Areponapuchi

January 27th and 28th

Areponapuchi is a small village just 5 miles along the lovely, lovely smooth tarmac road from San Raphael and it‘s the closest you can get to the canyon rim. So after the torture of all those dirt racks, we celebrate a return to proper roads with our shortest day on tour.

This is what it has all been about, copper canyon - a region containing 20 canyons in an area 4 times larger and also deeper than the grand canyon. This is an 1800 metre drop in to the abyss - that's about 4 Empire State Buildings and an Eiffel Tower! Sue stands at 2300m (7700ft) amongst conifer and pine where the ground freezes at night, and looks down on the hot sub tropical climate at just 500m (1650ft) altitude, way below…



It’s dizzying stuff as a teeny tiny Sue tries to establish some sense of scale….



Whilst pondering just how close she came to a luxury hotel on this tour….



One man and his dog - I am adopted by a local pooch who follows me everywhere…



The eye grapples with the mind to take it all in….



Amazingly people live here and there are huts dotted amongst the creases of rock, hundreds of metres below…



Hiking down, deep into the canyon you feel the temperature begin to rise as you lose altitude. We find a school house with tracks radiating out in all directions from it, connecting up the valleys and linking the building to homes; a web of knowledge fanning outwards. Presumably the tracks fade in and out of existence as children reach and outgrow school age. The climbs these children make for their daily lessons is astonishing…



An indigenous tribe of Indians- the Raramuri , pushed ever further in to the mountains by the 16th century advance of the Spanish call this inhospitable place home. The name means “those who run fast” and refers to their legendary abilities during the hunt, chasing down deer on foot by simply exhausting the animal over a period of up to 20 hours. Nowadays they compete in punishing foot races up to 100 miles through brutal canyon terrain. Seriously impressive stuff!!

Simple dwelling, but what a view….



We climb back up to the rim as the sun begins to tease an amber glow from the rocks….



Blood on the Streets

January 26th

We leave Cerocahui just as the daily commute gets in to full swing…



Again we are delayed on the road, and not just by the terrain this time… killer mutant chickens, grown huge and mean; attack on sigh. This guy really did go for us - a cross between a turkey’s rage the week after Christmas, and scrap-yard attack dog…



And a 2 minute stop in Bahuichivo sees us mobbed by local school children…



Two minutes later the word is out and the crowd has grown exponentially…



All of which means we come this close to catching the train that would make all the pain go away…



Not that I would have let Sue catch it.
I keep telling her - this is cycle touring and it’s not supposed to be fun.

And the pain does keeps growing. Sue takes a tumble as she brakes hard on a descent and the road dissolves under her tyres. I turn medic and break out the antiseptic wipes as her arm and leg leak the red stuff. Amazingly she questions my bedside manner when I offer to take pictures and use duct tape on her bandages. This is the road that got her....



All the while the next train rolls by mockingly close to the “road”….



This is the last in a series of switchbacks we have been climbing for 700 vertical metres - half a mile into the sky...



Back in Cerocahui, a local guide told us once we finish the climb, make sure not to miss the right turn down to San Raphael, it’s not signed and looks like a minor road heading 2 miles in to town. If we miss it, we make a loop and end up back in Cerocahui - a sort of cyclist’s Groundhog Day. This is something to avoid.

So we make a turn down what is a minor looking road. Which becomes ever more minor, descending steeply, and then turning to deep mud until we dead end at a village of maybe 20 souls just as the sun begins to set. It’s freezing at 2300 metres (7600 ft) of altitude and we are just thinking about pitching the tent for a cold night, when a local turns up looking bemused. Why don’t we just hitch a ride back up to the road, he inquires, as if asking the obvious question. I explain we have seen no traffic all day and I am questioning my Spanish when (I think) he replies there will be some along any minute. The cycle gods do intervene once again when a convoy of lights emerge, as if on cue over a hill, and a passing construction crew of diggers and backhoe loaders approach. Acting as if cyclists needing a ride wait at this very spot everyday, they stop, throw the bikes in the back and drive us back up to the main road. They recommend the orangest hotel in the world….



And we have finally made San Raphael. The land where roads turn magically from rock and stone to tarmac!

Back On the Map

January 23rd to 25th

Waking from deep sleep, disorientation hits as we find ourselves in a caravan in the middle of nowhere. Then, after remembering the previous nights treacherous 4x4 ride into the canyon, we rejoin Arturo. He takes us to a prefab that serves as kitchen and canteen for the mining community where he buys us an cyclist size breakfast.

