Cubarathon – Day 6

Mileage for the day : 10 miles
Total mileage : 61 miles

I'm sitting in my room, naked, feeling the fresh sea breeze coming from the open window and grinning from ear to ear. I wasn't even supposed to run today...

I met this guy, Martin, this morning, lounging by the pool. Super nice dude. He's a retired professor and a trumpet player, and he used to be runner, he told me. “You weren't a runner; you * are * a runner”, I replied. “You should see your face light up when you talk about it!”

We had a long conversation about health, being active, enjoying life and the awesome feeling of being outside, moving on your own, being free. He told me how he regretted having stopped being active and becoming a heavier guy, and said he'd like to start being active and feeling good again.

So I told him a little bit about my journey, as well as the adventures of some other inspiring friends like Dan, Catra, Sweeney and Jack, who took big decisions about their lives and reaped huge rewards. I told him how little it took to see great improvement, and I told him about how things should always feel fun, liberating and exhilarating.

The more we talked, the more he made me feel like going for a run. We parted ways about lunch time so I could go take a nap, and I came back by the pool a little later, dressed up for running, just to see if he was around. I would've loved to take him out on his very first run, but he was nowhere to be found.

So I took off on my own, with the plan of really jogging a slow shuffle to the beach's end and back, just enjoying the view and soaking my last sun rays. The tide was at the highest I'd seen it, which made the first part particularly slanted. Tons of crushed little seashells had washed on the sand, too, and made pathfinding a little more finicky. 

After a little while, however, it seemed the high waters had leveled things a little better and I found myself running on pretty decent, harder-packed stretches. I naturally sped up a little and broke into a pretty decent pace. I thought I'd just keep it for as long as it felt good, but the miles started piling and I felt better and better, so I just kept smiling and took advantage of this sudden burst of energy, pretty convinced it would fade away soon.

I reached the end of the beach faster than I expected, and I decided to not take a break at all and turn around, see if the wind at my back would lift me up a little bit and help me keep going. Pretty soon, I was running much faster than I was on my way out. To hell with it, I thought; if I crash later on, I have a gel or two in my pack, so why not? Let the five-year-old out!

Instead of speeding even faster, I just picked a good clip and tried to stay with it for the rest of the run. I'd say I was close to the effort of running a faster 10k, but on sand, splashing through some incoming waves every once in a while. I was facing the setting sun and the wind was at my back, which made for a dreamy running setup. It felt awesome to be out.

Soon enough, I reached the half-way point and my energy was still high. I started smirking at the idea of making Dan's GPS say I ran a record again, even if I realized how childish this was. It just made me smile and motivated to keep going. I think I even sped up a little, for good measure.

I really realized I was going pretty fast when I saw another runner on the horizon, who seemed to have a similar running pace as my usual. I caught up and swooshed by like it was no one's business, feeling strong and hungry for more. At this point, I know the beach pretty well and I counted the coves to my finishing point, so I had a precise idea of the distance left and the effort I could put.

I finished going pretty much all out for a solid 2k, not sprinting but pushing it as hard as I could. I reached my end of the beach knowing I could've gone a solid extra 3 or 4 at the same pace and I felt like a tiger. I ran the asphalt street all the way to the hotel and finally pushed the stop button on the Garmin.

“New 5K record”, it first beeped.

“New 10K record”, it then said.

“New speed record, 1h35”, it finally announced.

I'm really super proud. Not only am I not broken anymore, but I can run long, and back-to-back, and gain speed, and sustain it for several miles, and still yearn for more.

I'll take that any day :)

This week has been a great success. I feel great, refreshed, strong and positive. This is exactly what I'd dreamed of, coming here. I couldn't have wished for a better way to end 2015, running strong through a shiny, new, fresh, inspiring year.

This is going to be awesome.

Funny. When I left Martin, earlier, he said “Hey. Thanks for the inspiration”. I immediately replied “No, man, thank *you * for the inspiration!” and walked away. I hope one day he reads this, maybe after one of his runs, and understands this thing goes both ways. Happy journey, man!

