Tag Archives: chihuahua

Huatulco

Batopilas: A Silver Town in the Heart of the Sierra Madre

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By Jane Bauer

Tucked deep within the rugged canyons of the Sierra Madre Occidental in Chihuahua, the town of Batopilas boasts a rich mining history that once made it one of the wealthiest silver-producing centers in Mexico. Though now a quiet and picturesque village, Batopilas was once a thriving boomtown that attracted miners, adventurers, and fortune-seekers from around the world.

The indigenous Tarahumara people were aware of the region’s mineral wealth long before the arrival of the Spanish, but it was in 1632 that Spanish explorers officially discovered silver in Batopilas. By the 18th and 19th centuries, the town’s mines were producing vast quantities of high-grade silver, some of it so pure that it could be molded by hand.

The most famous chapter in Batopilas’ mining history began in 1880 when Alexander Shepherd, a former governor of Washington, D.C., acquired mining rights in the area. Shepherd, seeing the immense potential of Batopilas’ silver deposits, invested heavily in modernizing the industry. He built an extensive network of tunnels, processing facilities, and even a hydroelectric plant—the first in Mexico—allowing for increased production and efficiency. This innovation made Batopilas one of the first places in Mexico to have electricity, long before many larger cities, further cementing its status as an important industrial center. Under Shepherd’s management, the Batopilas Mining Company became one of the world’s top silver producers, extracting millions of ounces of silver and employing thousands of workers.

Despite its prosperity, Batopilas’ fortunes were not destined to last. The challenges of operating in such a remote and rugged region, combined with the volatility of silver prices and the turmoil of the Mexican Revolution, led to a decline in mining operations. By the mid-20th century, large-scale mining had ceased, and Batopilas slowly faded into obscurity.

I’ve only been to Batopilas once, almost 20 years ago, but it left a lasting impression on me. It felt like a ghost town, silent and almost surreal, yet I could sense that something extraordinary had happened there. Getting there was an adventure in itself—I took a public van from Creel, winding down these steep canyon roads, gripping my seat as we navigated hairpin turns with sheer drops on either side. It was hard to believe that this remote, sleepy village had once been a booming center of wealth and industry. Learning about its history later only deepened my fascination. I haven’t been back, but Batopilas has stayed with me, lingering in my mind like an unfinished story, calling me to return one day.

How to Get There
Batopilas is deep in the Copper Canyon region of Chihuahua, and getting there is no small feat. The most common route is from Creel, a town that serves as a hub for exploring the region. From Creel, travelers can take a shared van or a public bus for the approximately 5-6 hour journey down the dramatic mountain roads into the canyon. The road is steep, narrow, and thrilling—equal parts breathtaking and nerve-wracking. For those looking for a more scenic approach, the Chepe train runs to Creel, where you can arrange transport onward to Batopilas. The journey isn’t for the faint of heart, but if you love travel that feels like stepping into a different time, Batopilas is worth every twist and turn.

While large-scale mining is a thing of the past, Batopilas remains a testament to the power and impermanence of resource-driven economies. Its story is one of ambition, ingenuity, and resilience—a silver town that shone brightly and then faded, leaving behind a legacy etched in the canyons of the Sierra Madre.

Huatulco

Lorena Ramírez: Top Runner of the Rarámuri

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By Julie Etra

Who is this Lorena Ramírez? And why are she and her people such exceptional runners? To understand why Lorena and her family are so exceptional, we first need to understand who they are and where they come from.

Who Are the Rarámuri?
First, a little background. The Rarámuri, or Tarahumara as the Spanish called them, live in the Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon) in southwestern Chihuahua, a state in Northern Mexico; in 2017, there were about 120,000 Rarámuri.

The word rarámuri means “foot runners” in their language (rara = “foot,” muri = “to run”), which follows their ancient tradition of running “on winged feet.” Now mostly confined to the Copper Canyon, the Rarámuri had previously occupied much of Chihuahua, but sought refuge from the invading Spanish in the 16th century. The majority still practice a traditional mostly self-sufficient lifestyle, using little technology, cultivating traditional crops and many, like the Ramírez family, raising livestock. Their homes in the canyons can be pretty basic; some families live in caves or cliff overhangs. They also produce lovely basketry, for sale at major tourist destinations in Chihuahua like Divisadero and Creel.

