Brian A. Hopkins
Adventure Bumpkin

Bahlobo y los Gringos:
"South of the Border"
(Copper Canyon, Mexico) 13 - 22 April 2007

BATOPILAS: Because getting to Batopilas is nearly a full day's ride in itself, we made plans to overnight there at the Hotel Margarita's, owned by the same people who own the hotel where we were staying in Creel (hence the similarity in name). The hotel is a beautiful hacienda situated on the side of the canyon, overlooking the Batopilas River. Though it's only been there 6 or 7 years, it looks as if it's been there for a century or more.

The Hotel Margarita's in Batopilas ... and the infamous Stairs from Hell. These stairs have been
featured in many an Adventure Rider report because the only secure parking is up there behind the
iron gate in the courtyard. The stairs are a lot steeper than they look, and as you can tell, they run
on for quite some time -- maybe 30 steps? On a short flight of steep steps, you can get all out of
shape and recover ... but when the stairs go on and on? The guys took one look and declared that
anyone with a lick of common sense would push his motorcycle up. I said "Screw that!" because I
had seen plenty of ride reports where other riders had ridden to the top. Surely we could do the
same? What are we, men or mice? I didn't want to have to write this report and not be able to at
least say that we had tried. Ah, foolish pride ... when will I ever learn?

Top of the stairs, from inside the courtyard.

Flowers everywhere ... detailed stonework ... stained glass windows.

Close-up of one of the windows.

Can you smell it?

Flowers bloom readily in the tropical environment at the bottom
of the canyons. One of the neatest things about the Copper Canyon
area is the variation in climates, from the hot desert of Chihuahua to
the chilly pine forests on the canyon's rim to the lush tropical
environment at the bottom.

Old Spanish architecture, stone and adobe.

Eleven rooms total, each one unique. This is the door to the room
I shared with Daniel. Look at those frilly bedspreads!

Much too nice for us grubby Adventure Riders!

A peek into our bathroom and its intricate tilework.

The bathroom in the room Rich and Chris shared; hand-worked tile everywhere, including the
entire bathtub. (Photo courtesy of Chris Marlow.)

Dining room where we were served an excellent dinner and breakfast.

View looking back from down the street.

We were welcomed by the caretakers, Arturo and his wife. The guys were all tuckered out
(it had been a long hard ride from Creel to Batopilas) and content with the beer Arturo provided,
but I wanted to explore. I actually wanted to make the ride up the stairs while I still had my dander
up, but everybody else thought I was nuts. I knew if I had too much time to think about it, if I was
off the bike for too long, I might not have the stones to do it later. (Photo courtesy of Rich Desmond.)

Danny, too pooped to accompany me on my explorations or
cheer me on in a conquest of the stairs. (Photo courtesy of
Rich Desmond.)

"See you later, you crazy bahlobo dude..."

I found this lovely shrine just down the road across from
an unfinished hotel.

I found two old mines, one on each side of the hotel. Both had
warning signs plastered all over them: "Stay out, Gringo
Estupido! Muy peligrosa!" One of the mines was wide open
and stank like old piss. The other had a cast iron gate, but there
was no lock on the gate. It didn't stink, so I explored it.

Because I hadn't brought a flashlight and it was pitch black inside,
I only went about 50 feet within. Here's the view looking back
toward the entrance. See ... getting dark! (Insert Twilight Zone
music here) What if I were to get lost? Fall in a hole? Hear that
gate slam shut and a lock being driven home, followed by chilling
laughter, "Ha! Another gringo has fallen into our trap!"

Same shot using the camera's flash.

I worked my way down to the river next and poked around its banks. Here's a shot of the
unfinished hotel. I'm not sure why the building was never completed. Looks like it would
have been really nice.

And here's a view of our hotel from the river.

Pretty flowers were in bloom on the river banks.

Smell them?

Way off in the distance, I saw an Indian bathing in the water. It was too far away to tell if it was a
male or female. I thought the bather was naked, so I snapped a photo because the joke with the
guys was that I wasn't coming back for them when I found where all the lovely native women would
be bathing naked in the river. I shot this photo with my 12X camera at full zoom, resting the camera
on a rock. After taking the photo, I still couldn't tell on the camera's LCD viewscreen whether it
was a man, woman, clothed or naked. As you can see, it's clearly a man and he's not naked. Still,
at the time, I was certain I'd discovered the Indians doing what comes natural on such a hot day.
The water looked so cool and inviting. I figured if it was good enough for the Tarahumara, then ...

...it was good enough for me. I stripped out of my hot riding gear and plunged
into the water. I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt! I kept a colorful rock
from the river bottom to help remember my swim. How many gringos can say
they've swam naked in the Batopilas River of Copper Canyon, Mexico?

My only audience was a pair of donkeys who didn't seem at all disturbed by a naked gringo.

