I decided to ride to Batopilas, which is another canyon-bottom town like Urique, but a little larger and with a longer history (clear back to Spanish times). I set out on Sunday morning after buying groceries and making calls and such, and rode to the Cusarare waterfall a few miles out of town, then continued on.

The first 45 miles or so of the road are paved with nice, new pavement. And there was hardly any traffic. And it was incredibly beautiful. Unlike our first several miles riding toward Urique, where we couldn't see into the canyons until the end, I could see huge expanses of canyon at every crest. But WOW, was it hard riding. I was ready for the up-and-down, but this was almost disspiriting. You'd ride up a steep incline for 20 minutes, then ride down 5, then up 30, then down 5. I was foolish getting lulled into thinking I knew about the up-and-down, because the last canyon must have taken 2 hours to climb out.

I got to the top just a dusk, nearly out of water, and stopped at the little store there (which was my goal for the day - it's the intersection with the Batopilas dirt road that goes down into the canyon). Rather than have me camp on a flat section of gravel next to their family dump, they put me in an upstairs room, which was very kind, especially since it rained a lot in the night.  read more here... lee mas aquí... »

For the whole of our trip from the Mexican border to Creel, Ron and I saw not one gringo, and heard not a sentence of English being spoken on the street. It was amazing. Surely US tourists went by us in their cars, but we didn't see or hear them.

Then we arrived in Creel, on the railroad line, a major stop for tourists from all over the world. And we stayed in Margaritas, which is the local magnet for travellers of all types, but especially for international "backpackers", the mostly young people who move around the world on buses and trains with their belongings in backpacks on their backs. They usually don't do any backpacking, but they have their stuff in backpacks because they can carry the stuff around that way.

So we ate and hung out with young people from England, Poland, Israel, Germany, Austria, the US, Mexico, and Argentina, to name a few. They all seem to go to the same hotels in the same major cities that are reachable by bus, and form a sort of migrant subculture. Everywhere they go they find the discoteques and entertainment where there are other backpackers. And they see some cultural sites, then take a bus to the next major stop on the "Gringo Trail". It's quite amazing what a distinct subculture it is.

It reminds me of how good and natural bike touring is. You move slowly, you see what's between those cities. You're forced to interact with the local people. It's a delight. And while it's a pleasure to meet some of these young people and see their lifestyle, I think the bike touring way is the way for me.

If Mexican Immigration is one of the least efficient organizations in the country, the Mexican buses are one of the most efficient. Riding to and from Chihuahua to get Ron sent north reminded me of the beauties of Mexican buses.

These days all the main line buses are tremendously modern and comfortable, with big, tall, padded seats and a courteous, skilled driver. They still do usually stop for people who wave them down on the road, and they let people off where they need to be let off along the way. It's a nice thing.

At most stops, a vendor or two will come on the bus and offer burritos or tamales or sodas. Sometimes they just get on and then off; sometimes they ride the bus to the next stop, then ride a bus going the opposite direction to get back.

Yesterday we had a wonderful guitarrist and singer get on and serenade us for several minutes - quite a pleasure. I got to talk with him a bit, and like most of the other men in Chihuahua, he had worked in Colorado for some time, but was happy to be at home.

And all of the four or five people who sat next to me were pleasant, sharing their stories. In the US, bus travel is used only by a few, who generally have no other options. In Mexico, it's used by everyone, so you get a more comfortable mix of people. The buses are marvellous.

After the big Immigration episode yesterday, we put Ron on a very nice looking Omnibus Americanos bus that runs direct from Chihuahua to Denver with no changes. Cost: $68 US. It was to arrive at 8am this morning. And Ron did get to Denver and is resting today. He's planning an Amtrack return to New York, so will be home with Carole in a week or so. It was a great adventure!

In the US, illegal immigrans are sometimes called wetbacks. In Mexico they call them "mojados", which means the same thing. That's what we were in Mexico. We entered the country without papers so were here illegally. When we came through the border at El Berrendo (opposite Antelope Wells, NM) there were customs officials, but no immigration officials, so we had to come in without the papers.

Well, yesterday we tried to fix that before Ron left on the bus from Chihuahua to Denver. We didn't want him having troubles at the border! So we found out where the Immigration office was in Chihuahua was, called them, and went in to get things fixed up.

We explained to them what had happened at the border, and they asked why we didn't go to El Paso to get our papers. (We're on bikes, guys!) I think they could see that we didn't do anything wrong, but a long conversation ensued, without resolution. Then there was an extended phone call to a superior.

We were finally told to go to the office supplies store 5 blocks away and get nine sheets of Form SAT-5, along with copies of our passports. We did.

Then they typed up the forms SAT-5, in triplicate, which explained how we had violated the laws of the country. Eventually, they gave us the forms and sent us to the bank, 5 blocks away in the other direction. We had to go to the bank, pay our fine of $20 ($40 for me because I'm staying longer) and then come back. We did.

Then there was another phone call and we were asked to sit down for a bit.  read more here... lee mas aquí... »

For Ron's grand finale, we decided to take the famous Copper Canyon train from Creel to Bahuichivo (with our bikes) then ride to Urique, which is at the bottom of the canyon.

The train ride was uneventful and interesting, except that the bikes and the BOB trailer were handled quite roughly (the BOB was broken, it turned out). We spent the night in a little place in Bahuichivo so we could set out in the morning for the ride to the bottom of the canyon of the Rio Urique. We *thought* that it was a mostly downhill ride of 32 miles or so. A fairly easy day to finish off with. Wow, were we confused!

It turned out to be the signature ride of the whole Great Divide trip. All dirt road, some parts fairly rough. The first 10 miles were as we expected. But after the little town of Cerocahui we started what must have been the biggest climb of the trip. We were just barely making the bike move up the hill at 2 mph or so, and climbed for 2-3 miles. It was enormous.

Of course, we thought then that we'd start descending. But no, until mile 23 or so, it was hard uphills and little downhills. We climbed far more than we had probably on any day of the trip. We started wondering if we were on the right road, and hadn't seen anyone for ages. But we did finally get to the descent at about mile 23.  read more here... lee mas aquí... »

Well, we made to to Creel (entry point to the Copper Canyon). We rode in today about 1pm after a final crossing of the Continental Divide. (We crossed it yesterday too.)

It was a really tough ride yesterday, and I didn´t have it in me to make the final push to Creel, so we stayed in San Juanito, just 20 miles away. But we had climbed probably 3000 feet and over the Continental Divide at a really significant pass, so it was good to rest for the night.

This afternoon we did get out and do some really pleasant mountain biking in a region of the local people, the Tarahumara. We ended up on doubletrack and then singletrack and then in a pasture, then bushwhacking a bit, but we made it back to Creel. Loads of fun.

We´re working on a plan to explore this fabulous Copper Canyon country in the coming days.

Tonight at 11:30 one amazing party is going to break out here in Creel and all over Mexico. It´s the 16th of September, Mexican Independence Day, and the whole country is celebrating. Shortly before midnight on the 15th of September, 1810, Miguel Hidalgo, a Catholic priest in the village of Dolores, ordered the arrest of the Spaniards in the town and then rang the church bells, which would normally announce Mass. When the people came, he issued the famous "El Grito", the Cry of independence. And tonight we´ll hear it re-enacted here in Creel.

You can read about more Mexican Independence Day at the PBS site.