When Rarámuri runners head off for ultra-distance runs, their choice of sustenance is not energy bars or electrolytes, but rather pinole (a maize-based powder used in a variety of recipes) and tortillas, and they don’t train for these events in any typical sense. Despite their storied fame as endurance runners, they have only recently gained attention on an international scale, competing against world-renowned runners.

As part of a traditional rarájipari event, which is largely spiritual, the male competitors kick a komakali, a baseball-sized wooden ball. The women may compete in a race called ariwete, using hooked sticks to flick a hoop as they run. Although the Rarámuri hunt with bow and arrow, and (rarely) firearms, anthropologists believe the tradition of running may have evolved from “persistence hunting,” with the prey – particularly deer and turkeys – pursued on foot until the animal collapses from exhaustion or heat stroke. Anthropologists have also concluded that running has both social and spiritual significance for the Rarámuri.

The Copper Canyon

The canyon actually consists of six distinct canyons – Urique, Sinforosa, Copper, Tararecua, Batopilas, and Oteros – within the Sierra Madre Occidental (literally, the western mother mountain range). Together, they cover 65,000 sq. km. (±25,000 sq. mi.), more than four times the surface area and almost twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the US state of Arizona. The average altitude is 2,275 meters (±7,465 ft) above sea level; the highest point, Cerro del Mohinora, is 3,306 meters (±10,845 ft.) and the lowest point, at the confluence of the Septentrion and Chínipas Rivers, is around 220 meters (±725 ft.). The average yearly rainfall is 38 cm (±15 inches). The topography is dramatic, with rocky outcrops and vertical, sheer slopes, and has been described as one of the most extreme landscapes in the world.

With the exception of the very bottom of the canyons the rocky formations resulted from explosive volcanic ash flows, ash falls, and mudflow breccias (sharp-angled rocks cemented together), all deposited approximately 20 to 40 million years ago and subsequently carved into canyons by the six rivers that drain from the western flank of the mountains, merging into the Rio Fuerte which flows into the Gulf of California in the state of Sinaloa. The Batopilas River flows through the bottom of the Batopilas (= place of the closed-in waters) Canyon; the small community of Batopilas was founded in 1708 when a large silver ore deposit was discovered by the Spanish explorer José de la Cruz. Although there is a reddish-copper hue in the geologic formations, the area was, and still is, mined primarily for silver and to a lesser extent, gold. Mexico is the largest silver-producing country in the world.

El Chepe

The Copper Canyon is remote, and access to the bottom of the canyon is poor; there are no paved roads and the few dirt roads are not well maintained. After many years of planning and construction, starting in 1861, interrupted by the Mexican Revolution (1910-21), and completed a century later in 1961, the Ferrocarril Chihuahua al Pacifico (Chihuahua-Pacific Railway) runs 650 km (±400 miles from Creel in the Canyon to the coast at Los Mochis. The train is called El Chepe (a contraction of Chihuahua al Pacifico), and crosses 37 bridges and travels through 86 tunnels.

The trip is particularly spectacular between Los Mochis and Divisadero. Vegetation is diverse due to the highly variable topography, with oak/pine/fir woodlands dominating at the higher elevations and herbaceous pastures in the riparian areas deep in the canyons, accompanied by subtropical vegetation. Species of agave and cactus dot the landscape in the rocky habitat. El Chepe recently added a new luxury train, mostly intended to accommodate tourists; it features a bar car with panoramic views.

María Lorena Ramírez Hernández

María Lorena Ramírez Hernández, better known as Lorena Ramírez, is a remarkable indigenous marathon runner who gained worldwide renown in 2017 after winning two gold medals in tough Mexican mountain races. One medal was for the UltraTrail Cerro Rojo in the state of Puebla (just over 50 km [±31 mi]), which she ran in 7 hours, 20 minutes, barefoot; the other gold medal was for the UltraMaratón de los Cañones, a brutal 100 km (±62 mi) in Guachochi, Chihuahua, near where she was born. Her time was 12:44:25. She had won the silver medal in the UltraMaratón in 2016, and went on to win a silver in the Ultramaratón Caballo Blanco, in Urique, Chihuahua, in 2018. In 2023, she placed first in the Ultratrail Sierra del Laurel in Calvillo, Aguascalientes, a distance of 42 km (±26 mi) in 5:58:17.

