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We awoke in Creel at 5:00 a.m. on Tuesday, February 6 to prepare for a 6:30 departure for La Junta where we would load onto the train. We had a 9:00 loading time and La Junta was at least 2½ hours away – perhaps more - as slowly as we normally traveled. If we have any complaint at all about this caravan experience, it is that we moved too slowly. It was only 67 miles to La Junta but it would take us 2½ hours to get there! Of course, we would be traveling through mountainous terrain that day so, granted, that would slow us down. We were told by those who had gone on other caravans that it is not always this slow. Perhaps it was because we were in Mexico and our Wagonmaster wanted to make sure that we all stayed together on the road. At any rate, we were scheduled for an early departure from the campground and there was much to be done to be ready on time. Jerry had decided that the motorhome and truck needed a bath to be pretty for the train pictures so he had spent a couple of hours Monday afternoon, after we returned from the bottom of the canyon, washing Bubba and Pearl. All was well until the temperature dropped to around 14 degrees that night which meant that on Tuesday morning, we couldn’t get our bay doors open, our tow bar was frozen and we couldn’t get the truck unlocked! Having to use our precious sweet water to unfreeze doors and locks was a bummer. But you gotta do what you gotta do, right?

We made the appointed departure time and arrived in La Junta at 9:10. We would spend the next five days on the train,"piggyback" style. That meant that each RV would be loaded onto a flatbed rail car where it would remain until we reached Los Mochis at the end of the trip. During those five days, we would not be able to open our slides, so Bubba would be a little cramped. We would have no access to additional fresh water so we would have to conserve the 100 gallons in our tank. We would have no way to drain our 42 gallon black tank, which holds our sewage, though we could drain our gray water (from the shower and sinks) off the train. There would be no propane or gasoline fill-ups along the way. We would be "roughing it", so to speak. But, hey, you’re talking to a girl who has carried her belongings in a backpack, dug cat holes and slept on the ground on gravel bars . . . even in the worst of situations, I can’t really call living in Bubba "roughing it".

The entire train would be occupied by our caravan and would be pulled by two 3,000 horsepower diesel-electric locomotives. We would spend the first night in the train yard at La Junta and the last night in the train yard at Los Mochis. On other nights, we would be side-railed in villages and enjoy evening meals and entertainment along the way. We were excited to be at this juncture in our Mexico journey.

Once we arrived in La Junta, we found that the railroad workers were not ready to start loading us. In preparation, they had divided the 24 rail cars needed for our caravan into three segments and backed each segment up to a loading ramp so, the most number of cars that we would have to drive across to load would be seven. Luckily, we were eighth in line for loading so we would be the last car on the first segment and would not have to cross over multiple cars to reach our assigned rail car. Whew! But before we could drive our rigs onto the train, the workers had to install side rails on the right side of each car. Then, they had to place temporary ramps between each rail car so the RVs could drive from the eighth car up to the first car of each segment. Let me tell you that watching Jerry drive Bubba across these makeshift ramps was scary! But everyone made it without a hitch. Once all the rigs were loaded onto their individual rail cars, the workers had to begin the process of chocking each wheel and securing each rig to the rail car using steel cables. It was an ordeal that would take four hours to finish readying our "homes" for five days on the train.

Loading, under the direction of Martine, our conductor, was finally completed around 1:00. Martine would be with us all the way to Los Mochis as would several uniformed guards, provided by the railroad. With our RVs loaded, several members of the group decided to check out the town of La Junta. We, along with Carl Lee and Cheryl Lane from California walked several blocks and decided to stop in and check out Café Rosey’s where we were scheduled to have dinner that night. Of course, we had to test their margaritas and it wasn’t long before we were joined by Penny Heatherington & Rex Brown (Oregon), Anita and John Campbell (Southern California), Jo and Tom King (Michigan), and Nancy and Howard Findlay (Ontario). After about an hour, we all decided that we needed to go back and rest up for our 5:30 dinner so the party dispersed.

We met back at Rosey’s for dinner but the early departure time this morning and the excitement of the train trip at hand had made us all tired. Jerry and I were safely tucked in our bed before 8:00. However, we awoke freezing in the middle of the night when the temperature dropped to 41 degrees in the coach and we realized that our power inverter had malfunctioned. We had lost all power – that meant our two "house" batteries were drained. Oops. It would be a long way to Los Mochis with no power! We lay awake the rest of the night fretting about what could be wrong. Well, by the next morning, Jerry the master-mind had figured it out. He had accidentally switched on the 11 luggage bay lights and they had burned all day and all night (at least until the batteries were depleted). So, duh . . . it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. All we had to do was to turn the generator on for about an hour and that, along with our three solar panels, would recharge the batteries and all would be good again. However, that wouldn’t fix the problem with our truck that we were towing. We (it was probably me) had turned the ignition key too far (we tow it in the "accessory" position) and the battery was dead in the truck, too! Aaaaagh! But, Tailgunner Dan came to the rescue with his battery booster and we were back in business. I bet we looked silly rolling down the railroad track with our truck motor running while the battery charged! We were hopeful that our snafus were over!