Time to get specific. Last night we arrived in pitch black along an unmarked dirt track, so we have no idea where we are. Simple - I ask the miners where we are on the map. Considerable discussion ensues and it’s clear there’s a difference of opinion… Worrying! Seems there are 3 opinions; 3 different locations are identified, some 20kms apart. 20 kilometers away in these mountains is the same as another galaxy, especially as there are no roads.… We might have a problem here.

Not knowing how long we’ll need to ride out, I guess we’ll need water - a lot of water. The (only) shop only has 1 litre bottles so, to be on the safe side, I buy all of them. I’ll worry about how to strap 18 bottles to the bike later. And how to ride with the 40lbs of extra weight!

We do know we are in the middle of this big area of the map. We know that a town called San Raphael exists because it’s where the tarmac allegedly reappears out of the dirt. We know it is roughly North and roughly 75kms away. We also know it took 5 hours in a 4x4 to do 75 miles yesterday....

Looking back the mine community is rapidly swallowed up by the enormity of the place...



The road is gruelling, and riding is further complicated by runaway trucks overloaded with tons of gold ore as they struggle against gravity with soggy brakes and sliding road surfaces. They aren’t really expecting other road users and we have a couple of near misses….



There are other obstacles in the road too - kindly laying bombs…



And with daylight, we start to comprehend the scale of this huge mountain complex, hidden to us as we arrived under cover of darkness…



Our lunch spot is just spellbinding.
Until you realise this is the route ahead! So far we’ve managed 10km (6 miles) in 3 hours and the water is disappearing fast. The clouds match my mood at this point in time…



And suddenly, after 6 grueling hours, out of nowhere a town appears. Not really nowhere, we’re just in a different place on the map to where we thought, but it’s a welcome sight as half our water is gone - the cycle gods are with us once again. A thrilling, heart stopping 400m descent, bouncing down a rock and rubble road and we’re in “Cerocahui”. With a huge sense of relief - we are back on the map!



Yesterday was 7 hours to cover 22 kilometers and it was a killer - enough to warrant a rest day. This terrain is TOUGH.

Rest days are spent hiking the mountains around the town….



For some, just gorgeous vistas…



To Copper Canyon

January 20th to 23rd

Leaving Topolobampo, (apparently the 2nd largest natural deep water port in the world) it's soon clear that things have changed. The mainland is much more populous and affluent than the Baja and the soil here is held together with vegetation making it way less dusty. We pass Los Mochis - the first industrial town we have seen since the US and on into fertile flatlands...



100 pesos (7 dollars)gets you the worst room in the world in San Blas...



Copper Canyon is in fact deeper than the grand canyon and covers a larger area.... It’s actually a series of 20 interconnected canyons with the main one mistakenly named for the copper it was assumed to contain due to the rock coloration.

As you can imagine trying to build roads into such an area is pretty difficult so they blasted a railway line through, which carries tourists into small villages and towns to get a glimpse of the enormity of the place. The train which starts from a pretty little former Spanish fort town (El Fuerte) is luxurious with a restaurant car and waiter service.

But we are made of sterner stuff than this and we inquire about alternatives. No roads are marked on maps, but we are told there is a way in to the canyon system along dirt tracks made by mining companies. 130 miles in lies San Raphael where a new tarmac road is under construction which takes us the rest of the way....

We cycle out to Choix about 25 miles and then follow the dirt road out of town towards the mountains....



It's tough. Then it gets tougher, the road heavily laced with rocks and gravel. Then it goes uphill. Sharply. Then it turns to sand a foot deep in places. Once our speed drops to 2 miles and hour and we spend as much time pushing as riding we know we're in trouble. There are no towns and no rivers for the next 75 miles which means no water. It's about 5 days at this pace and we need to carry maybe 75 litres! Minimum. Maybe this is a mistake and the train might be better. We have to retreat and ride back to Choix to get more info, where we happen upon 3 guys. My Spanish is OK at best but I manage to discover that one of them is driving out tonight to start a shift at the mine in the morning - do we need a ride?

