The official travel journal of Jerry & Ann Linebarger
                           www.linebloggers.com

At 8:40 a.m. on Friday, January 26, our Wagonmasters, Steve and Gloria Gibbs, gave the command, "Wagons Ho!" and 23 rigs in our Adventure Caravans tour group followed them out of the Loma Paloma Campground in Presidio, Texas. We were making a run for the border! Bubba had been assigned number 17 and as we left our campsite, we began what would become a ritual each time we departed by reporting to the Tailgunners, Dan and Carol Begy, that #17 was "on the road". It was an exciting morning – one that we had anticipated for many months. We were really going on the Copper Canyon Top and Bottom Tour. Bubba was clean, shiny, and well-stocked for the trip. Our CB radio was installed and tuned to Channel 16. Our fresh water tank was full of "sweet" water, as they call water that is safe for drinking. We had exchanged our dollars for pesos at a rate of 10.75 pesos to the dollar. We had our supply of tincture of iodine that we would use to treat any fresh fruits or vegetables we bought along the way. We had our antibiotics and Lomotil, just in case we needed them. We had met all of our group members by now and had shared a number of laughs so we felt good about the mix of the group and the 28 days that lay ahead of us. We had enjoyed our first group meal together at a restaurant in Presidio. We had shared a table with Carl Lee and Cheryl Lane from Lincoln, CA (near Sacramento) – the first of many good times we would have with them along the way.

Our destination that first night was the Del Fresno Parador RV Park in the city of Chihuahua in the state of Chihuahua. We had attended the 3-hour orientation and travel briefing the day before and had learned the motto for traveling in Mexico – "Don’t panic and be flexible." We had received our trip log book with detailed directions, mileages, sights, and most importantly topes (to’-payz) along the way. Mexican villages and cities are filled with topes – back home we call them speed bumps. You can bet that even in the tiniest of villages, there will be at least two – one at each end of town. In Mexico, topes come in many forms from painted stripes across the road, to round metal bumps, to concrete humps. Either of the latter two can do major damage to any vehicle if taken too fast, especially an RV. Unfortunately, not all topes are marked. Those are the ones that are really fun. But one of the many advantages to traveling in a caravan is that the Wagonmaster always hits them first and radios a warning to all those behind him.

The Mexicans have many restrictions about what can be brought into their country but we had learned from the seasoned travelers among the group that caravans are seldom stopped or searched. The Mexican government fully understands the millions of dollars that are poured into their country every year by the gringos in their RVs. So, having been told that wine was hard to find in Mexico, we entered with our "hidey-holes" well stocked.

So, we were off. We crossed the border at Ojinaga (oh-he-nog-ah) without fanfare. No one asked to see our passports, no one questioned what we had on board . . . this was going to be easy! Then, oops . . . our Wagonmaster, Steve, and the seven or eight rigs right behind him, made a left turn toward the Chihuahua Cuota (toll road) noted in the trip log and ran into road construction. Steve radioed that the rest of us should not make the turn but take an alternate route so we did. However, just after three of us passed the turn, he then radioed that a local man had seen the dilemma the gringos were in and had graciously flagged Steve down and volunteered to lead the caravan through the construction. Steve thanked him and off they went. So, all the rigs made it, except for the three of us who were wondering aimlessly trying to find a place to turn around! We finally did get turned around and went back to the original turn and made our way through the construction. Once we were all back together, Steve radioed that he had stopped to thank the local man who led us through and offered him 50 pesos ($5) which the man would not take . . . we had just witnessed the first of many acts of kindness we would see from the Mexican people during our trip. And we had passed our first test of the "don’t panic – be flexible" rule.