At 6:30 Wednesday morning, the railroad workers began connecting the three train segments and attaching the two locomotives. By 7:30, we were on our way. With a temperature of 35 degrees outside, virtually everyone stayed in their RVs, rather than being outside on their rail cars. But, it was cool inside the coach, too, as we needed to conserve our propane. But the view from Bubba’s front seat made up for it all!

The entire Copper Canyon complex occupies a large part of northwestern Mexico. In total, this area is nearly four times larger than the Grand Canyon. It took more than 60 million years of volcanic eruptions, erosion, and earthquakes to create this vast area of inter-connected canyons. It is not clear why this area was named the Copper Canyon, as there is no copper in the canyons, but it is believed that the name comes from the color of the canyon walls during picturesque sunsets.

The Ferrocarril Chihuahua al Pacifico Railway begins at the border town of Ojinaga, just across from Presidio, TX where we began our trip. However,the most scenic part of the trip through the Parque Natural Barranca del Cobre (Copper Canyon Natural Park) is the 291 miles from La Junta to Los Mochis. (Note that Mexico measures in kilometers but, for simplicity’s sake, I have converted to miles.) Engineers from around the world, citing the rugged terrain of this part of Mexico, claimed this line could not be built. In fact, the idea of building a rail line through this region was first conceived in 1872 by Alfred Owen, an idealistic American Socialist. Owen met with some initial success. Nearly 1,500 people came to join him in his utopian community at Topolobampo, southwest of Los Mochis, and in 1881 he got a concession from the Mexican government to build the railroad. Construction on the flat stretches near Chihuahua and Los Mochis went well, but the Sierra Madre mountains got in the way of Owen’s dream, aided by an outbreak of typhoid and growing disillusionment in his utopian community. In 1893, he abandoned the project.

In 1900, American railroad magnate and spiritualist Edward Arthur Stillwell tried to complete the task. One of Stillwell’s contractors on the west end was Poncho Villa, who ended up tearing down his own work during the Mexican revolution in order to impede the movement of government troops. The Mexican government then took up the project and, finally, after some 99 years and more than $100 million, the Chihuahua - Pacifico Railway was dedicated in 1961. It is an engineering marvel, to say the least. Laying rail, from sea level to an altitude of 8,056 feet, to conquer the Sierra Madres, required ingenious design. But the result of all this work is spectacular. In fact, this line has been called "the most dramatic train ride in the western hemisphere" crossing some 37 bridges and 86 tunnels through the mountains. We would travel through 84 of the 86 tunnels as the railroad followed its tortuous route from an elevation of more than 8,000 feet down to sea level. Today, many trains traverse the tracks including freight trains and passenger trains, as well as the 35 piggyback trains a year that transport RVs, like ours. It is important to note that the only way humans can travel through the Copper Canyon is on foot or by train.

As we traveled the rails from La Junta (mile 279.6) back to Creel (M 350.3), we passed through many ranches and farms. In this part of Mexico, men still use horses and mules to plow their land and work their ranches. Virtually everyone waved as we went by and entire families came out of their houses along the route to wave at the train with the rolling houses on it. I couldn’t help but wonder what they thought.

We made the first of three crossings of the Continental Divide today at an altitude of 8,000 feet. The nearby village of San Juanito is one of the largest villages on the railroad route and is the coldest town in Mexico. I believe it! We saw lots of burros along the way and it seemed that every family had chickens, goats, and pigs whether they lived in town or in the country. And, as everywhere in Mexico, there were lots and lots of stray dogs. There were women along the way washing their clothes in rivers and streams. They dry them by laying them on the rocks. We also saw lots of women washing in tubs in their yards and hanging their clothes on fences to dry. Interestingly, although we saw many rivers and streams, we saw no one fishing.

We passed through a couple of areas where there were logging operations going on. It appeared that they were using chainsaws to fell the trees, but all the dragging, stacking, and loading onto trucks was being done by hand with only the assistance of mules or horses.

