Marlboro Posing

After the gearshift soldering by the fellows on the river in Urique I packed up all my still half-wet gear and left the elderly hippy American’s hostel and made for El Fuerte, Sinaloa, MX.  All was going swimmingly as I crested the canyon with great confidence and no small sense of satisfaction that I had so far navigated some of the toughest motorcycling terrain around.



Bike after wipe-out above Urique

During the night the workmen had decided to grade the road some more and so there were large dunes of red clay dust and rocks freshly deposited on the trail.  As I rounded one corner I thought to myself what a large pile there is in this corner. Then my front wheel slid out, then my back one as I eased off the front brakes, then the bike went down to my left and I flew over it and felt the bike flip over behind me and land on it’s right side.

Gathering myself I check the bike – damage report:
- bent faring, the bike didn’t turn left so well
- paint showing it’s true colours
- GPS mount, snapped
- shin, minorly scraped

So feeling insecure on the bike I continued over the spine of the Sierra’s warily passing over the serious construction over which I broke the gearshift yesterday.  Of course the GPS no longer was powered as the new adapter had broken en route and I had no idea where I was going but thought I should just follow the largest road and hope it would lead me out of the mountains sometime near nightfall.

Dusk came and the brilliant stars faded into sight whilst still among the mountains with little petrol remaining.  After 1.5 hours riding in the dark with no towns to speak of a Pemex gas station with OXXO (like 7-11) glowed like the most welcome beacon I had seen in a long time. White with dust I inquired to find out I had arrived in Choix, MX – not my destination but happily a sufficient settlement to support a hotel, a Pemex, and 24 hour bank machines.

An abandoned Catholic church



I’ve made it out of the Sierras for now…

Entre Amigos Hostel Urique	Entre Amigos Hostel Urique	Entre Amigos Hostel Urique	Leaving Urique
Leaving Urique	Leaving Urique	Leaving Urique	Leaving Urique
Leaving Urique	Leaving Urique	Leaving Urique	Leaving Urique
Leaving Urique	Urique From Above	Leaving Urique	Urique From Above
Urique canyon	Around Urique	Above Urique	Above Urique
Around Urique	Urique Canyon	Above Urique	Above Urique
Above Urique	Around Urique	Urique Canyon	Above Urique
Above Urique	Around Urique	Urique Canyon	Above Urique
Another Bike Pic From Urique	Top View Urique canyon	Highest view of Urique	Looking miserable, feeling top of the world
Bike after wipe-out above Urique	Sun starting to go down trying to escape the Sierra	Marlboro Posing	A ruined truck
A town before Tubares	Sierra's at sunse	Sierras at sunset	A river that I'm sure I crossed
An abondoned Catholic church	An abondoned Catholic church	El Rio	Bimbo Truck

The GPS USB adapter (2nd one) failed leaving Urique so this map will have too many straight lines – broken routes… but for anyone downloading it, just stay on the main (mining) road the whole way and you’ll find yourself in Choix – the Pemex beacon!)

Urique to Choix, MX

Hotel Real De Las Minas at Dawn

Having fallen asleep at 8pm in Batopilas I woke early to the usual Mexican small town sounds of rooters crowing and dogs barking.  So I sat in the main square and watched the old woman sweeping the square and men opening the shutters on their businesses.  I had been told of the shortcut (6 instead of 10 hours) to Urique – a town at the bottom of the biggest canyon.  The shortcut cut over the mountains instead of retracing my steps to Creel and then south to Urique.

Fox as a warning?

Not wanting to be caught somewhere in the mountains at nightfall I had breakfast and left town by 8am. I drove about 45 minutes up to near the peak of one of the rock-capped mountains but was doubting the route and becoming increasingly worried about running across the drug runners doing something important that shouldn’t involve me.  I had passed several pickup trucks parked by trees marked in someway – a box left under it or a piece of bright clothing hanging from it.   As I got near the peak I saw a dead fox hung by it’s tail from a tree so that it’s head just brushed a large stone below.  I took this to be a warning of some kind and certainly it filled me with dread – as the GPS was showing no route over the mountain to my destination I decided to go back down to try the route the GPS was suggesting.  30 minutes downhill and some farmers seemed to confirm I was going the right way in the first place.

