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We made a number of stops along the way including for a lunch prepared by Cesar, our tour guide and the two van drivers, Martine and Luis. It was at this stop that we learned the true meaning of "Mexico time". We were told that it would take about 20 minutes for lunch to be ready but, in reality it was over an hour. But, as we were summoned to the top of the hill, the setting and the effort of Cesar and his guys made it all worthwhile. You just have to look at the photos to understand how much work they put into the meal. It was a beautiful setting in a papaya grove with mountains all around. The table was set with a white tablecloth and napkins and real dishes and wine glasses. They had prepared a dish of stir-fried chorizo with green peppers and onions, along with hot tortillas and guacamole, all cooked over an open fire! And there were soda pops and wine and we had oranges for dessert. The food was delicious, made even more special by the fact that it was prepared and served by three men in the middle of nowhere!

The weather warmed as we drove further into the canyon – a delightful change from the hard frost and frozen ground at the RV park when we left this morning. And the scenery was spectacular. Unfortunately, as hard as we tried, photos just don’t do it justice. Our descent through some of North America's deepest, most remote canyons left us awestruck.

Our first feeling upon reaching Hotel Margarita in the ancient mining town of Batopilas was one of undisguised relief. I understand now why it is said that the principal feature of this part of the country is inaccessibility. We arrived around 6:30 p.m. after a long, arduous 10-hour trip to the bottom. But the hotel was absolutely beautiful with every room decorated differently so we all opened our doors so we could wander in and out of each room to see the different decors. Our room featured double wooden doors that opened outside to a view of the Batopilas River. Flanking the doors, as well as in the bathroom, were stained glass windows. And, speaking of the bathroom, it was covered in beautiful hand-made Mexican tiles. Even the bathtub was made of the tiles. The wall opposite the front door was made of river rock. Above us were large pine beams with a herringbone-pattern wood ceiling and the floor was made of terracotta tiles. It was absolutely lovely and immaculately clean. We later learned that Cesar’s family owns this hotel.

We all gathered on the terrace for happy hour and our usual laughs. Ours is a happy group -the mix of folks in group 2 is a good one and I have no doubt that fun will be had in Batopilas! We had a wonderful dinner prepared by the Hotel Margarita staff, primarily Arturo and his wife Veronica.

We awoke early Sunday, February 3 (Super Bowl Sunday) in anticipation of the breakfast being prepared for us by the hotel staff. Last night’s dinner was delicious and we expected nothing less that morning. We were not disappointed. We had scrambled eggs with tomatoes, peppers and onions, refried beans, toast, hash browns, fresh fruit, OJ and cinnamon coffee – it was fabulous. We were now well-fueled for a day of learning more about Batopilas and the Tarahumara Indians who live in this canyon.

Batopilas was founded in 1638. There was a silver boom here in the 1700’s and, in its heyday, over 10,000 people lived here. In fact, it was such an important place that it was the second city in the country, after Mexico City, to have electricity. You can still see remnants of the mines and associated buildings. Although the mines closed many years ago, we were told that a Canadian company has bought some of them and is in the process of reopening them. Today, only about 1,500 people live in this narrow canyon. In fact, the canyon is so narrow that the town is three miles long and only a couple of narrow, narrow streets wide.

Our first stop was at the mission school, near the plaza, where we left student supplies that we had purchased. As you find so often, the school was built around an open courtyard and was quite lovely, yet old. As we stood in the courtyard, we could hear the Tarahumara drums in the distance – preparations for the celebration of Lent have already begun. And of course, as throughout this country, there are chickens everywhere – even downtown.

As we walked around town, we noticed numbers painted beside the doors. We were told that the numbers signified that the house had been treated to prevent malaria. Batopilas, like most Mexican towns, is built around a beautiful plaza with a number of shops and restaurants around it. While walking around the town, we stopped into a grocery store and noticed fresh eggs stacked on the counter. We thought it unusual that they were not refrigerated but learned that they are never chilled in the small grocery stores in Mexico and if they are never chilled, they don’t ever have to be. Funny, huh? While at the store, we met our first Chihuahua whose name was Pedro. Pedro was a handsome little guy but shy. However, with much coaxing, he eventually came out from his hiding place and allowed me to pet him. He was so cute and, several times before leaving Batopilas, Jerry suggested we go back and buy him. But we didn’t.

Cesar herded us back into the van and we drove five or so miles on a primitive dirt road to the Lost Cathedral of Satevo, deep in the canyon. It is an extremely poor area as there is no way to make a living here. So, as we drove up, we were surrounded by women and children because they know that the "turistas" always bring candy, toys and clothing. The church is undergoing a renovation, thanks to the help of the government. There was a smaller church built by the Franciscan missionaries in the early 1600’s and abandoned. Then in the 1700’s, the Jesuits built this structure with a goal of converting the Indians to Catholicism and training them to work in the silver mines in the area but their strategy didn’t work. Initially, there were to be two spires on the church but, during construction and just after the first spire was completed, the architect fell to his death. The second spire was never built. There are few Tarahumara in this area now as most have intermarried with the Mexicans.