We arrived in Creel early in the afternoon and were siderailed for the evening. The Indian women and children met us at the train offering their crafts for sale. We would see this at every stop along the way. Nearly every Tarahumara woman is a craftsperson. They weave woolen blankets of high quality. Their pottery, presently more functional than decorative, is firm and sturdy. Their pine needle baskets (from Apache Pine trees) are beautifully woven. And their embroidery is exceptional as they weave sashes and sew beautiful blouses. The women and their children can always be found near the railroad and around each town’s plaza, offering turistas their wares.

Having spent several days in Creel before boarding the train, there wasn’t much left for us to see but we walked into town with Cheryl and Carl for lunch at the Restaurant Molcaj. After lunch, Cheryl and I decided to walk around town a bit while the boys looked for an internet café. During our rounds, we found a beautiful Best Western that had wireless internet in the lobby which they graciously agreed we could use so we went back to the train to fetch our laptops. As we walked around Creel that afternoon, we could smell the wood smoke from the cooking fires throughout the village – a lovely smell that, even now, evokes warm feelings about this pretty little town.

We joined the rest of the group at 5:00 for an early dinner. By that time, we had decided that they were feeding us too well – we were tired of eating! And, I hate to admit it but, by 7:00 p.m., we were tucked in bed and fast asleep.

The train left Creel on Thursday, February 8 at 9:00 a.m. Luckily, our inverter was back on track and we awoke to a warm and toasty coach. Our electric blanket had worked all night long and we had enough battery-power left to make coffee and more. Life was good. There was frost on the pumpkin again that morning and, as we looked across town, we could see lots of smoke from the wood fires burning in homes throughout town. Today, we would say our final goodbyes to Creel as we moved on to new territory.

Soon after our departure, we began to climb our steepest grade so far and there was still much snow in the mountains. We crossed the Continental Divide for the second time. I want to note that there is much work being done on the railroad all along the way – all by hand. Individual railroad ties are dug out and replaced and spikes are driven by hand, obviously because there are many laborers who are willing to work for low wages.

At mile 361, we passed through Los Ojitos (Little Eyes). At 8,056 feet, it is the highest point on the railroad. About six miles past Los Ojitos, the railroad makes an incredible 360 degree loop where the railroad actually crosses over itself. This is said to be only one of three examples of this type of railway engineering in North America. At one point, the grade was so steep that the two engines had to dispense sand on the rails in front of their wheels in order to get enough traction to make the climb. I might mention that we were not thrilled when we saw three rail cars derailed between the towns of Creel and El Divisadero where we would spend our third night on the train. Luckily, they were hopper cars – not the kind that carry gringos in their RVs.

It was at El Divisadero, elevation 7,450 feet, that we got our first and only view of one of the barrancas from the rim. This village is positioned on a natural lookout point into the Urique Canyon, which at 6,136 feet, is the deepest of the six major canyons in the Copper Canyon. There are a couple of really nice hotels here and the view is spectacular. In fact, I am struck by the thought that a picture is worth a thousand words. If that is true, the Copper Canyon must be worth at least a thousand pictures. It is the most awesome sight I have ever seen.

We loaded onto vans and drove a short distance from the railroad to an overlook platform, complete with a section of glass floor. What an eerie feeling to look straight down through the glass! The canyons within the Barranca del Cobre are mostly forested while our Grand Canyon is desert-like. Here, it is much greener with lots of trees and vegetation below the rim. Also, unlike our Grand Canyon, the rivers at the bottom of the canyons are too rugged to be navigated by boat.

Far below the overlook, we could see a Tarahumara farm. Here on the rim, there are women and children selling their handcrafts. It is amazing that these women live deep in this canyon and walk up to three miles each day, climbing ladders to reach this overlook. In fact, Jerry and several of the other men in our group climbed down the Divisadero Escalaro (escalaro means ladder) to reach the trail below. Denise, our guide for the day and the same young woman who was with us in Creel, asked for volunteers to walk out on the "Balancing Rock" which extends over Urique Canyon. Of course, Jerry jumped at the chance to scare me half to death. But I am happy to report that he survived and chalked up yet another exciting experience.

We then visited the Hotel Mirador, one of the hotels where train passengers stay if they wish to stop for the night. It is a lovely spot where every room has a view of the canyon. Our next stop was at the Hotel Mansion Tarahumara El Castillo, one of the newer hotels built in 1993. The hotel had agreed to open some of their rooms for our group to shower if they wished. Several of the group, who had smaller freshwater tanks, chose to take advantage of their offer. Since Jerry and I had plenty of water onboard, we decided to take a hike to an overlook instead. The view was awesome and we could see the Hotel Mirador that we had visited earlier perched on the side of the mountain. While on the hike, we met a young German man who, along with his girlfriend, had been living in Mexico City for two years. He works as a graphic designer and his friend is a teacher. Before we began our hike back, we were joined by Al and Ardy Ness from Hot Springs Village, AR and Ken Klunder of Ontario. Al and Ardy moved to Hot Springs Village from Minnesota two years ago.