A note of clarification for the reader: the Wagonmasters’ job is to lead the way, assuring that the caravan gets where it’s supposed to and that all arrangements are made at the campgrounds, restaurants, sites of interest, etc. The Tailgunners’ job is to follow the caravan and, should anyone have mechanical problems, they assist the caravan member in getting their rig fixed or, if towing is required, they stay with the folks up to 24 hours for repairs then lead them back to rejoin the caravan. The same applies if there are medical problems – the Tailgunners stay behind for up to 24 hours to assure that medical care is obtained. Luckily, no one on our caravan had mechanical issues that couldn’t be repaired on site and no one had any health problems that prevented them from continuing with the group.

It was a beautiful day with a vivid blue sky – the kind of sky that just lifts your spirits. As we climbed from 2,500 to 5,000 feet in elevation that day, heading toward the city of Chihuahua, we saw snow on several mountains. And aside from our one road construction snafu, everything was going perfectly. We had not only crossed the border without any issues, but we had been waved through the customs inspection and the military checkpoint. Ah, the joys of traveling in a caravan. I do have to comment, however, that it is a little spooky to encounter a military checkpoint where there are young Mexican soldiers armed with loaded automatic weapons. We would encounter a number of these checkpoints during our trip but at only one would we actually be stopped – more about that later.

We were struck by the number of shrines that we saw along the road. They were carved into the hillsides all along the way – some more elaborate than others – but all contained at least the Holy Mother and baby Jesus. There is no doubt that this is a Catholic country.

We arrived at Del Fresno Parador campground on the outskirts of Chihuahua and settled in for the night. It was a nice park – clean and well-kept. We decided that we didn’t want to cook that night, so we went out to dinner with Carl and Cheryl. It was not a memorable meal but we did have great fellowship.

Saturday morning, a bus picked us up at the campground and we met Martine who would lead us on a guided tour of the city with several stops along the way. Chihuahua has a population of about one million and was an important setting for the hazardous years of the Independence movement. Our first visit was to Poncho Villa’s home and museum. It is a large building built around a beautiful courtyard with orange trees. We immediately wanted to pick one when Martine told us that they are not sweet and are only used for making marmalade – now I know why orange marmalade doesn’t really taste like oranges!

We learned that before the Mexican revolution in 1910, most of the country’s land was owned by a few wealthy families. Everyone else in the country worked for these families as slaves. Doroteo Arango was born to one of these poor families. When he was a teenager, his sister was raped by the master – not an unusual occurrence in those days. However, Doroteo was so angered by this act, that he killed the landowner and had to flee to the mountains to avoid being killed himself. It was there that he was adopted by a group of bandits, led by Francisco Villa. The mission of this group of bandits was to overthrow the government, take all the land from the wealthy landowners, and divide it among the people of Mexico. Doroteo quickly rose to be second in command of the bandits and, upon the death of Francisco Villa, Doroteo became the leader. It was at this time that he took the name of the man who had adopted him and became known as Poncho Villa. His reputation spread throughout the country as the hero of the people and he was revered by all the poor people.

The revolution resulted in the establishment of the farm cooperative program that redistributed much of the country's land from the wealthy land holders to the peasants. The cooperative is still in place today and comprises nearly half of all the farmland in Mexico.

Poncho had three properties: this house in Chihuahua, a hotel not far from the city, and a mountain hacienda in the state of Durango. Obviously, he became a wealthy man as a result of the revolution. He had twenty-five wives but only his second wife, Luz Corral, was recognized by the government. She lived in this house/museum until her death in 1991. She and Poncho had one daughter, Luz Elena, who was poisoned at the age of two by their Chinese cook.

Poncho was assassinated in 1932 by hitmen of the Mexican president. It was not until 1971 that the government designated him as a hero and had his body exhumed and re-interred in Mexico City, along with a monument honoring him.

We went across the street from the museum where a husband and wife team demonstrated how they hand-make their line of pottery based on patterns of the ancient Indians of the area. The beautiful pottery is fired in hand-dug kilns using dried manure as fuel.

