabuluary; structured approach

d. Use: conversation; big dictionary; novel [literature, comics, newspaper]; technical

Met a group from University of Colorado. Later got the sketch of the trails on the EC Divisadero region from their leader – Joe

Had lunch and supper at at Hotel Cabaña in CREEL where I met the wife of ARQ. JONADAB VELASCO CHAVEC who live out at LAGUNA ARARECO [8 km from Creel] and at Chihuahua. Both are architects. The introduction came from the waitress/manager at the hotel who was trying to answer my question ¿Donde esta la tienda de Miniones Tarahumaras? [I wanted to get the map]. Señora Velano, perhaps, offered help. Since she was going to Chihuahua that night, coming back on Tuesday, she would see if she had a copy at home. Later her husband provided the information that the maps are available at the Government Agency: DENTENAL MAPAS DE MEXICO on VICTORIA en Chihuahua. I do not have a record of her name since she wrote only the name of her husband

Many thoughts today

Beauty

What it means to me for something to be beautiful has changed. People, places and ideas they are not beautiful unless I can see myself in relation to them… where there is beauty, there is pain and tragedy. When beauty is sought there is an inevitable sense of sadness, sometimes sweet and other times not. I think this is one reason this trip is painful – so far

Me. But also because of that lack of awareness. Not all beauty can be sought. But no more because I am avoiding the core

“Making your own rules”. [why] and relations

Insecurity, knowing. Trying: starting and continuing. {I need to focus now on the immediacies of the hike}

Trip

A mixture of insecurity and o.k.ness. But it’s good nonetheless

Beth Hardesty –Try information. Or call Robert Hardesty, residence

29 Monday

Plan: Wash, Bandana, Shoes. Mail. Map. Plan. Phrases

Nothing to report today at Creel except for beer, fear and the fact that the place is swarming with tourists and backpackers – Americanos & Mexicanos. Further – I am running out of pesos, therefore I need to add to the list above

30 Tuesday

Pesos. Luis G. Virplanelen

Interaction of Natural Environment and Tarahumara Culture

Possibilities?

Creel to Pitorreal Schedule from Creel

	A Los Mochis	A Chihuahua
D	13:37	15:40, 16:34
L	13:37	14:30, 17:00
M	12:58, 13:18	9:06, 16:34
M	4:00	15:40, 16:00
J	13:37	9:06, 14:30, 17:15
V	12:58, 13:18	16:34
S	12:58, 13:77	9:06, 15:40, 16:00

31 Wednesday

“Daily” meditation and continuity

On the trail down to the Gran Agua. Supper with MIGUEL. 3 pesos rent

1 Thursday

Trails. Finding water

2 Friday

On the trail between Pitorreal to head of descent to “Gran Agua”. I have just cleaned myself – fresh. And now a sacred moment. Northside trail so it is cool. Overlooking canyons, ridges in the distance; some ranches – Tarahumara. The breezes are like waves at the ocean – coming from the distance and then close by. Filling the canyon and then the gentlest of whispers a shade away from silence. I am here. A falling leaf, turning in the silence. Pine needles glistening. A flitting shadow. Two hawks sailing, soarding, helixing around each other. Their cries fill the space. Two days ago that sound caw made me feel alone. Not now. The large CAW is softened by a sweet “cheep”

Trail