Once back at the hotel, we joined the rest of our group for margaritas (of course!). There was a big fire in the fireplace and a guitarist and we enjoyed another delightful group dinner together. This was, perhaps, our best meal yet, with chicken cordon bleu, mashed potatoes, steamed squash, refried beans, and cake. It was interesting to see how well our group had "bonded". Everyone was pretty amenable and you could always hear lots of laughter when we were together. We were sad that we would be losing Chris Mills, the youngest member of our party, today. In his late thirties, he had made the trip with his mom but would have to depart early tomorrow to fly home to Hartford, CT to return to work. He would take the bus to Chihuahua then fly home from there.

I want to mention, at this point, how nice the guards were on the train. They slept in the caboose during the day and walked the trains when we were siderailed at night to make sure there were no problems. They built campfires toward the back of the train to stay warm on cool nights. When we would walk back to the train after dinner in one of the villages, they would meet us and accompany us back to our rigs. They were very polite and friendly though none of them spoke English. Never once did we feel unsafe.

We were awakened Friday morning, February 9 at 6:30 by roosters – a common theme on this trip since we left Chihuahua. We hiked up to the rim to photograph the sunrise and, my, was it spectacular! We met Carl and Cheryl for a family style breakfast at the Hotel Divisadero Barrancas then returned to the motorhome to await our noon departure. Our next stop would be Bahuichivo (Bah’-wih-chee’-voh) (elevation 5,100) where we would spend our fourth night on the train. Along the route, we passed through San Rafael where the highway ends. We were really remote now! But the weather was warming – 66 degrees by mid-day and we were happy campers! We were hopeful that tomorrow morning would be frost-free, for a change. As the train moved slowly through the canyon, we were in constant awe of the scenery. It was incredibly breathtaking – something to behold.

By the time we reached Bahuichivo, we had decided that we would opt for a quiet evening. Our group was scheduled to visit another Tarahumara boarding school and Jesuit mission but we decided we’d rather stay behind. So, we joined Mary Ann Mills from Baja on the Lee/Lane rail car for happy hour. We then returned to our rig to grill the smoked pork chops we had bought from the Mennonites in Cuauhtemoc. We added mashed potatoes and purple hull peas from the freezer. Can you tell we’re missing Southern cooking?

The train departed Bahuichivo on Friday morning at what we call "dark thirty" – 6:00 – headed for Los Mochis. This would be our last and longest travel day on the train. This section promised the most spectacular scenery on the rail line as we dropped 5,100 feet in altitude in 156 miles. During one 12-mile section through the canyon, we went through 16 tunnels that totaled three miles in length. Four of the tunnels were at least 2,500 feet in length each with one tunnel exceeding a mile at 5,966 feet. This area is very rugged with no roads leading to it. We could only imagine what this area would look like in the rainy season of July and August – there must be waterfalls at every turn. And the hillsides were ablaze with what appeared to be redbud trees – it was spectacular.

During our trip, we had encountered a number of passenger trains but we were still glad that we had chosen the piggy-back option. Being able to enjoy this incredible scenery from the comfort of one’s own "home" was the best of all worlds. We noticed all along the trip that there were still many telegraph poles adjacent to the tracks. This was the primary method of communication during the early years of the railroad but the lines have since been abandoned as radios came into use. It would have made photography much better and easier if the poles and lines were removed. Perhaps I’ll write a letter to the government . . .

We traveled through a number of small villages built alongside the tracks on this segment and, without fail, entire families would come out of the houses to wave at us as we went by. They were even outside before 8:00 a.m.! Entire villages stopped what they were doing to wave at the train with the funny machines on it. I’m sure none of these people have ever been inside an RV. The houses in many of these villages appeared to have been built to house workers during construction of the railroad. The buildings have long been abandoned by the railroad and are in a state of disrepair but, in many cases, families have moved into them. Others are left as reminders of a bygone era. The cemeteries near the villages are most interesting. The monuments include small house or church-like buildings that are built over the graves and painted bright colors.

At mile 467, we entered tunnel #86, the longest on the railroad, at 5,966 feet. It seemed like forever before we saw a glimpse of light at the other end. It is amazing how dark the longer tunnels are. I had gone outside on the railcar to go through one of the earlier tunnels and I decided, in a hurry, that I wasn’t doing that again. It was so dark it was scary!