Our next visit was to the Government Palace where we learned that Mexico has had two major wars. The first began on September 15, 1810 when New Spain, as it was once called, declared its independence from Spain. This War of Independence lasted 11 years. The priest Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, considered the "founding father of Mexico", was the chief leader of the revolution against Spain. For this, he was held prisoner in what is now the Government Palace and was executed on June 29, 1811 in the central patio. To honor him, a flame of liberty burns permanently on the Palace altar. Following this war, the rich hacienda owners ruled until Poncho Villa led the Mexican Revolution that ended in1921.

From the palace, we walked down Independence Street, sort of an open-air mall filled with many shops and restaurants. In about six blocks, we reached the city’s beautiful Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi which took 99 years to build (1727 to 1826). In fact, it took so long to build that several architects worked on it. The initials of each architect and their dates can be found throughout the building. There are 18 bells in its towers. All the bells have not been rung at one time since the end of the revolution. If fact, Martine told us that if all bells were rung at once, it would break all the windows in the surrounding buildings. It is a beautiful church with a seating capacity of around 250. There are not many windows so it is rather dark inside but still beautiful, very well kept and very reverent. We were lucky enough to visit during the baptism of a baby. There is nothing sweeter.

We next went by bus to Bull Park, one of the many green spaces throughout Chihuahua. This park honors the Longhorn cattle industry and its importance to Mexico. Interestingly, we learned that the Longhorn’s origins are in Africa, not Texas. From Bull Park, high on a hill, we could see another park that honors Anthony Quinn. Funny – we always thought he was from Greece but he was actually born in Chihuahua. His father was Irish and his mom was Mexican. They moved to Los Angeles when Anthony was only four years old but the city is very proud to claim him as a native.

The view of the city from Bull Park is very pretty and it is clear that Chihuahua is prosperous. It is surrounded by mountains, is very clean, and has lots of modern stores including Staples, Home Depot and, of course, Wal-Mart.

We had a delightful lunch at Rincon Mexicani, or Mexican Corner. After we were delivered back to the campground, Jerry decided he just had to have a Payday candy bar so that called for a trip to the local Wal-Mart, seven or eight miles away. Our audio recorder was on the blink so we decided we would also look for a new one while we were there. Cheryl went with us and, except for two turns going the wrong way on one-way streets, all went well. We were impressed with the courtesy of the local drivers. We made several purchases but no Paydays were found. We got back in time for our daily travel briefing where we learned about tomorrow’s activities. There was also a presentation by a local woman about the difference between vanilla flavoring and vanilla extract and how extract is manufactured. And, of course, we had the opportunity to purchase, if we wished.

Later that evening, we were bussed to our "Welcome to Mexico" dinner and folklore show. Dinner was good and the folklore dances were entertaining but, by the time we got back to the campground at 8:30, we were all really, really tired. In the meantime, Carl and Cheryl discovered that they had left some of their clothes in a dryer back in Presidio so that called for another trip to Wal-Mart at 8 a.m. the next morning! It would have to be a quick trip because the caravan was scheduled to leave at 10:00 but we talked to Tailgunners Dan and Carol and they agreed to wait for us. As it turned out, we did get back in time to leave with the group for the short 65-mile trip to Cuauhtemoc (Cwah’-tuh-moc). Cheryl and Carl didn’t buy any clothes but they did replace the coffee pot that they broke that morning.

After an uneventful trip to Cuauhtemoc, we checked into Loewen’s RV Park. Cuauhtemoc is primarily a Mennonite community so we spent the evening and the next day learning about their culture. The Mennonites trace their roots back to 16th-century Europe. The Anabaptists, preachers of adult baptism, were persecuted for their beliefs, and many immigrated to Canada. The Mennonites take their name from Menno Simons, a 16th-century Dutch Anabaptist leader, who laid down many of the principles of their faith. Perhaps the most important of these principles was that of forming spiritual communities in which the faithful would live apart from the secular world and remain close to the soil.

