Days 52 Through 54: Hiking Batopilas To Urique To Creel (aka We Got Robbed And All Is Well)

We were all ready to leave by 5 am, but Don Librado was nowhere to be seen.  Just as we were lamenting that we might have gotten duped, we heard the clip clop of our burro's feet and by 5:30 am we were off.  Turns out that Don Librado's horse had escaped in the night and he had to go find him.  It was a pleasure to hike without our full packs with a gorgeous sunrise and the resplendent views of the Urique canyon behind us.

Our awesome and somewhat stubborn burro.

A lil bit o' Don Quixote, no?  Don Librado leads us on his horse.  This southerly trail follows the spine of the canyon rim offering some of the most scenic panoramas we've ever seen.

I take a moment to bid Batopilas goodbye.

The trail is a bit more technical than the one we took before... here we have some slickrock mixed in with the narrow rocky trails.

We made it to the summit of Cerro La Bufa in about 3.5 hours.  Don Librado looked overjoyed to have arrived so quickly.  Apparently, many of his clients take up to 7 hours to get to this point and he told us we were some of the fasted hikers he has ever guided.  We took advantage of the 360 panorama while we ate and rested.

Breakfast break on top of Cerro La Bufa, the highest peak (photo credit: Emmanuel).

Don Librado keeps vigilance over us.

We head down after breakfast for some rolling hills over the mesa.

Refilling water at an aguaje (fresh water spring).  We were glad to have the water filter as this water source a little sickly looking with the dry season.

Shortly after this water break, a younger guy dressed in fancy duds with a radio attached to his belt came up to Don Librado on his horse and chatted with him for a while.  At first, we thought they might have been friends, but in retrospect, Don Librado seemed a bit nervous after this and we felt like he was rushing us to push on.  We think that this guy had told him we shouldn't be here, most likely telling him that he was to leave us where he had agreed to leave us and that he needed to leave.

Our hike then took us through some areas that had been burnt down not too long before we got to Mesa Larga, where we had agreed that Don Librado would show us how to get down and we would continue on our own.  When I asked Don Librado why the fires had been set, he tersely told me it was to prepare the ground to cultivate beans.  I didn't think much of it at the time, but we realized later that this land was being prepared for a marijuana crop.

Hiking through cinders.

We arrive to Mesa Larga and Don Lidrado points out where there is a water source as well as the path to get down to the road to Urique.

Don Librado seemed in a hurry to leave, but we thought at the time it was because we had arrived to this point so early in the day (around noon) and that he was going to be able to get back to Batopilas that same day instead of having to camp with us that night.  However, the area we had reached was beautiful with a water source, so we decided it would be best to rest, take advantage of having cooler weather at altitude, and do the demanding descent when we were all refreshed.

Hammock time with a beautiful view.  This photo was taken about 20 minutes before we got robbed.

All seemed great in the world, we had a beautiful hike up, a gorgeous spot to camp, and then two young guys came up on me with their faces covered, one with a knife and the other with an ancient looking pistol.

"Go down!"

I looked directly at the guy holding the knife and pretended not to understand and said very loudly in English that I didn't understand, hoping to alert Gonzalo and Emmanuel, who had their hammocks set up a distance away.  He wasn't more than 20 years old and it was clear he didn't really know how to use the knife from his stance and the way he left his entire body exposed (ah, thank you martial arts training for that, it gave me some comfort this guy wasn't well versed in hurting people).

"Don't look at me, do you want me to hurt you?  Go down!  Don't touch your things, just go down!"

I got down from my hammock and started walking down.  At this point I was a bit worried that these guys were going to make us leave all of our things and start hiking down the mountain with no water.  By this time, Gonzalo and Emmanuel realized that something was wrong and Gonzalo started walking towards me.  Then they told us to go to sit under a tree down the hill and wait with our backs turned to them.  Emmanuel grabbed my hand as we walked down.

Once we were sitting under the tree, we realized that Gonzalo still had his wallet.  He took out the cash, which Emmanuel put in his shoe under the sole, and Gonzalo put his ID and debit card in his shoe.  Then he buried his wallet under some brush.  After a while, the robbers came back and started chatting with us.

"What do you have in your pockets?  "Why are you here?  Where are you from?  Where is your wallet?"

And then Gonzalo came up with the most ingenious lie.  He told them he left his wallet in Urique and when they asked where he kept his cash, he told them I was carrying cash for the both of us.  In some ways, it was lucky I was carrying as much as I was because it made the lie seem more plausible, and they didn't question him any further about it.

Then they told us we had to go down.  At least leave the water, we asked.  They told us that they didn't take anything other than our cash.  We could take our time getting our stuff together and getting water, but that we needed to leave the mountain and get to the road today.  They told us they would be waiting and watching to make sure we left.  Don't tell anyone what happened when you get down.

When we got back to our hammocks, everything had been torn out of our bags and strewn about.  But sure enough, other than the camping knives and two of the headlamps, our cameras, camping gear, credit cards, and identification were all there.  Packing quickly, we headed to the spring to fill our water (once again incredibly grateful we had brought the water filter because this water source was even worse than the first) and by 3 pm we had started down the mountain.

It was a long, technical, and grueling descent made worse because it was the hottest part of the day.  I mentally thanked my Ironman training for giving me the endurance for this hike because all said and done, we hiked nearly 20 miles that day, from 5:30 am to 8:40 pm, with over 2000 meters (6500 feet) of climbing and the same descending.  And we made it to the road and another little spring near the little ranches at Naranjo, all the way to the Urique river just in time before it got dark.  We were all walking zombies and a bit delirious from dehydration and exhaustion by this point.