Wet gear after failed river crossing attempt

The road was much more difficult than yesterday’s from Creel to Batopilas and involved numerous wrong and dead-ended paths as the GPS track below shows.  It ranged from smooth slippery red clay dust to large rocks on very steep single-track slopes with no guardrails/rocks and eroded in parts.  I finally descended to a river crossing. The bike’s engine stalled when I approached the wrong side of the crossing and much to the entertainment of the local Raramuri children I stood knee deep in water, sweating and swearing trying to push my bike across.  I was satisfied to be on the other side only to discover shortly that the trail crossed the river two more times. By the third time I become more adept at just blasting as fast as I could sliding over the rocks.  My side cases weren’t however so waterproof and continued dripping for several hours.

Sun Going Down near Urique Canyon

At about 3:30pm I was getting worried as I had arrived at the locked gate over the road that lead through an active mine.   We (a tractor and a local truck) were waiting for escort trucks to drive us through the part of the path that went through the mine and presumably to Urique eventually.  After the guard demanded a second cigarette from me he told me I could sleep in the dormitory of the mine and that there was a shop up there – I hadn’t brought any water or food save a bag of tortillas.  I was escorted to the top of that mountain past huge mining trucks and caught sight of the thatched roof workers building and dormitories perched on top of the mountain. The news was then broken to me that there weren’t any beds left and I couldn’t camp there.

Gear Shift Fracture - Only 3rd and neutral available

So with 1.5 hours of daylight and at least 2.5 hours of driving to Urique I sped along faster with far less caution than before. I barely could look at the beautiful vistas for fear of sliding off the road or hitting a rock wall on the other side.   At a very steep part I was stopped while a Caterpillar pushed an avalanche of rocks and soft clay dust down the road in order to grade it.  I was told to go and drove rapidly at the part where the debris started.  I hit a large rock which bent the gearshift on the bike disabling first and second gear. So with three workmen pushing me yelling ‘put it in first!’ and ‘give it! give it!’ I managed to fishtail over the debris and kept going.  After driving in the dark for 45 minutes I could see 2000 meters below the twinkling lights of Urique.  I carefully would through endless switchback turns while relying entirely on the brakes and about 30 minutes later rolled into town at about 7:45 pm, dusty and exhausted.

Repaired Gearshift

This morning two dudes down by the river hammered and soldered my gearshift back into shape all the while making fun of me and the others standing around.  They refused any money and it seems to work perfectly so far…

Real De Las Minas Hotel Courtyard at Dawn	Batopilas Square At Dawn	Batopilas Square At Dawn	Closed Shop Main Square Batopilas
Batopilas Hotel Real De Las Minas	Batopilas from above	View en route	View en route
View en route	Fox Hung By Tail	Fox Hung By Tail	View en route
View en route	View en route	View en route	View en route
View en route	View en route	View en route	View en route
Passed over mountain in background	View en route	Short Video of View	View en route
View en route	Bike in front of first river crossing	contemplating first crossing	Stuck in second crossing
Stuck in second or third crossing	Soaking cases bike	Mine Entry	Sun going done en route
Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route
Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route
Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route
Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route
Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Sun going done en route	Broken Gearshift
Broken Gearshift	Broken Gearshift	Broken Gearshift	Repaired Shifter
Repaired Shifter

Batopilas to Urique GPX Track

Eating Little Fatties

The frost on the bike quickly melted into my jeans as I wound through the now familiar twisty pine roads through canyons and past the Arepho lake. The Raramuri sat alongside the road or made their way through the forest paths for destinations unknown. I was frozen and wishing the sun would rise faster as it blinded me on every second curve. I made a roadside stop and again was fed by a family of Mexicans who were making gorditas (‘little fatties’ – fat little stuffed tortillas).

Road to Batopilas

I arrived and hour or so later at the turn off to Batopilas – a new road was being made and the GPS became confused as I passed men pissing on the road and large grading machines. After that the road was half graded gravel riven with the occasional rain rut and the scenery became more dramatic. After 40kms of this the road narrowed to one car width and wound over the highest pass. Serpentine, it wound down without guard rails until it met a tiny river and bridge far below. I had expected a terrible road but have to confess it was only as challenging technically as the mine near Temagami, Ontario that I had ridden through with my learners drivers license.