Cubarathon – Day 5

Mileage for the day : 20 miles
Total mileage : 51

Believe it or not, I actually set an alarm for this morning. I didn't want to miss the early daylight on the beach, and the couple hours of running I could get before the sun starts beating down. I ate a Clif Bar, drank a little water, filled my bladder with a mix of water and guava juice and headed straight for the beach.

I was just starting out my run, thinking about my friend Sweeney who gets to do this most everyday and how I could get used to that lifestyle pretty easily, when I was pulled out of my thoughts by a gorgeous young woman sunbathing in the early rays, topless. I grinned wide and kept going.

I made a quick calculation that a double out-and-back would give me more than 20 miles, which would be pretty good. The beach was quiet on my way out, and the little rolling waves at my feet made time fly by pretty quickly. I ran out of beach faster than expected, thinking I was coming around to another cove. The sand ends on very jaggy rock that reminds me of lava flows, but most of the rocks were covered by sand, which I guess is an effect of the rising tide. The water was receding now, so I was pretty cautious picking my way through. This was getting me nowhere anyway, so I gave a quick look at the Garmin before turning back. 7.5K.

The beach was getting more and more crowded by the minute, but I didn't mind. Some fishermen were walking down to the water to throw their nets and hopefully catch some fish, and I really wondered how they pick a spot when everything looks so much the same to me. Is this a random thing, or is there more to it?

I crossed paths with several other runners, too, and noticed how each and everyone of them was smiling wide. Running happy. Gotta like that :)

About half way back, my legs started feeling a little weird. As I've said before, that beach is way more slanted that I'd hoped for, so I'm basically running at an angle I guessed to be about 20 to 30 degrees at some points. I probably compensate that slope in many ways, and I expected this to quickly become an issue. But so far, so good. However, the way my legs felt at that point was slightly different and I started becoming weary that my knees or my hips would get injured.

So I made a decision. I'll finish this first 15K, go get some breakfast and rest, then make this day a “twofer”; I'll wait for the late afternoon sun and head back out for another run before dinner. 

And I did :) I had a nice nap by the pool, after seeing three amazing girls dance some traditional Flamenco. I don't think there's anything sexier than this affirming, racy, woman-centric dance, with its fantastic flair and rhythmic music. I absolutely loved it.

I can't say I was super eager to go out again, the sun being still pretty strong, but the prospect of scoring a 20-mile day was appealing, for many reasons. First of all, it's a decent distance; but it's also a personal record for a barefoot run, which I find pretty exciting. I haven't run barefoot so much last fall after all, but my feet are holding up surprisingly well and my legs, in all honesty, feel awesome.

I took off slowly and built to a nice trot. I got a little worried again because of the slant, but everything felt pretty good and it felt like I reached the end of that beach in a pretty good time. I wasn't tired much, so I took a couple sips out of my vest and started my return. With a gusty wind to my back, I found myself picking up some speed... and enjoying it. I sustained it for a good distance, too, so everything went as well as I could possibly hope for.

The last half mile, I felt the burn under both my big toes and got worried that I might have blisters, but it turned out to only be hot spots. When I got back to the hotel, Dan's Garmin clamored “You've made a new distance record!”, then “You've run your fastest 10K!”. I'm thus writing this pretty tired, and pretty proud :)

Now all I want... is FOOD!

Cubarathon - Day 4

Miles for the day : 0

Total miles : 31

I woke up today feeling a little sore for the first time. Is it the amazingly crappy mattress, the higher mileage, the noisy nights, the less-than-optimal food? It doesn't matter. I'm on vacation after all, so screw it. Let's have a zero day!

It's often like this when I travel south during wintertime. The first few days are super exciting, I bounce all over in the unbridled happiness of being under the sun again. Then, a couple days go by and my body gets a little bit of a backlash. After all, I've been spending months in low light, freezing temperatures and 9-to-5 life. Jumping right out of it is exhilarating, but I also need to take things in stride if I don't want to overdo it and end up with a bad sunburn, an injury or a mix of both.