Our next stop was to visit one of the few Tarahumara families left in the area. The matriarch, Lupe (Loo’-pay) greeted Cesar and welcomed us to her home. Lupe’ and her husband, along with five daughters, three sons and several grandchildren live here. Lupe’ and one of her daughters played the harmonica and performed a couple of their native dances for us. Lupe’s husband continued his chore of making adobe bricks to construct a new cabin for one of their newly married daughters and her husband. None of the family spoke Spanish or English. However, Cesar (being a Mestizo) is fluent in the Tarahumara language and communicated easily with them.

Cesar shared the Tarahumara traditions of dating and marriage with us. It seems that, if a young man is attracted to a young woman, he tosses small stones at her. If she does not like him, she throws a large stone back at him. However, if she likes him she throws the small stones back at him. At that point, they have sex and are considered married. She is then off-limits to all other Tarahumara men. If the new husband decides that he wants another woman, he simply leaves the wife for another. However, the abandoned wife is still considered damaged goods to other men. Lupe’s daughter is in that situation. She is only 16 and has a small child but no other man will look at her now. I don’t quite understand how it can be a matriarchal society and this still happen. We should send Lorena Bobbitt there to give some lessons to these women!

We returned to our hotel for a sumptuous lunch then went back into Batopilas to tour the ruins of an old silver mining headquarters and hacienda owned by Alexander Robey Shepard, formerly from Washington, D.C. He moved his family to Batopilas when he purchased this mine around 1876. They had quite a setup here including a machine and carpentry shops, main office building, granary, stockyard, smelter, and even a water storage tank. In the early 1900’s, Shepard’s operation was robbed and he had no money to make payroll. But he was a very influential man in Mexico so the President of the country agreed to send prisoners to work in the mine. Shepard continued mining operations there until the price of silver dropped making it no longer profitable.

We then went back to the plaza where the "Silver Lady" was to open her shop for us. The "Silver Lady" was a woman from Michigan who moved to Batopilas 19 years ago to enjoy what she calls a more stress-free life. While the women waited for her to open her shop, the men found a cantina that had the Super Bowl on TV. Eventually, several of the women tired of shopping and joined the men, resulting in a crowd of a dozen or so of us. The cantina was in a lovely courtyard setting and the bartender was more than willing to cater to the gringos. In fact, he put his television on the bar and turned it so we could watch the game. Needless to say, a good time was had by all but, after a couple of hours, Cesar came to "fetch" us to go back to the hotel.

Once back at the hotel, we freshened up for the evening meal which would also include a Mexican band from the area. Cesar started the group out with shots of 100% agave and then the margaritas were served. The band started to play and the celebration began! There were two tables in the dining room. Our table, I must admit, was the rowdy one. We sang and danced and laughed and cheered. Cesar told us that the band only played about a half-hour for group 1. They played for three hours for our group and, believe me, they were tipped handsomely for it. They were really good and Jerry had a great time trying to get the bass player to smile. One of the funniest parts of the evening was when Rex asked the band if they knew "Spanish Eyes". Of course, they didn’t know it. It’s an American song. But we and our tablemates gave it our dead-level best to teach it to them (even though we only knew the words to the first and last lines – there were lots of la-la-la-la’s in the middle). But before the night was over, they had the tune downpat. It was a blast! Rex Brown and Penny Heatherington from Oregon, Nancy and Howard Findlay from Ontario, Dan and Carol Begy from New York & Florida, Don and Marleen Lawler from British Columbia and Bob and Netty Kaskell from Idaho were at our table. I think I speak for all of them when I say we had a night to remember! And dinner was excellent, too.

We loaded up on Monday morning to make the trek back to Creel. It was a rough ride, of course, but we made it in only six hours including a brief lunch stop where we had box lunches of barbecue (with avocado), chips, fruit and soda pops.

An interesting note: Both on the way down and back up, we encountered military men in humvees with loaded weapons. On the way down, we were waved on through but on our way back to Creel, we were stopped and searched. This did not make Cesar happy so he asked us to take photos and video of the vans being searched. He would send that information to the Department of Tourism to complain as there is evidently some agreement with the tour companies that their guests will not be "harassed".

When we arrived back at the campground, we found that there were young Mexican men that were washing RV’s so Jerry immediately tracked one down to arrange for a bath for Bubba. Unfortunately, as the day grew longer, we determined that they were not going to finish others before us in time to do ours so Jerry decided to wash Bubba himself. He wanted Bubba to be clean for his first train ride.

A final note for this segment – we were in the state of Chihuahua ten days before we saw our first (and only) live Chihuahua dog. That was Pedro in the town at the bottom of Botapilas Canyon mentioned above. But we did see hundreds of other kinds of dogs on the loose - dirty and underfed – but they were all friendly and we fed and petted lots of them along the way. There were also lots of dead dogs and cats along the roads. I guess neuter/spay programs haven’t made it to Mexico yet.

Tomorrow, we board the Chihuahua-Pacifico train for our 291-mile trip through the Copper Canyon. Until then - happy trails to you . . . til we meet again!