Old Fellow Who Rode With Me

I had passed a few Raramuri on my way but at one section I was going slowly and was flagged down by an old man and a younger woman in native dress. He babbled something incoherent to me and gesticulated with a wizened hand. I said ‘Batopilas?’ hopefully and he grinned idiotically. So I pointed at the two of them and then the back of my bike. They discussed it and then he tried to climb on, much to the amusement of the woman. So me and the old man wound down the canyon towards the river and after about 10kms I dropped him off and we sat for a while. I wondered if his gnarled feet hurt as I had kept stomping on them accidentally while changing gears on the road paralleling the river.

My GPS then went into overdrive – saying I should make a U-turn in 2.8 kms, which I found quite funny as any spot on this one track trail would have done. So I saw a young Raramuri in a loincloth walking along the road and asked him ‘Batopilas?’ without pointing anywhere – my new technique to extract the truth from ever helpful roadside walkers. He confirmed my direction and I said ‘Jo te-llevo?’ (I take you?) and he grinned and hopped on. He must have found the rough route on a motorbike invigorating as the his loincloth and tumescence didn’t leave much to the imagination. I dropped him off about about 3kms later and made my way into Batopilas.

Road alongside river to Batopilas, MX

Batopilas’ 1500 inhabitants live hugging the river in a deep canyon – they were the second to receive electricity in Mexico after Mexico City apparently (Lonely Planet – if it’s to be trusted). I arrived at the main square and didn’t spot my intended hotel (Real de las Minas) but was in front of a bar with outdoor courtyard tables so I stopped for a beer. Just in time for the new blaringly distorted jukebox to shatter the atmosphere. Not to worry I was joined by several fellows who shared my cigarettes and walnuts and bought me a second beer. As one went to the pool room he dropped his revolver which clattered to the cobblestones pointing just away from our table. The other concluded that he must be drunk and that that was a little dangerous.

Batopilas Main Street

I left them to check into the hotel which was just up the street. The plateless Chevy Tahoes and Cadillac Escalades attest to the regions abilities in marijuana and opium cultivation and cocaine transhipment. The hotel is wonderful and the town my favourite so far. The lovely old woman who owns the hotel sums it up when she whispers confidentially to me in Spanish, ‘Do you speak a little Spanish?, I told the Americans in the other room it’s $50 a night, so if you talk to them, tell them you paid $50 too!’, and then cackles crazily.

	Leaving Creel	Lake Arepho	Leaving Creel, MX
Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX
Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX
Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX
Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Mexican Family Who Fed Me Gorditas Roadside
Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Leaving Creel, MX	Entering Canyon Territory
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Virgen Death Shrine after Bridge
Road Down To Batopilas	Old Raramuri After the lift	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Death Shrine Outside Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas
Road Down To Batopilas	Road Down To Batopilas	Batopilas Real de Las Minas Hotel	Batopilas Calle Principal
River alongside Batopilas	Calf Running in Batopilas	River alongside Batopilas

Creel to Batopilas GPX Track

Some of the rock formations outside Creel, MX

After stagnating for three days in the hotel trying to get some work done I left this afternoon driving south from Creel, Chihuahua. The first destination was about 3kms south followed by 2kms of dirt road of vary degrees of roughness. The road passes through a valley inhabited by the indigenous Rarámuri and eventually leads to the Valle de Monjes (Valley of the Monks).  The attraction of the valley is curious tall rock structures on smooth rocky pine-covered hills.

Friendly Family of Mexicans Who Fed Me

I didn’t stay to long as my main idea before the sun went down was to get to El Divisadero – the continental divide, a town about 45 minutes south of Creel on a beautiful windy pine-shrouded road that would give way to views of mountains and other rock formations.   El Divisadero is a stop on the Copper Canyon Railway (El Chepe) route and the main point is that it affords a view into one of the major canyons.  En route I started talking to a friendly family of Mexican tourists who were having a picnic at a roadside turnout, and they gave me a few sandwiches and some overly sweet pop.  Then about 10 minutes later I was at the lookout and saw my first view of one of the canyons. I’ve not seen the Grand Canyon, AZ so can’t compare it to any other huge canyon – it was a really pleasant and unspoiled view.