In June of 2017, on the heels of her two gold medals, Lorena became the first Rarámuri woman to compete in a European ultra. The Ultramaratón de Cajamar Tenerife, the “Bluetrail,” is the second-highest race in Europe and a distance of 102 km. (63 mi.). She placed third in 20:11:37.

A Family of Runners

The Ramírez family lives in Guachochi, an isolated valley with no neighbors in the bottom of the canyon. Lorena and her siblings Juanita, Talina, Mario, and Antonio walk five hours to the nearest school and four hours to the nearest grocery. Her brothers attended school while she and her sisters tended to the goats, the center of their pastoral life, while also cultivating corn, beans, squash, and greens among other crops on their farm. The family are for the most part self-sufficient. A perennial creek runs through their property, providing a clean source of water. The women of the family sew their own traditional dresses – Lorena dons a lighter version of the traditional skirt when she competes.

Lorena’s father, Santiago Ramírez, took her to compete in her first race of 7 km (4.3 mi) in the municipality of Cuauhtémoc, Chihuahua, which she won, having no idea of her capabilities at the time. Although she never dreamed of being a runner or marathoner, she was born into it. She comes from a family of runners, as they run everywhere around their rural property. Her father has won the Ultramaratón de los Cañones three times, the brutal 102-km cross country trail that gave her that second gold medal.

The Ramírez family members have won various races without the government’s help, commercial sponsorship, or professional training; they have achieved success due to their talent, perseverance, and lifestyle, which is very physical. To support travel to various events, they receive donations through their Facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/mario.ramirez.71066700.

When Lorena first started winning races, she and her family saw the prize money as a way to buy food. They have moved on – in 2019, when she was 22, she was profiled in the excellent 2019 Netflix documentary Lorena, Light-Footed Woman. The executive producer for this 30-minute documentary was the well-known Mexican actor, director, and producer Gael García Bernal (If you have never seen his breakout movie Y tu mamá también [2001], do so. Playa Cacaluta makes a cameo appearance). In 2019, Lorena was also the cover story in Vogue Mexico; in June 2022, she began marketing her brand of running outfits, called Lorena imparable (unstoppable Lorena).

Quiet and unassuming, Lorena says she does not think about anything when she runs, that it just feels good, and she stays focused on the objective of the race: getting to the finish line.

Upon receiving a gift of high-tech running shoes, she rewrapped them, placed the box back in the plastic bag and explained “I don’t think I will use them. The people who do are always running behind me.”

The next Ultramaratón de los Cañones will take place on July 5-7, 2024. Vamos a ver – We shall see.

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Mexico’s Northern Border c. 1890:Saints, Unrest, and Rebellions

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By Julie Etra

When you think about the Mexican Revolution, the larger-than-life characters typically come to mind: Emiliano Zapata in the south, Francisco (Pancho) Villa in the north. Before the Revolution, there was plenty of unrest and dissatisfaction with the centralized Mexican government led by José de la Cruz Díaz Mori. Near the border with the United States, pro-revolutionary, anti-Porfirio exiles living in El Paso and vicinity helped foment revolution through a variety of publications, also intended to gain support from the US Government. One of these Mexican expatriates was the inventive engineer and newspaper editor, Lauro Aguirre. (You can learn more about Aguirre in The Hummingbird’s Daughter, a wonderful book by Luis Alberto Urrea.)

The Rebellion of Tomóchic

After reading The Hummingbird’s Daughter, I became interested in the Rebellion of Tomóchic (1891-92) and the border unrest. This area, located in the state of Chihuahua, includes the Sierra Madre Occidental and the famous Copper Canyon (Barrancas de Cobre), home to the Tarahumara, or Rarámuri. It has always been geographically isolated, and essentially autonomous even after the Spanish conquest. Before the rebellion, the Tomochitecos resisted exploitation by the Spanish-descended hacienda owners (land barons) and mining companies. Constant unrest included land and property ownership conflicts as well as on-going threats by the Apache tribes from the north. Local skirmishes also resulted in violent conflicts with Mexican federal forces.