The Mennonites in this area came from Canada. It seems that back in the early 1920’s, there was friction between the Mennonites and the Canadian government—the Mennonites do not believe in educating their children past the sixth grade (or they become too worldly and stray from their religion). Additionally, they do not believe in serving in the military and Canada would not allow them to live under different rules than the rest of the country. So in 1922, at the invitation of President Alvaro Obregón, 20,000 Mennonites came to Mexico to settle on 247,000 acres of land in Chihuahua's San Antonio Valley. The immigration was profitable for both Mexico and the Mennonites as the Mexican government was seeking farmers to settle the land which had previously been owned by William Randolph Hearst. Hearst and other foreign landowners had been expelled from the country following the Mexican Revolution. The two parties made an agreement whereby the Mennonites would purchase the land from the Mexican government and their children would be forever exempted from the educational laws of Mexico and from serving in its armed forces. In addition, the Mennonites were exempted from paying taxes for fifty years.

Today, there are around 50,000 Mennonites living in the vicinity of the city of Cuauhtemoc. They are known throughout Mexico for the fine cheeses they produce and for the apples, wheat, corn, and oats they grow. They are actually divided into two sects of the Mennonite church – the Old Order and the Liberals. The Liberals broke away from the Old Order church a number of years ago. They dress in modern clothes, send their children through high school and some even go on to college. They have modern homes with electricity and teach English, Spanish and German in their schools. Old Order schools (through 6th grade only) teach only High German.

While in Cuauhtemoc, we visited an Old Order school and church, a Mennonite grocery store (Jerry found Payday candy bars there!), the Mennonite Museum and had lunch in an Old Order Mennonite home. The Loewen family, who own the campground where we stayed, also prepared dinner for our group one night. We especially enjoyed the smoked pork chops and bought some to take along with us. We ordered a homemade apple pie for the road, too. The Loewens are Liberal Mennonites and are a lovely family with strong work ethic and warm and friendly ways.

On Tuesday, January 30, we headed for Creel, high in the mountains at an elevation of 7,650 feet. To reach Creel, we had to climb to a summit of over 8,500 feet. We were a little worried about how Bubba would perform at higher elevations but, I am happy to report, Bubba did great. It began to rain after we passed through La Junta. We are so tired of rain! It’s been raining since early January and we can’t seem to get away from it. As we drove through the lumber town of San Juanito, we began to see a pattern. Everyone comes out of their houses to see all the RV’s go by and to wave at us. The people are friendly and the children, especially, are thrilled when we wave at them. We checked into the Villa Mexicana RV Park in Creel about 1:30 in the afternoon. It was a nice park with a restaurant and lounge owned by Raul, a very nice man who speaks excellent English. Later that afternoon, Raul hosted a margarita party for our group, complete with live entertainment.

As you all know, our purpose for this trip was to see the Copper Canyon. The Copper Canyon (Barranca del Cobre) is located within the Sierra Madre Occidental of Chihuahua. It got its name from the colors of the canyon walls when the sun rises and sets upon them. It is not one but a system of several magnificent gorges that dominates the west-central part of Chihuahua, Mexico’s largest state. The term, Copper Canyon, generally refers to three different geographical areas and is generally used by travelers to define the total canyon system, which covers 25,000 square miles. Six of the major canyons in the system are Urique Canyon at 6,136 feet deep; Sinforosa Canyon at 6,002 feet deep; Copper Canyon at 5,770 ft deep; Tararecua Canyon at 4,674 ft deep; Batopilas Canyon at 5,904 feet deep and Oteros Canyon at 3,225 feet deep. The locals call this area the "Barrancas" or canyons. In comparison, Arizona’s Grand Canyon has a depth of 4,674 feet and is approximately ¼ the size of the total Copper Canyon area.