It feels like a defeat, but we have no option, so, we throw the bikes in the back of his pick up and we’re off back the way we came. The road is amazingly bad, 350 horse power of 4x4 is struggling, taking run ups and 2 or 3 attempts in places. 5 hours and 75 miles later he announces we are here. It's 10pm and dark and "here" seems to be nowhere, but luckily there's a tiny hotel for mineworkers.... Unluckily - it's closed. Raul, our drive seems to take this personally and goes to find his boss.... who just happens to have a spare caravan.... would we like to spend the night there?

We fall asleep amazed at our turn of luck and the generosity of people here who won’t take a penny for petrol or for our luxury accommodation.

But not before first wondering.... How the $%^&%?? do you tow a caravan here? It was tough enough just driving here....
Must have been a helicopter drop.

This is Arturo, gold mine boss and all round fine human being.... plus his impossible caravan.....

La Paz

January 15 to 19th

La Paz is a really nice place to chill out and spend a couple of days R&R after tackling the 1200km length of the Baja. We always planned to get the ferry from here to the mainland, and the only decision is whether to do a 500km loop of the southern coastline where there are a series of beautiful beaches before embarking. Most are now developed American resort towns designed around larger wallets than ours, and we decide to give them a miss.

La Paz is more cosmopolitan, and the statue lined malecon (beach front boulevard) stretching some 4kms is built to waste time just promenading up and down, people watching and eating ice cream.





Wisely we choose a hostel with one of the best Taco stands known to man directly outside and starvation is averted on several occasions....



4 days pass in lazy hazy fashion as we draw a line under the first chapter in Mexico. Beaches with coffee shops and beer vendors help to pass the time...



It's the kind of place you lose a couple of hours just staring out to sea...



But finally we manage to drag ourselves away, rested and ready to tackle the mainland. Pichilingue is the strangely named port lying 23kms (15 miles) along the coast from where the ferries depart.

Pelicans swoop and feast in the bay around the boat....



The 6 hour ferry crossing to Topolabampo seems expensive at 2500 pesos (£125, $180) for 2. An RV would weigh in at 7000 pesos (£350, $625) and lorries pay 10,000. Perhaps this explains the almost empty boat. Strangely the cafeteria closes 1 hour into the crossing which is an unexpected disaster. However it all saves a rather long swim.



The sunset over the water is spectacular....



We arrive in Topolobampo around 9pm and ride to the nearest hotel by torch light. Next is the road to the mighty Copper Canyon!

Constitucion To La Paz

January 9th to 15th

There’s not a lot you can say about the City of Constitucion really. It is a city, but you can get that from the name. Otherwise I would add “dusty”, as in the “Dusty” City of Constitucion. And that’s all I have to say about it really.

And this is my only picture of the place….



So we leave, and head for San Carlos, another tiny town back on the Pacific where it is again rumoured there be whales…

Right. Whales again.

In San Carlos it seems the whales are again late, a topic I covered here where I outlined my theory that grey whales are, in fact overrated and a point of view I now feel is confirmed by this latest episode. The whales should definitely be here by now - it says so in the Lonely Planet guide book, and when are they ever wrong. I guess these whales mustn't have read the latest edition.

We meet Francisco and his wife who have just spent the last 24 hours straight, driving a small convoy of RV’s down from Ensenada, close to the US border; arriving minutes before us. They have towed their newly aquired boat with them, and at first, things look promising. They explain they are filling in for the former whale boat tour operator who has just been elected to the Mexican Congress! Consequently he has left a life of whale watching behind in order to take up national policy making. It’s hard to make sense of this tall tail, especially given that Francisco sways visibly under the effects of fatigue.

Things are complicated further when one of their dogs is suddenly attacked by a local street dog while we speak. Francisco leaves the conversation in haste to join the mêlée and a certain amount of blood is involved! It all begins to get confused. The price is a further complication at $75 an hour with a 3 hour minimum.

So in summary - we need to give at least $215 to a bleeding, bleary eyed, exhausted tour operator with an unfamiliar boat on his maiden voyage in unfamiliar waters - to probably not see any whales because they are again, late…. It’s a tempting proposition, but one we reluctantly pass up.

Nice sunset in San Carlos though….



So we ride back to Constitucion encountering huge swarms of colourful (and badly photographed) butterflies flitting amongst fields of wild flowers….



And then south on our final leg along the Baja to La Paz. It's not a hard route to follow....



Fortunately the road designers thoughtfully included made to measure free camping facilities under the road...



The next day is a repeat of the previous - south, no deviations....



And again, camp facilities are provided on the outskirts of the city...



Then a final 20kms take you to the sea and the city of La Paz...