A journey to the belly of the Earth finds a remark
There is a pullout on the side of the road. A place where a bulldozer has filled-in an area wide enough to park a car or small truck. But remember, if you get out of your vehicle to look at the view and maybe snap a couple photos, be sure to put your automobile in gear (or park if it has an automatic transmission), and don’t forget to set the emergency brake as hard as you can. Because if your car starts drifting forward, with no one steering, there will be no tomorrow – at least not for the runaway auto. On its way down the 5,500-foot mountainside, your metal steed will tumble onto, and bounce off of, more switchbacks and boulders than I have fingers and toes and ears and eyeballs. When it finally comes to a crashing halt at the bottom of the canyon its structure will resemble a well-chewed hunk of bubblegum.
Welcome to Batopilas
Yes, it is really that dangerous, because this mostly one-lane dirt road of switchbacks goes into the belly of the Earth. Down, down, down. But if you negotiate the road far enough, and don’t have a mishap, you will eventually arrive in Batopilas, one of the most unique towns in all of México.
My stay in Batopilas was different than that of the average tourist who ventures to the remote town, takes a quick look, and leaves. For this, I can thank Dr. Woodwick, the professor of an excruciating 5-unit zoology class in university.
As part of our classwork we were instructed to go out into the field, whatever field we could find – preferably without people – and observe every living thing while sitting in a single location for one hour. So, for sixty minutes my classmate and I sat in the central California foothills observing, with naked eye and with binoculars, all animal life. Bugs, birds, reptiles, mammals. Everything! And, of course, we had to write down what we saw.
It was a mind-expanding experience. There were ants, beetles, wasps, honeybees, houseflies, a tarantula hawk (flying insect), spiders, buzzards, raptors, sparrows, meadowlarks, lizards, squirrels, two mule deer, Hereford cows, and more that I can no longer remember. The point is that if we had walked through the same area, chatting with each other as we took in the sights, we would certainly seen the cows and a few squirrels and maybe a lizard or two. The deer would have vacated the area before we saw them. The insects we would not have noticed, and it is doubtful we would have noticed many birds. Returning to class we would have reported a miniscule amount of what was actually in the area. It is a lesson I never forgot. There is a tremendous difference between looking and seeing.
That is why I did a fair amount of sitting in Batopilas. I wanted to see more of the town and its citizenry than what is normally seen by tourists who rush in, snap photos, and depart. It is also why I spent nine days, from April 25th to May 4th.
Looking north at Batopilas
Nestled between canyon walls, the narrow town is strung out along the west side of the Río Batopilas (Batopilas River) for about 1,000 meters – a little more than half a mile. Towering shade trees, interspersed with skinny-trunked tassle-topped palm trees, provide coolness for much of the town. The main street, paralleling the river, is partly cobblestone, partly concrete, and sometimes a mixture of rocks and dirt. In the mornings and evenings the air is filled with the gentle calls of myriad whitewing doves hidden in the green-leafed shade trees. Occasionally, at any hour of the day or night, the braying of a lonely (or lovesick) burro ripples through town.
Unattended four, five, and six year old children safely wander around the plaza. Ten and twelve year old kids swim and frolic in the river. Fourteen and sixteen year old adolescents climb a 20-foot cliff, holding their noses as they jump into space en route to the river waters below. Laughter and cheerful taunts fill the riverside air with comfortable gaiety. Boys wear swim trunks or cutoffs. Girls wear baggy T-shirts over bras and shorts. Modesty is an unspoken, yet rigid, rule. Boys and men have more latitude in regards to showing their skin, but never are they indiscreet. At least not in public.
Before leaving California, I did some Batopilas homework. Historical homework. It was then that I learned of the Shepherd family and its contributions to Batopilas. Without this knowledge, I could not have appreciated what I was seeing. Yes, I could have sat and diligently observed everything possible, but I could not have seen the past. I could not have felt the past. And without knowing the past, the present is one-dimensional. It may be interesting, even exciting, but it is one-dimensional. Flat, without full flavor. Like two lovers kissing with their mouths closed.
Read all three parts of Into the Belly
Part One
Part Two
Part Three