We continued to see more dogs in the villages along the way. We were told that they don’t really belong to any one family but are strays that are fed by whoever is fortunate enough to have leftover food and kind enough to give it to them. They are all thin and none are neutered. But they are all very sweet and appreciative of any small treat. Tarahumara dogs are an exception as they are very important to the Indian way of life. While the dogs tend to hunt for their own food, the family gives them what little they can, including goat’s milk. This creates a bond with the goats and the dogs will then protect them, as well as the children in the family.

About 9:45 a.m. Saturday morning, we left the state of Chihuahua behind and entered Sinaloa. It seemed strange, after 17 days, to be entering another state. The landscape gradually changed to desert and the temperature rose to 81 degrees, a far cry from the 39 degrees we saw at 6 a.m. this morning – ahhhhhhhh, warm weather at last!

Toward the end of our descent, the landscape began to level out and we saw more desert-like terrain then, ultimately, beautiful farmland. As we neared Los Mochis, we saw large fields of corn and mechanized equipment and irrigation, unlike what we’d seen before on the trip. We arrived at Los Mochis at 5:30 p.m. and were side-railed but had to wait for several hours before the railroad workers began the dismantling process that would be necessary before we could begin unloading the rail cars.

We were awakened early on Sunday morning, February 11 by the crowing of roosters, of course. There were children already in the train yard to watch the unloading process. Steve, our Wagonmaster, gathered us for an 8:00 travel briefing then we began the arduous task of driving the RV’s off the rail cars. It took about 3½ hours to complete the process but it didn’t seem quite as scary driving off as it did driving on.

As we drove through town, on our way to Guasave (Gwa-sah’-vay), we couldn’t help but notice how prosperous Los Mochis appeared. With a population of around 200,000, there were lots of stores with people milling around and many outdoor eating tents set up along the streets. We are told that these are Mexico’s version of fast food restaurants. There were banners on the streets that welcomed tourists (in English) and many people smiled and waved as we drove by. We continued to see large farms, mostly of corn and tomatoes. And, interestingly, on the outskirts of town, there were a number of people alongside the road who were selling 50-pound bags of potatoes. With Jerry’s love of spuds, he almost went nuts because we couldn’t pull over and buy a bag! Just outside town, a Mexican tuned into our CB radio and asked our Wagonmaster, in excellent English, where we’d been and where we were going. They conversed for several minutes before the local ended by saying, "Have a wonderful time and God bless everyone!"

The road to Guasave passes through a large agricultural area with several villages and lots of topes (speed bumps). There were children everywhere who ran out of their houses to see our caravan and to wave at us, with their mothers in tow. We were told that tourists used to throw candy to them but are now discouraged from doing so because of the possibility of accidents. But the children and their moms still come out and wave and yell at us – it’s as if seeing the caravan is a highlight of their day. They are beautiful children with big smiles and you only hope that our returned smiles and waves paint a positive image of Americans. In addition to the children, the passengers in every car wave as they meet us, female and male, young and old alike. Even truckloads of farm workers give us big smiles and waves. It is amazing.

As we turn onto Sinaloa road #2-10, we are overwhelmed with the trash on the sides of the road. It’s as if those who live along this road take their garbage across the street and leave it. It is everywhere – worse than anywhere else we’ve been, especially beer bottles/cans and those darned plastic bags you get from the grocery store and Wal-Mart. We have noticed a lot of trash alongside the roads in many of the villages but there are also signs along the roadways asking citizens not to litter. It seems as though the government is trying to send a message but they have a long way to go. Unfortunately, the litter reminded us of the problem we have with this issue in rural Arkansas and other southern states. In our travels, we have seen very little litter in states in the north and east but always litter in the south. Wonder how that happens? We need to learn their secret and so does Mexico. OK – I’ll get off my soapbox.

I forgot to mention how the public water is handled in Mexico. It seems that the government, in order to force conservation, only allows water to be pumped to the homes and businesses during certain hours during the day. And, while no one drinks the water, it is used to wash dishes and clothes and for showers so it took a little getting-used-to to acclimate to the schedule in different locations. No one drinks the public water in Mexico. Everyone drinks purified water (agua purificado – important words to remember in the restaurants). There are trucks everywhere selling 5-gallon plastic jugs of water for anywhere from 17 to 20 pesos (around $1.58 to $1.86 US) per container. We are told that it is not the water in Mexico that is bad, but the piping that contaminates it.