Raramuri woman and child the surreptitious way

First View of A Copper Canyon

A Fertility Rock Formation

Around Creel, MX

Heather and Chuck Edwards Over Breakfast

I woke up before dawn in Presidio at the overpriced hotel (3 Palms Inn)  with the intention of making it to the border before anyone else got there and before the narcos I’ld been paranoid about arrived to stake things out.  While packing my bike in the freezing cold I met a nice American-English older couple who then invited me to breakfast.  Nervous about getting across the border and to a reasonable location before dark I left them and went across the border at Ojinaga.

Roadside shrine where the GPS conks out

Customs was quite quick and painless other than the sluggish cow of a clerk at the Banjercito (where you get your temporary vehicle import permit) who couldn’t operate the computer properly and typed in my information about 10 times.  For anyone doing this you need: your ownership/registration, driver’s license, passport, and tourist entry visa – get a photocopy of each beforehand – except the tourist visa as you’ve just been issued it – or get copies of everything at the kiosk window just outside the Banjercito window. It took about 1/2 hour and only 4 other people were doing the same thing at that time – about 8am.

I came out of the customs office and feeling the urge to get quickly away from the border started to drive to get maps at the Pemex station when my GPS started show it’s low battery warning even though it was plugged in.  Pemex didn’t have the maps I needed -e.g. for the area or for the whole country. So I headed for the non-toll route to Chihuahua city according to the signs.  By the time I had crested the first range of mountains my GPS stopped working entirely and so I was a bit worried being in border territory with no maps  and lonely without my soothing commandatrix GPS lady telling me where to go.

Mex 25 South Heading to Creel

I came to an immigration control after about 30 kilometres and was let through easily, then on through huge windy and cold valleys followed by small mountains and dusty dessert scrub.   The free road (MEX-16 libre) to Chihuahua was in decent repair with no traffic so I was reaching 120 at times and generally relaxing after having been through both an immigration and a later army checkpoint.   I arrived in

Outside Creel, MX

Chihuahua deposited on a busy series of thoroughfares all with many signs.   So I waved down a local motorcyclist and asked him where the Walmart was – so I could try to buy a new plug for my GPS – which I discovered had disintegrated – not very impressed with Garmin at the moment!  He drove me part of the way then drew me a map. I got lost again and got 15 minutes of directions from another (attempting to be) helpful fellow and eventually found my way to a rich Mexican’s shopping plaza.  Inside I managed to get a

Broken GPS and Directs to Chihuahua Walmart

Bad face after seeing potential narcos

I took the toll-highway from Chihuahua City to Cuatehmoc which was really fast and then from memory followed the signs to La Junta (‘the junction’ I believe) and then had signs to Creel. The road to Creel wound up from the deep valley through pine forests, with tight corners and dusty little villages in rocky canyons. It was really pleasant other than rounding one corner and almost being taken out by a very heavy and fast moving full tanker truck, and then seeing two unmarked white pick up trucks filled with men in camouflage touting automatic weapons followed by a camouflaged Hummer also sporting the covered-faced gunmen.  I am not sure yet if they were army or narcos.  I’m going to enquire around Creel to find out.

I arrived in Creel happy to be in Mexico – the people are as always personable and the atmosphere much more human.  It feels much safer and less threatening around here than had been suggested to me and how the US media projects – I am not very worried about it at all anymore.

Heather and Chuck Edwards Over Breakfast	Successfully Crossed	Roadside Shrine Where the GPS conks out	Canyon on Mex 16 Before Chihuahua
Canyon on Mex 16 Before Chihuahua	Toll Highway From Chihuahua to Cuatehmoc	Mex 25 South Heading to Creel	Mex 25 South Heading to Creel
Mex 25 South Heading to Creel	Outside Creel Pineforests	Outside Creel, MX	Bad face after seeing potential narcos
Creel Rooftops From Huespedes Perez	Huespedes My Room Perez	My Room	My Room
Back Rooms of Hotel	Tired me on arrival in Creel

Presidio TX, to Creel Mx