Up near the white rock is Mesa Larga where we got robbed.

Never happier to reach a road... dusk arrives and we make our way down to the river.

Our first order of business was to jump into the river and then to rehydrate.  I had a couple emergency rehydration salt packets in my first aid kit that I had put together once upon a time over a year ago for this trip.  We gulped down the rehydration salts, ate dinner, and tried to sleep. I maybe got two hours of sleep because I woke up every time I heard any sort of noise.

We got an early groggy start, hoping that a truck would pass by so we could hitch a ride to Urique.  No such luck, but we made it back to Urique by noon.  This long stretch from Naranjo to Urique is also a leg of the Caballo Blanco ultramarathon, though I didn't appreciate it quite as much as I did the trail to Los Alisos.  We made a small splurge from Gonzalo's cash supply for cold drinks... my grapefruit soda tasted like unicorn tears.

Morning on the Urique river.

We all walked through the gate of Entre Amigos together, thinking yes, exactly that... entre amigos.  Maruca welcomed us in and we asked if Tomás was around.  Our faces fell when we found out he was out of town for a couple days.  He had promised to help find us a cheap way to transport us and our bikes up to Bahuichivo.  Emmanuel suggested that we try to see if there was anything the municipal government could do to help us.  I was skeptical, but it was worth a shot.

Eduardo Armando Agüero Villalobos, the personal secretary to the president of the municipality saw us and listened to our story.  We knew that no legal action would be taken, the rule of law here is basically nonexistent.  What we hoped was that he could help us find someone to transport us and our bikes as close to Creel as possible.  Although there is public transport out of Urique to Bauichivo, we were concerned the bus would not take three bikes plus all of the panniers.  He called around and said he might have someone who could take us all the way to Creel and then invited us to eat at the Restaurante Plaza, where Emmanuel and I gorged ourselves silly on shrimp.  Armando came by Entre Amigos that night to say that the ride had fallen through, but that the municipality would cover the cost for us to take the bus La Ruta to Bauichivo and make sure our gear would get on.  The kind folks at Entre Amigos did not charge us to stay the night.

The bus driver for La Ruta gave us a little crap for having so much stuff, but finally relented when we said that Armando had given us his assurances and explained what had happened.  Armando swung by to quickly see us off.

We made it up to Bauichivo, happy to not have to ride the long winding road up as it surely it would have taken three days to climb out with no water sources available on the long climb.  Gonzalo and I decided we would take the train to Creel because although the road was mostly paved, the ride to Creel would likely take two days and we hadn't had a good night sleep in days.  Emmanuel was itching to ride so we gave him some money and off he went with assurances that he would call us when he got to Creel.

It was a mad dash to get the train as the economy class cars were completely full, forcing us to go first class in order to get a seat and to have space for our bikes.  We had found out that although there is no bank, you can get cash at the grocery store and I was lucky to have been able to withdraw cash for hefty 5% commission just minutes before La Ruta left or we would probably not have had enough money for the tickets and would be forced to ride to Creel where there is a bank.

The view at the infamous stop Divisadero... they stop the train for 15 minutes for everyone to rush off to take a picture and get snacks.  We rushed only to think... well, we've seen better...

Then at long last, we arrived to the gloriously temperate Creel, with its warm sunny days and cool refreshing nights.  After battling the crowds to get off the train, we put our bikes back together, found a nice place to stay, and then lo and behold, I got a phone call.  Emmanuel had made it to Creel shortly after us.  He had ridden two torturous hours when he was offered a ride by a pickup truck.

A few thoughts about safety and traveling in Chihuahua, Mexico:

• The takeaway from these past few days is that shit happens, not that Mexico is dangerous.  Every country has places that are more risky than others.  The U.S. is no exception.  My former home of Washington DC has neighborhoods where the crime rates are higher than almost anywhere else in the U.S.  We have shootings in schools and bombings at marathons, places where people should feel safe.  This is the first time I have had anything happen to me in all my years of travel.  I chose to travel in an area that I know has almost no rule of law with the full knowledge that there had been robberies along these hiking trails.  I made my decision based on local intel that things were safer these days.  We experienced the best and worst of Mexico all in just a few days.  Two barely grown men who decided to take the opportunity to get some cash cannot erase all of the random acts of kindness we experienced from the ranchers in the area.  In no way do I regret my decision to do this hike.   

• My take on the whole situation is that we got too close to the marijuana fields of a local drug gang and that the guys were sent to make sure we weren't part of a rival drug gang and then to make us leave and that they took the opportunity to get some money.  It didn't make sense for them to leave all of the cameras, Gonzalo's laptop, Gonzalo's fancy cell phone, and everything else.  They seemed like they did not want to draw too much attention to this robbery, and perhaps taking everything would have.

• I do not blame Don Librado one bit.  He has to live this reality of lawlessness and we don't know the whole story.  My take is that the guy on the horse told him he was not to tell us anything, that he was just to take us to our agreed place and leave us.  

• Would I recommend visiting the Copper Canyons and Urique?  Absolutely.  What happened in a remote area has nothing to do with how safe the more populated and touristed towns.   

• Would I recommend the hike between Urique and Batopilas?  This one is tricky.  Many people have had done this hike with no problems.  My goal in this blog post is to put all the information out there so people can make their own decisions based on up-to-date information.  Some might feel more comforted by taking a guide while this may deter others in doing the hike completely.  For those who would do this hike, leave your passport and some cash in Urique (or Batopilas if that is where you staying).  Although I had split my money and cards between different parts of my gear, they sifted through everything very thoroughly.