Around 1890, the community of Tomóchic became under increased scrutiny due to the rising fame of Teresita Urrea, the daughter of the Hummingbird (also the author’s great aunt), and the town’s adoption of her as their patron saint. Although she never set foot in the town, she was perceived as a Saint due to her purported healing abilities and posed an existential threat to the Porfirio regime solely due to her following, despite her claims to be apolitical.

The Catholic Church never had a strong presence in this remote region due to the lack of permanent priesthoods in isolated areas. This led to a vacuum of leadership and an atmosphere ripe for the cultivation of ‘saints’ to whom the locals attributed miracles due to their presumed direct communication with God and associated power. The only way for the Church to combat the dissemination of these alternatives to Catholicism was through the rare presence and ranting pontifications of priests in the Sierra Tarahumara. This situation became complicated since religious dissent was tied to notions of social justice and the “saints” provided guidance and comfort to the Tomochitecos suffering from exploitation and precarious socioeconomic conditions.

Since the early 1800s, the Porfiriato and the Church had both been trying to strengthen and centralize their control of remote regions. With the arrival of the railroad on the Chihuahuan border with the U.S., American exploitation of the area’s natural resources, particularly timber, took off. On December 1, 1891, Tomóchic staged an organized rebellion and declared its autonomy.

Although viewed by some historians as a precursor to the Revolution, other historians viewed the rebellion as a local affair, mestizos rebelling against their lighter-skinned, exploitative oppressors and the Church.

The story is told that the first time federal troops arrived in Tomóchic, they had talked themselves into a fright at the thought of facing the savage rebels. They were confused when they were met by a silent line of thirty women, all dressed in black, advancing slowly closer. The women dropped their black shawls, revealing themselves to be men, whipped out their Winchesters, and shot down the front line of troops. Nonetheless, after a year of confrontations with Porfirio’s troops, the rebellion ended with the annihilation of the entire town.

The Role of the Hummingbird’s Daughter

As noted above, the Tomochitecos were followers of Teresita Urrea, the Saint of Cabora. Before the uprising she had participated in other so-called insurgent movements, as defined by the federal government, that addressed social justice, particularly for the poor. She was demonized by an itinerant Catholic priest, offending the locals, and thereby planting the seeds of confrontation with the church. (Before the Mexican Revolution [1910-20] the church and the government were one state, intertwined and codependent.)

The true influence of la Santa de Cabora in the uprising has never been clear, as the entire town was destroyed during the conflict, along with most witnesses. Teresita Urrea and her father, perceived as a threat to the federal government, were exiled (or fled) to the United States. The Porfirio regime believed that if they had been executed in Mexico, it would have led to intolerable and counterproductive martyrdom. The Mexican Revolution had yet to be born, but this conflict undoubtedly fueled the flames of discontent.

If you are interested in reading more about the Rebellion of Tomóchic, check out these sources:

Frías, Heriberto. The Battle of Tomóchic: Memoirs of a Second Lieutenant, translated by Barbara Jamison. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2006. This is a historical novel by Frías, based on his experiences in the Rebellion of Tomóchic. The author sharply criticizes the actions of the federal government in crushing the Rebellion.
Urrea, Luis Alberto. The Hummingbird’s Daughter. New York, NY: Little, Brown and Company, 2005. Queen of America. New York, NY: Little, Brown and Company, 2011.
Vanderwood, Paul J. The Power of God against the Guns of Government: Religious Upheaval in Mexico at the Turn of the Nineteenth Century. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998. This is a broader (academic) view of the Mexican Revolution and how the Rebellion is a key precursor to it.

If you are interested in Mexican music, the corrido, or heroic ballad, achieved its high point during the Mexican Revolution; “El Corrido de Tomóchic” is considered the first revolutionary corrido.

Lamadrid, Enrique R. “El Corrido de Tomóchic: Honor, Grace, Gender, and Power in the First Ballad of the Mexican Revolution.” Journal of the Southwest, 41:4 (Winter 1999): 441-60.

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