So I simply went downstairs and found a comfy lounger by the poolside, soaking in the early morning rays then switching to the shade of a bunch of palm trees under which funny little lizards with spiral tails play around. I spent several hours finishing an amazing book I started last summer; it traces back the steps of the first real explorers of North America; my French-Canadian ancestors. It's a very little-known fact, but my great grand-dads were pretty badass. Upon their arrival in their boats, many of them figured out their European ways would not cut it in this wilderness and headed straight for the bush, where they met and shared their life with the Natives Peoples of the area. Most of them never returned to “settled” life and preferred traveling around wih their brothers and sisters, learning the ways of hunting, gathering, pathfinding and long-distance travelling with the best of the best.

These people (they were mostly men, but there were women, too) were quickly judged and called the “ensavaged ones”. Most were dissed and History wasn't kind to them. They were often only referred to as “boys” or “mountainmen” by other travelers like Lewis and Clark (Surprise! A good portion of their crew were French Canadians) and the other stars of the great American expeditions. But the truth is, it was French-Canadians, accompanied by their new families (mostly natives, but also some freed or runaway slaves and the Metis of the Canadian Prairies as well) who were the first non-natives to see and travel the bulk of North America.

Reconnecting with this part of History made me realize that I am not as estranged as I think about my own culture; I am simply kindred with the ones “the civilized world” overlooked and dismissed, even though they were the true backbone of the early days of the white man in this new continent.

Important sidenote; I learned that the very vast majority of the Ensavaged Ones were welcomed with open arms by our Native brothers and sisters, who were impressed with their openness and honored by the respect and interest these wild men showed them. My ancestors lived by the hundreds (if not thousands) peacefully with many different tribes, embracing their way of life and thriving with them, often refusing to go anywhere without their clan, much less settle back into the white villages that were developing everywhere. They relentlessly defended the rights of the First Nations, often to their great disadvantage, and they married and had families inside their clan which also brought a lot of judgement and racism upon them. But they didn't care. They had discovered an amazing, wild, challenging way of life that respected Nature and brought them exaltation and many adventures. I'm extremely proud of how they approached their new life, acknowledging and respecting the First Nations and blending with them completely, as equals, as should be. If History had given the Ensavaged Ones the role they deserved, we would live in a much different world today.

My book left me yearning for more and motivated me to keep reading about these brave men and women who ended up merely a sidenote of North American history. It helped me understand that I, as an apple, have finally ended up not falling so far from the tree. I share the values, curiosity, sense of kinship and taste for adventure of the Ensavaged Ones. If I had lived in that era, I would've done the exact same thing as they have.

I daydreamed the rest of my afternoon, imagining the crazy untold adventures of Étienne Brûlé, Guillaume Couture, John McLaughlin, Louis Jolliet, Jean-Baptiste Charbonneau and all the others. I got plenty of rest, ate three good meals and enjoyed the gorgeous Cuban weather.

Before long, I started to feel the urge of going for a run again. I love this feeling; it means my body wants it as much as my spirit. I'm rested, I'm happy and I'm ready for more.

Cubarathon – Day 2

Miles for the day : 6
Total miles : 18

Remember yesterday, when I stopped to re-fit my sandals and tape up my toes? Turns out I left my roll of Band-Aid tape somewhere on that bench! That stuff is the only tape I know that stretches, has a soft padded material and stays on even if you sweat, so I was really bummed when I flipped my vest upside down and inside out and couldn't find the brand new roll I'd brought.

So instead of running the beach today, I put my shoes on (no tape, no sandals) and headed back the same way I headed yesterday. Funny how distance seems so much smaller when you run a route for the second time. In what felt like minutes, I was there, at the little public park with benches, looking all around. No luck. No tape. It's just gone. Ah, well.