A while later, Danny got the bug to be the first one to ride up the
stairs and made the attempt before I could head him off -- trying
to steal my thunder! (Photo courtesy of Rich Desmond.)

This is how far he made it before stalling the bike, sliding back down four or five steps, and falling
over. Damage: lefthand mirror snapped off at the base. Ouch! We then proceeded to do the sensible
thing: we pushed his bike to the top. (Photo courtesy of Rich Desmond.)

Then, to add insult to injury, his bike simply fell over in the courtyard! Nobody was anywhere
near it when it suddenly went CRASH!

I told Danny, "Dammit, you've robbed me of my mojo now! Now that I've seen you fail, doubt
has come on strong..." I tried anyway, but the writing was on the wall, wasn't it? Still, I nearly
made it to the top before losing control of my steering and very nearly going over the outer wall,
which would have dropped me about 25 feet to the roadway. I slammed on the brakes, thereby
stalling the bike, but I managed to hold it up, even though I slid back down 3 or 4 steps. The guys
came to my rescue and we pushed the heavy BMW the rest of the way up the stairs. Whew!

Now you would think by this time that the other two would bail, but peer pressure is an ugly
thing. Honestly, though, I thought the DR-Z boys would sail right up on their lighter bikes. This is
how far Chris made it before also losing the front end -- it's really hard to steer when it's in the air
like that, ya know? -- and slamming over into the wall to his left. He shredded his t-shirt and
scraped up his back and the back of his hand against the wall ... and, you guessed it,
snapped off his lefthand mirror.

We pushed his bike up. We all then looked to Rich ... who promptly said,
"Give me a hand here, guys," and pushed his bike to the top of the stairs and
the safety of the courtyard. Smart man! Funniest thing was Arturo, who was
certain one of us was going to get killed. "No more arriba!" he kept saying. You
can see Arturo (in the gray slacks) helping to push Chris's DR-Z.

Chris's injuries -- the only injuries sustained on the whole trip. (Unless you
count the fact that Gaby broke my heart. ::sniff::)

After all that fun on the stairs, I told the guys about my adventure
in the mine. Rich wanted to go explore. Danny went with us ...
reluctantly. (Add deep, dark places in the Earth to his list of
fears.) Chris wanted a shower and a nap. Rich donned his goofy
headlamp (from our Moab trip) and led the way. We found
enough intersections that we were wishing we had some chalk
along to mark the walls (like the Hardy Boys woulda done!),
a huge section where the ceiling had collapsed in a big pile
of gypsum crystal (I nabbed a really nice piece as a souvenir),
a subterranean pool, and...

...this nasty scorpion. Scary thing is that Danny was bringing up the rear and dragging way
behind. He didn't have a light. I told him to just trail his hand on the wall of the mine as a reference
and keep following. But who would have expected to find this badass hanging on the wall
just a hundred yards or so beyond the entrance? We went far enough to totally lose the
light, killing our flashlights for the ultimate scary moment typically featured in every cave tour.
Eventually, the mine got a bit too wet and a bit too sketchy, so we retraced our steps back
out, relieved that no one had closed and locked the gate behind us.

The boys sipping Tecate after dinner.

Night fell with just a thumbnail of moon as witness ... and one planet ... which, of course,
prompted all the requisite jokes about Uranus. Later the blanket of night came alive with all
the millions of stars you're fortunate enough to see without the interference of city lights.

It was a beautiful, peaceful night in an incredibly romantic location....

...in a gorgeous and remote part of the world ... but I still didn't rub Danny's feet for him. He
consoled himself by humping his pillow all night. Poor guy, we didn't have cell phone service here,
so he couldn't even call the wife for phone sex like he'd done every night in Creel.

In the morning, we had breakfast, settled our bill, and then it was time to get the
bikes back downstairs. It just so happened that my bike was situated such that it
would be the first one down. I tackled the stairs with no trepidation -- How hard
could it be to ride DOWN the stairs? --  and promptly had the front slip out from
under me. I don't know what happened. The stairs, like everything else, are coated
in fine powdery dust and rather slippery, but really the best explanation for the crash: I'm
an idiot. I fell over against the wall and ... you guessed it ... snapped off a mirror. The
other three all walked their bikes down the stairs then. Final score: Batopilas Stairs
from Hell, 3 victories and 1 draw; Badass Adventure Riders, ZIP. How embarrassing!

We then made our way through the town of Batopilas (watching out for the usual road hazards)
on our ultimately fruitless quest to find Urique, as I've documented in the offroad section of this
report. (Photo courtesy of Rich Desmond.)

Our route took us over that bridge you see in the distance and up into the mountains .... before
we ultimately admitted defeat and retraced our steps. (Photo courtesy of Rich Desmond.)

Click the Dancing Sombrero to Continue the Adventure