Contributing Writer
At the bottom of a steep canyon in the Sierra Madre range of Chihuahua State (the part called the Sierra Tarahumara after the indigenous tribe which inhabits the region), stretched along a river bank, lies the sleepy town of Batopilas, population 1,200.
One hundred and twenty years ago, over 8,000 people lived here, mining the rich veins of silver in the surrounding mountains, employed by Alexander “Boss” Shepherd. The town’s mining heritage started in 1632 when Spaniards first discovered silver. They found it lying in the riverbed, polished by the river’s stones and gleaming white as snow – which is why they originally called the mine “La Nevada” (Snowfall).
For almost 300 years, including the late nineteenth century when Shepherd restarted mining with new techniques, local mines yielded 300,000 ounces of silver, the highest total in all of Mexico.
Shepherd’s inventiveness and industry produced an aqueduct, still in existence, which supplied river water to a generator, making electricity for the town, the second place in Mexico after the capital to have this service. There was also a phone system. When Shepherd wanted a piano for his family, it was carried by teams of Tarahumaras 185 miles across the mountains. The story of those times is written in “The Silver Magnet” by Shepherd’s son, Grant Shepherd.
Finally, by 1913 Shepherd’s mine was exhausted. Boss had died in 1902. Mining operations moved upstream to a new site called La Bufa. Batopilas shrank in population, and settled into a torpor which is changing only slowly today. It is not just the lack of change, but the isolation at the bottom of a deep, narrow canyon and the stifling heat which lasts 7 months of the year which causes this time warp.
The years of prosperity, however, left a mark on the architecture of the town. Stately old buildings, many in disrepair, line the narrow, cobbled streets and give some indication of the wealth of former years.
Next to Batopilas church is a rambling hacienda, stretching one full block, Built in the late 1800’s during the Shepherd mining surge, it was the home of one of Batopilas’ merchants. Reduced to near ruins following the mine’s closure, the property was saved and restored in the 1990’s, by Michigan businessman and philanthropist Skip McWilliams (who also restored the Sierra Lodge near Creel). Named the Riverside Lodge, this magnificent world of color, whimsy and tradition reflects the glory days of Batopilas. It is now open as a hotel.
Visitors enter the Riverside Lodge through a series of courtyards which extend on different levels throughout the property, connected by staircases and through Moorish arches, planted with kumquat and avocado trees, and festooned by bougainvillea. Public rooms include a chapel, library, dining area and a Victorian parlor with reproduction Rembrandts and Rubens, an upright piano, a ceiling mural, a red velvet couch, and an enormous chandelier.
The bedrooms have antique beds, with private bathrooms, some with clawfoot tubs, all elaborately decorated. At breakfast in the courtyard, Gregorian chants or Pachelbel’s Canon emanate from tapes playing in the parlor. Normally, the lodge is quiet, insulated from the town’s noise by thick walls. An occasional dog’s bark or the voices of children in the nearby school are all that are heard.
In the town itself, life is generally quiet except at times of
religious or national festivals. Parked pickups with flat tires
alternate with sleeping dogs. An occasional car negotiates the one-way
street. Tarahumara men regularly come down from their homes on the
sierra to buy provisions; otherwise they are little seen. During the
cooler months (October – April) a bus or Suburban from Creel delivers
dazed or excited visitors each day except Sunday to the plaza. The
local folk pay little attention to visitors but are polite and helpful
when asked a question. A variety of hotels ($10 - $80) and a small but
adequate selection of restaurants cater to visitors.
Getting to Batopilas
• Slowest way. Cross-canyon hike from Urique. A popular hike requiring 2 nights, 3 days. A guide is needed. For further information: info@ccconexions.com.
• Quickest. Fly with Captain Jose in his 5-passenger Cessna. Price per person (one-way) for this dramatic flight, (min. 4 persons): $250. See ccconexions above.
• Cheapest. By public bus from Creel. 7:30 a.m.Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday or by Suburban on other days. No service on Sunday.