Since I was already out and wearing shoes, I figured I'd make this run a little road adventure. The street my hotel's on has several nice shaded sidewalk stretches, so the mid-day sun wasn't too brutal. I'm already doing better in the humid heat, too, which means I can breathe well and not feel smothered by the damp sea air.

I probably picked up some speed, because I started to feel really, really hot soon after. Dodging fat tourists around the sidewalks felt like a game, and I guess I was imagining myself a super nimble parkour runner or a ninja. I decided to take a break under a big tree, drink some water and chill for a couple minutes.

Almost immediately after resuming my run, I ended up at the same crossroad joining the autopista. I really didn't feel like running along that thing again, so I veered right and aimed for the first street that would take me back to the village. I crossed a pretty little fair with playing kids, restaurants, cafes where friends sat to have a drink and chat. I think I like Varadero much better than any other place I've seen in this country.

Lost in thoughts, I just kept jogging along, twisting between rows of slow beachgoers and tourists, winking at local kids and smiling wide. The day was very hot, however, and I remember being surprised at how much I was sweating. Before long, I realized I had gotten back to my starting point, and the hotel lobby felt very, very appealing. The midday heat had made me feel a little dizzy and the prospect of a cold beer under the shade got the last part of my motivation. I called it a day at a little over six miles, spent several more minutes stretching in the shade and enjoyed the rest of day napping in a lounger, reading a book and fantasizing on awesome exotic fruits, champagne and lobsters.

On a sidenote, I discovered that some of the food served at the hotel is actually quite decent. They make a very simple, paella-like rice dish that's very tasty and they serve root vegetables I'm not sure I've ever had before. One is pasty and orange and reminds me of yucca, the other one is tubular and looks like a potato, but is very fibery and has some sort of “spine” you can't eat. This particular one I like a lot. And since they serve both fresh-cut and cooked cabbage, I'm pretty happy with what I eat!

I'll go to bed early tonight and see if I can wake up earlier and head for the beach for an early morning long run tomorrow. Aside from a couple blisters, my body feels great and eager for more!

Cubarathon – Day 1

Welcome to my little playground :)

Miles for the day : 12

With my body constantly getting better and my fitness almost back where I want it to be, thanks to an unbelievable autumn and early winter that were the mildest on record, I decided to make my Cuban vacation a personal winter training camp. I brought three times more running gear than standard clothes and enough gels and bars to run a hundred mile race. Actually, if everything goes well, I should pull off about that distance if I streak and remain constant... Hell if it goes better than planned, I might run more than that. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I got here yesterday night, eager to start a week of running and relaxing in the sun. I'm on my own, which has a lot of advantages. I do what I want, when I want, I can sleep, eat or simply be contemplative to my heart's content.

My hotel is indescribably crappy, with chipped walls, rotten doorways and terrible mattresses, but I find it has a lot of charm for some reason. I don't know if it's because my Spanish has become so much better, but the personnel is super friendly and even random people I met on my run today were open, helpful and smiley. That makes me happy, because my previous Cuban experiences have never been too great, socially speaking.

I woke up at my own rhythm this morning, after a night of watching my TV's only channel, which plays back-to-back episodes of Anthony Bourdain's series. I sorta knew who the guy was, but I'd never really watched the show. I really enjoyed watching him travel through China, then Vietnam, then Thailand, making friends and trying all sorts of exquisite foods and alcohols. He's got nothing on my friend Dan, but it was fun to follow his gastronomic adventures.

As soon as I pulled the curtain, my room got flooded in the gorgeous yellow light of a sunny day, and I marveled at the blue expense that spreads from my window to the horizon. I made my way down to the restaurant, which is 7 flights of stairs each time I go to or from my room. I figured that's part of the training.