I awoke on Wednesday, January 31 with a touch of Montezuma’s revenge and stayed in bed for the next two days. Thank goodness, we had Lomotil with us. It was rainy and nasty outside. On this day, our tour group was divided into two groups and the first half traveled to the bottom of Batopilas Canyon, within the area referred to as the Copper Canyon, for two nights. Luckily, Jerry and I were in group 2 or I would never have made it. There were eight dogs along on the trip and we had agreed to take care of three of them, while the first group went to Batopilas. Bucephalus and Buckeye, Carl’s yellow labs, would remain in their motorhome but we would walk them, feed them and make sure they got lots of pats and hugs. The third dog, Mandy, a sweet mixed breed belonging to John and Anita Campbell from Escondido, CA, would stay with us in our rig. Since I was sick, poor Jerry had to bear the brunt of it for the first couple of days but the dogs were wonderful and we were glad to have a "dog-fix", as we call it.

While group 1 traveled to the bottom of Batopilas canyon, group 2 went on a tour of the Creel area, focusing primarily on learning more about the Tarahumara Indians. I was sick so Jerry went without me. The tour guide’s name was Denise, a pretty young woman in her early 20’s. Her mom and dad own a hotel, restaurant and tour company in Creel as well as the hotel at which we would stay in Batopilas. Denise actually spent a year with a Michigan family who had visited her family’s hotel for a number of years. She went to live with them to improve her English skills and to learn more about American culture. It worked – she was very well spoken. Denise’s brother, Cesar Gonzalez, also went to live with an American family in California for a year. Cesar would be our guide on our trip to Batopilas.

The first stop was at a Tarahumara Indian cave dwelling. Housing two families (12 people), the cave was about 40 feet wide. They live primarily on parched corn, ground and mixed with sugar. They eat little meat, traditionally only at celebrations. They make their own corn liquor (teshuino) and corn beer (tesquinada). There is a real problem with alcoholism among the tribe, including men, women, and children. Children are considered adults at age 7 and are allowed to drink as much as anyone – a really sad thing.

There are approximately 60,000 Tarahumara Indians (or Raramuri "the people of the swiftly running feet" as they call themselves) who live on the high mountains and in the deep gorges of the Barrancas. The Spanish originally encountered the Tarahumara throughout Chihuahua upon arrival in the 1500's, but as the Spanish encroached on their civilization the shy and private Tarahumara retreated to the nearly inaccessible Barrancas. Only the Jesuit missionaries followed at first and with only scattered success. Because of the rough topography of the area and because the Tarahumaras have largely rejected assimilation into the Mexican culture, they remain one of the most primitive tribes in North America. They are small in stature and are famed for their long-distance running ability. They are seasonally nomadic, cultivating their crops and tending their animals on the highlands during the summer and moving to the canyon bottoms during the cooler months. They are unsociable by nature so there are no villages, although they are organized socially into communities. They primarily live in caves, under cliffs and in small wood and stone or adobe cabins in remote areas, much as their ancestors have for the last 400 years. They are a matriarchal society. The women are strong, as is evidenced by the fact that they give birth alone and in a standing position . . . whew! TheTarahumara live a simple life undisturbed by modern technologies. It is considered a privilege to be allowed to visit their homes and ranchos as we did on our trip. They survive on the sale of handmade crafts, including handmade violins, pine needle baskets, woven belts and bark carvings. We would have many chances in the coming days to make purchases.

Their favorite sport and entertainment is foot races, an exercise at which they excel. It is often the cause of great gatherings where they drink tesquinada and bet on their favorite runner. These races last up to 72 hours. The competitors kick a wooden ball a little larger than a baseball as they run. During the night, the runners are illuminated by torches. Scientific studies have been made to determine the reason why these people are able to run such great distances. The only difference found is that their hearts beat slower than normal.

The next stop was at the Valley of the Mushrooms, an area filled with large boulders of interesting shapes. By now, the weather had really turned nasty as it was sleeting, raining, snowing, and miserable so the group moved on to visit a local boarding school for the Tarahumara children. There are 200 children enrolled in the school. Eighty of the students live in dormitories Monday through Friday because they live up to 60 miles away from the school and have to walk to get there. The school is trying to raise money for an additional dormitory for the children. Of course, we contributed to the cause.