• Own vehicle. High clearance is strongly advised, and for some, strong nerves. The big disadvantage is that you don’t have much time to enjoy the views.
• Best. A small group of interesting people, a first class guide,
some pampering as well as some exercise, one or two surprises. Read on…
In March I visited Sierra Lodge, Creel and Riverside Lodge, Batopilas
with a group of 11 Texans – professional people, average age 64. The
question for a tour organizer is: how will the group members interact?
The second question is, (since this is a first-time tour): will the
travel arrangements be adequate?
The first day was a busy one. The bus ride from Ojinaga to Chihuahua, the city tour, evening meal and overnight at the Palacio del Sol Hotel, all went off fine.
The next morning, sitting in the Copper Canyon train (or “El Chepe,” for Chihuahu-Pacific railroad) and enjoying a breakfast of huevos rancheros while watching the passing scenery was when satisfaction really kicked in. By mid-morning the train crossed the Continental Divide at just over 8,000 feet and arrived on-time in Creel where a van was waiting to take us to our next accommodation in pine woods near a Tarahumara village.
Forty minutes later we were enjoying a light lunch in the rustic but comfortable log cabin called Sierra Lodge. A tin roof and no electricity can be offputting for some people, but not this group. An afternoon hike to a waterfall (“The hike to Hell” as it was called by the well-dressed group member who nevertheless gamely completed the 4-mile hike) was followed by the trademark margaritas, and a 3-course Mexican dinner. After dinner, our guide Ivan turned up, and introduced himself.
For 4 days this well-informed and engaging guide, a Mexican Indiana Jones, was our companion and informant and, sartorially, our envy.
The following morning, we packed into a van, and started the 7-hour, 6,000 foot descent to Batopilas. Ivan wanted us to get an idea of canyon land, so we made several stops en route, getting out and walking at times, and enjoying a stir fry hot lunch with wine on a ridge top among pine tress, sitting comfortably at a table.
The question of a restroom came up. “I prefer bushes,” said Ivan firmly. This statement (from a man wearing a Panama hat, with a knotted cravat at his neck, leather hiking boots and shorts) stopped all discussion of the matter.
The steep incline and slow progress made the after-dark arrival in Batopilas even more welcome. Once the group members had found their various rooms scattered through the building, and were sitting in the cool courtyard with a drink, the serenity of the Riverside Lodge worked it spell and everyone could relax. “Thank you so much for bringing us here,” said one to me.
Two days of activity with rest periods followed. A hike to “The Lost Cathedral,” 4 miles along the riverbank, took up part of the first day. This cathedral-size, triple dome church dates from the seventeenth century. Ivan supplied the historical details, explaining how this remote region was linked by the Camino Real to colonial Mexico.
We ate well and simply at local restaurants, talked with a German artist as well as Skip McWilliams’ sister who runs as jewelry shop in town. On the second day, a picnic (again the wine and cloth napkins) was organized up-river with a chance for river swimming and a hike back along the aqueduct.
On the last evening in Batopilas, the group returned to the Riverside Lodge after dinner ready for an early night. Instead, a mariachi group appeared, marching through an archway. Tequila was tasted, toasts were made, group individuals got up to sing with the mariachis.
Sitting in the aromatic courtyard in the warm darkness, lulled by liquor and music, the effort to get to this small corner of Chihuahua seemed worthwhile. The group had gelled, the travel arrangements were fine.
Useful websites for more information and contacts:
www.chepe.com.mx
Jim Glendinning was raised in rural
southern Scotland and has worked a variety of jobs in the USA and
Britain: restaurant owner, tour manager, transatlantic charter flight
operator, tea-room owner, tour guide, and director of a national
student travel company. Between jobs he travels frequently, having been
to 120 countries so far. Glendinning has lived in Alpine since 1991 and
writes regularly for local papers, updates his guide book and takes
tour groups to Chihuahua’s Copper Canyon.
Riverside Lodge’s parlor. (Photo by Jim Glendinning)
Riverside Lodge (Photo by Jim Glendinning)