Most of you probably don't know Cuba (although that's about to change really soon), so you might not know that it's infamous for its food. Being economically choked by the world's strongest superpower for more than 60 years is sure to leave a trace, so the country relies pretty exclusively on basic staple foods it produces. Add to this fact that I chose the lowest possible grade of accommodation because I'm a dirtbag, and you've got the right ingredients for terrible buffet-style dining... So much so that I've only eaten fruits and white rice so far, and I don't plan to change my diet much if I want to keep a straight stomach.

So after a plateful of decent fresh fruits like guavas, bananas, pineapple slices and something that looked and tasted like a mix of of a lime and an orange (yes, it was delicious), I filled my running vest's bladder and took off.

I didn't have the first idea where to go, so I thought I'd just follow my hotel's street until the miles pile up. It turned out to be a good plan, since I happen to live on one of the longest streets in the peninsula, it seems. I crossed little markets, shops, smiley little kids playing outside and old ladies going about their daily chores. It felt great to see the ordinary, everyday Cuban life, as most resorts are so remote from anything local that you hardly ever have contact with anyone when you come here on an all-inclusive plan. Some people even smiled or waved at me, and I felt perfectly comfortable to wander around on my own two feet.

After about an hour, I made a stop to fiddle with my Luna Origen ATS laces, which rub in-between my big and second toes. I'd specifically brought a roll of Band-Aid tape, expecting this would happen. I took two bits of it, wrapped my second toes and put the sandals back on, with a slight adjustment of the laces. Perfect.

When I finally reached the end of my street, I looked up and decided to veer in the direction of the ocean. Mid-day was coming and the heat here is extremely humid, which makes it a little harder for me to withstand. Add the fact that my skin hasn't pretty much seen a single sun ray since the Copper Canyons, and you'll probably understand why I started to aim for some shade.

I thought I would soon reach some shaded areas by the beach, but instead ended up on the Autopista, a crappy highway filled with exhaust-spewing 50-year-old trucks and cars your grandpa used to drive (they do look amazing, on the other hand). I wasn't very happy with my predicament, and it took a while before I spotted a posh-looking resort and decided to head that way. I'd just walk in and head for the beach, I thought, and run from there back to my point of origin.

I got to the beach, took off my sandals and grinned wide at the idea of a long barefoot run in the sand, but my smile faded pretty quickly when I realized the hotel was built on some cove, blocked on two sides by extremely jagged rock formations. Dammit.

I turned back and followed the directions a nice dude from the hotel gave me. A little while later, after inhaling the black highway fumes for the second time, I finally found a little pathway that lead directly to the beach. It is probably the longest ongoing strip of sand I've ever seen; it took me straight back to my hotel, some 7 miles away. And it keeps going as far as my eyes can see!

The only not-so-great part is that the beach has a sizable slant, which means I can't run anywhere that's flat. After some time coming back, my left hip started to feel the burn. My feet are doing great, however, thanks in part to the barefoot running I've been doing on treadmills this fall. And both my knees feel perfect.

My plan for tomorrow? I'll try to wake up early and get my run early in the morning so I don't get beaten down too much by the sun. I'll run the other direction on the beach, so if my hip starts to hurt, I'll turn around and use the slant to my advantage. And who knows, if I can get some decent mileage, a good nap and a decent mid-day meal, maybe I can go on a sunset run later in the day?

Life is good.

Back From The Barrancas

I had a weird summer, you know. Between hard personal decisions and a nagging little injury, my spirit was weighed down by many thoughts and questions. A lot of those gravitated around a place I love, a place I had come to consider a second home; Urique. I spent many moments wondering how my friends were doing, how the overall situation was and about what the future would hold for this running paradise.

So when the opportunity arose for me to travel back down to the Barrancas, even though for a very short trip, I packed my bag in a heartbeat.

On the road with a truckload of giggling chicas :)

Ever since Michael Miller and I drove out of Urique with heavy hearts, we both swore we would be back no matter what. As the year was slowly nearing its end, Michael told me he had received some positive news from the other side of the border and that there was a window of about a week where not only we could go, but we would also be joined by our good friend Patrick Sweeney, who’d just finished another awesome feat of endurance by running the Chicago Marathon, then running to New York City and running the NYC Marathon as well, Forrest Gump-style.