We awoke to four inches of snow in Creel on Thursday, February 1 so our activities for the day were cancelled. And we thought it would be warm in Mexico! It was good to have another day to recuperate from whatever it was that ailed me and it was great to be able to enjoy the snow without having to get out in it.

Raul had made arrangements for the propane truck and the water truck to come by so we were able to fill up both tanks. Water is a real commodity in Mexico. Because the pipes all over the country are contaminated, everyone buys drinking water. Water trucks are everywhere, carrying sealed 5-gallon bottles of purified (purificado) water. The cost per bottle is typically around $2.00 and well worth it! And for a small tip, the drivers would even pour the water into your tank for you. Or, in our case, our new friend Bob Kaskel from Idaho used his electric pump to transfer the water from the containers into our tank. Bubba was happy to have a drink of fresh, sweet water.

On Friday, we took a tour of Creel, a nice little town about 100 miles southwest of Chihuahua. Visiting the town’s museum we learned that Creel was founded in 1902 in conjunction with the building of the railroad. Creel’s primary industries are lumber and tourism with tourism taking a lead in recent years. Easter is the busiest season because the Tarahumaras have their biggest ceremonies during this time and people come from all over the world to see them. It is believed that the Tarahumaras have been in the area since the 1300’s and there is much information about them in the museum. As mentioned earlier, the Tarahumaras seldom eat meat, except during ceremonies and celebrations. At that time, one or more animals are shared by the group. The males are in charge of building shelters, working the land, cutting wood, hunting and gathering. They are organized loosely into communities though individual families may live kilometers apart. They are governed by an elected mayor who’s in charge of solving disputes and problems, making decisions for the community, assuring that the tribe follows traditional ways, supervising tribal ceremonies, and promoting religious traditions. They also have an assistant mayor and marshals who help uphold the community laws.

The Tarahumaras have survived many hardships through the years yet a significant number manage to hold onto their centuries-old customs. Some characterize them as "living to survive" meaning they have few personal possessions or material wealth and do not want these things. They are happy with their lifestyles and their customs and say it is wrong to call them "uncivilized". They purposefully shun all material things to stay true to their traditions and true to their gods. Most have been converted to Catholicism but still believe in their other Gods, too. We are told that the Indians who live in the canyons are truer to their traditions than those who live in the highlands. For example, we saw no men in town wearing the traditional loincloth and loose shirt, as we are told we would see in Batopilas. However, we did see a number of women dressed in their colorful skirts and blouses, in Creel. There has been much intermarriage with Mexicans. Cesar and Denise are from a mixed marriage and are referred to as mestizo (male) or mestiza (female).

Adjacent to the museum was a small shop where Tarahumara crafts are sold and proceeds go to support the town’s 60-bed Jesuit hospital. The hospital was founded by Father Luis Verplancken, who arrived in the area in 1952 and dedicated the rest of his life to the betterment of the souls and bodies of his Raramuri (Tarahumara) brethren. We toured the hospital and met the administrator, a Catholic nun. The hospital is primarily for Tarahumara children and receives no government support. Of course, we left a contribution.

In the meantime, group 1 arrived back at the campground and reported some problems while they were at the bottom of the canyon. It seems that the storm that we had on top that brought four inches of snow, brought rain and power outages in Batopilas. So, we were warned to take flashlights and candles with us in case the power had not been restored by the time we reached the hotel tomorrow.

On Saturday, February 3, group 2 loaded into vans and off we went to the bottom of the Batopilas canyon to the village of Batopilas. The trip itself was only 85 miles but 45 of those would be on a one-lane dirt road that hung off the side of the mountains. Jerry and I, being two of the young ones on the trip, took the back seat of our 15-passenger van – we are such martyrs. But we learned lessons from the older ones on this trip so, in the future, we’ll report that WE suffer from bad knees or a bad back or motion sickness or some other malady and then WE will get the better seats!

Ann's Journal