Copper Canyon Diary (6 of 6)

Monday May 18th, 1998

Our last day here! Mike, Jan and I chose for our last hike a short but difficult ascent to the Penasquito Mine, an abandoned silver mine just above town. This mine made Alexander Shepard a very rich man, as is evidenced by the expansive remains of his huge hacienda and office on the banks of the Batopilas River across from the town itself.

Shepard died in 1906 of a ruptured appendix and his body was carried to Chihuahua City by relays of volunteer natives. According to the story told here, the coffin was never allowed to touch the ground the entire way.

He is still well thought of here, his name mentioned with respect and reverence. Although his men worked unbelievably hard and built for him an empire, Shepard must have treated them with some dignity. Many died in his employ, but he provided medical and hospital services for them and set up a system of wage payment that prevented them from spending all their wages on liquor, as the men were wont to do. The first half of their wage was paid in such a manner that it provided food and necessities to the family. The second half was given to the employee in such a manner that he could spend it at his discretion. Shepard is also known to have wiped out small pox in the area by forcing vaccination on the native and mestizo population. Guess he had some of the same problems with vaccination that the modern health departments here have!

Our intended guide did not show up, so another citizen was hastily conscripted. Timo, a “young” 55, is an energetic, fit, and loquacious Mexican who proved to be a delightful if demanding substitution. He set the pace immediately after leaving the lodge and continued his “running walk” straight up the face of the mountain behind the town. We were hard pressed to keep up, and in fact, did not! We made frequent stops to catch our breath and Timo would finally notice we had fallen behind and wait, somewhat impatiently, for us. He gleefully chided Mike about being too fat and having drunk too much beer, as they are the same age.

At one stop, Jan rested against a tree and Mike observed some bees coming and going from the trunk not more than 2 inches from her rear. When Mike innocently asked if those bees made honey, Timo’s voice acquired a distinct edge and he urged, “We must leave here, NOW”. He had to repeat himself, but only once after he made us understand that these were Africanized bees! We forgot pretty quickly about being so tired.

The mine itself remains much as it was abandoned. No OSHA here! It could not have been left like this in the States because some dumb tourist would have blundered in, died or been injured and sued the shit out of someone. Here it stands open, dark, full of open, gaping descents on the side of the main passage; steep enough to require a rope ladder and deep enough you could not hear a rolling rock hit bottom. We observed one shelf where a straying cow had fallen and could not climb out. It must have been a slow, terrifying death in the pitch black of the mine. Who knows what could have caused the cow to venture that deep into the mine in the first place.

We followed Timo until he said it was unsafe to continue, and I, for one was grateful to turn back. At this point the ceiling was a fissure above us with logs wedged across it to lend it stability. And just to our left the floor fell abruptly into another great fissure, also stabilized by wedged logs. Not a place to feel very secure!

The return trip to town followed the old burro trail that had been used when the mine was being actively worked and was a much easier descent than the ascent had been. Once back in town we made a stop at a store for Mike to purchase some cerillos, the tiny waxy stemmed matches here that Mike has developed a real fondness for. They cost a whopping peso per box!

That night just after dinner and before dusk, we traveled via Mexican limousine to Satevo, carrying with us a battery powered keyboard for Judy and Oscar to supply the vocals. We barely got candles and flashlights in place before night fell with thud that only occurs in places without any artificial light sources. A really dark dark, but one with few shadows and fewer threats – imagined or otherwise. This kind of ambient dark is close and comforting, providing an enfolding sense of privacy and security.

Sitting there on the rough wooden benches, individually cloistered by the night, mesmerized by the flicker of candlelight on the walls of the nave and entranced by the lovely tenor of Oscar’s voice, it was easy to fall back into a time of Indian sorcery conjoined with Catholic mysticism that provides the very soul of this ancient place.

The moment ended all too soon and we returned to our lodging where we introduced Oscar to the game of “Spades”, in which he whipped everyone’s asses and pronounced “I am learning!” as he raked in the books!

Our journey into the heart of Mexico was wonderful, and the lodging and amenities certainly provided a comfortable hardship if one is seeking that newest of travel offerings: the “soft adventure” trip which allows contact with the environment without most of its attendant discomforts. The Copper Canyon Lodges also offers a more adventurous outing in which one accompanies Skip, burros, tortilla ladies, chickens, and Indian guides in a trek through the canyon complex. Perhaps next year.

Read all six parts of Copper Canyon Diary
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six

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