The positivity started from the get-go. Seeing Sweeney was a real treat, and getting to road trip with two of my best running friends put a huge smile of my face. Even though we red-eyed it all the way, there was still room for happy-hour shenanigans, breathtaking runs and hot pepper shopping.

Beautiful morning run atop Creel

Everywhere we looked, traversing Mexico’s northwest from the Arizona border all the way down to Creel, things seemed pretty quiet and relax. There was only a single roadblock on the whole way, which can only mean that things have cooled down quite significantly.

The magic of the Canyons started for me as soon as we reached Mario’s cabins, nested on a magnificent promontory in San Isidro, where our Raramuri friend Horacio was waiting to take us on an evening run to the rim. Although I have traveled to many places in the Sierra, the canyon top is one of the places I have been the least so I was delighted to discover the trails that lead to Cerro Gallego, the Urique overlook, as well as the gorgeous creek trail that descends into the village of Porochi, where both Miguel and Horacio live. We came back at sunset, just in time for drinks by the bonfire Mario had lit for us. It was perfect.

Cabañas San Isidro, our friend Mario's gorgeous ranch

We set out the next morning, on foot, and descended unto Urique through rugged, ancient trails that are sometimes etched into the boulders by centuries of travel. I was shocked at the amount – and steepness! of the climbs that lead to the rim before the descent begins. On the way, Horacio was generous with information on local farmsteads, connecting trails and meaningful landmarks. Our spirits were high and we felt how specially meaningful it was for us all to be coming again to Urique, on foot, together, using the ancient trails of the People we respect and celebrate.

On the way down to Urique

After a rather difficult hike, we emerged in Urique to the symbolic chant of mourning doves. It brought me a sense of peace and closure, and a strong feeling of being back home. We met with our friends in the government and exchanged meaningful words, united in wishing to perpetuate the running tradition Caballo Blanco created.

Walking to the gate at Entre Amigos almost brought tears to my eyes. The place looks as beautiful as ever, and our friends Maruca and Tomas were waiting for us, all smiles, like they were welcoming their own family. Seeing that beautiful garden once again, and the trees loaded with fruits, was a true joy.

And just when things couldn’t get any better, our friend Prospero and his wife Sabina showed up to give us great news about the Caballo Blanco Trail Project and share even more ideas for the future.

We will be back, Barrancas!

Of course, things are not perfect in the Barrancas. They never were. There are crimes committed frequently all over the Sierra. The people’s struggle with violence is very real and must not be forgotten. But as things stand right now, relative peace appears to have returned, people are back to their daily occupations, and life seems to go on.

Although the race we’ve known and loved will now be an event organized and promoted by Urique, as a runner and as a friend of the Running People, I will be back in March. And so will others.

And that’s a really good thing.



You can follow our work at Norawas de Raramuri on our official website, www.norawas.org

Driving Directions to Urique

I've been asked many times about driving directions for Urique, in the Copper Canyons, and never really took the time to compile the information into a useful, single post. Well I was asked one more time this morning and decided to finally do it :)

Driving from the USA to Urique is a great way to truly experience the Copper Canyons in their remote ruggedness. It's a smooth transition from busy North-American cities to the still quietness and grandeur of the Barrancas. It's also an incredible opportunity for adventure, for meeting great people and for discovering one of the most beautiful countries of the world.

I highly recommend it!

Here's my favorite route to drive down, from Douglas, Arizona :

1. Cross over at Douglas / Agua Prieta (basically drive straight out of the border check point, then take a left, then a right, then you will hit a larger boulevard. This is Route 2. Take a left and you're on your way)

2. Take route 2 to Janos

3. Take route 10 to Nuevo Casas Grandes

4. Some minutes past Nuevo Casas Grandes, you will hit a Y-split. Make a slight right to keep following Route 10, direction Galeana

5. Keep going until Buenaventura. When you come into town, make your way to Av Benito Juarez, which switches into Route 5 out of town. It'll be a right turn.

6. This takes you into a nice ride to Ignacio Zaragoza and through Gomez Farias, then Babicora

7. In Babicora, take a right to follow the road to Route 16. When you hit Route 16, take a left to Guerrero

OPTION - 8A. When entering Guerrero, take a right on main street (Juarez) and keep going straight onto Route 31

OPTION - 8B. In Guerrero, Take Route 110 to La Junta (less scenic, a little faster)

9. Both these ways converge to Route 16 again. If you came from Route 31, take a left on 16 and a right at the turn for Creel. If you came from La Junta, take a right at 16 and a left at the turn for Creel.

10. Stay on that road until Creel. You will cross many towns on the way, the bigger ones being San Juanito and Bocoyna.

11. When in Creel, stay on the main road until the roundabout at the other end of town. There, take the right leg of the roundabout, heading to El Divisadero, San Rafael, and all the way to Bahuichivo.

12. Cross the train tracks in Bahuichivo over to the other side of town. The street will end in a T, take a left. This will take you to Cerocahui

13. In Cerocahui, the road will, again, end in a T. Take a left to Urique / Mesa de Arturo

14. The road will not be paved from this point. You'll start going up. Don't miss the Y-split in the road between Mesa Arturo on the right, and Urique on the left. Of course, you make a left.

15. You are on the road to Urique.

16. Weeeeeeeee!

Additional notes.

There are gas stations in most main towns, but if you want to be on the safe side, you can hit Mexico with a full tank of gas, fuel on the way down when you cross gas stations (They are usually Pemex) or plan a stop in Guerrero or Gomez Farias. Then make sure to refuel in Creel before your way down.

There is gasoline in Urique, bring cash in pesos to pay for it. I suggest you leave town with a full tank, too, just for good measure.

If you want to draw money from Mexico to avoid the currency exchange hassle, you can do so in most main towns such as Agua Prieta, Nuevo Casas Grandes, Gomez Farias, Guerrero and Creel for sure. Always plan that the ATM you hit might be out of order or out of money. Also think about daily withdrawal limits. You won't get far with a credit card, outside of Pemex gas stations. Beyond Creel, plastic money cards are pretty much useless.

People in Mexico will be extremely welcoming and helpful, but be advised they seem to not have a great care for giving precise directions. I've been mislead several times by obviously well-intentioned people, but who had no idea what information they were giving.

You will hit road blocks from time to time, whether manned by army or police personnel. There's at least one outside Agua Prieta, one around Nuevo Casas Grandes and maybe one or two others further down. The guards are typically very curteous. Proper etiquette is to roll your windows down for them to see inside the vehicle. Address them in Spanish at first, even if it's just to say hello. Smile, be calm. The do carry guns, so don't be alarmed. They usually just want to make sure you are not carrying contraband. They are good people to ask directions if you're unsure which road to take.

If you have to go to a police vehicle to ask directions, park your own vehicle at a respectable distance and walk out to the other vehicle. Wave and smile. This way the police will know for sure you're a tourist looking for directions.

There is plenty of food on the way, usually delicious, home-made things you will remember a lifetime. If you want to shop for your own food, markets are usually a great option, as they tend to have many local specialty items. Sunday is THE best day to shop around, since it is the mercado, the day where people from all around gather in the towns to sell various goods. They usually do this in or around the zocalo, or main plaza. This is one great occasion to practice eco-tourism and directly benefit local people.

With eco-tourism in mind, take time to consider when you bargain for goods with locals. My personal experience is they won't inflate the price much, and if they do, really, what's two dollars to you? To them, it might be a better meal, some sweets for the kids or a little gift they can now afford. Think about it!

Enjoy the trip, enjoy the experience, enjoy the views :)



If you have further questions, leave them in the comments section below; it'll help me make this post better!