A Homecoming

Standing at the UMCB 2016 starting line, I felt like I had been catapulted into this moment through a whirl of events which started 4 years ago, when I showed up in Bauichivo, dusty, tired and absolutely amazed only to stumble onto Caballo Blanco and have my life changed forever.

With a single color bracelet at my wrist, I contemplate the extent of the day ahead of me, but quickly wipe that thought and concentrate on what matters; the sun will shine in the Barrancas today, I'm here and so are my friends.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and we are off in a crazy cavalcade, as always, through the early cheers of excited Uriquenses standing on their porches in the early light of a new Canyon's day. I take a couple of weary steps, and everything suddenly falls into flow. I'm a the right place, and this is the right time. It's all going to work out exactly as it's supposed to.

I don't know exactly where this chain of events started. Is it when my brother Dan gave me that book, or when I could't just finish it, put it down and go on with my life, and went online looking for the Raramuri? Is it when I got down from the train and ended up drinking a beer with Micah True 15 minutes later, or when he left me and all my new Mas Loco family to go run with the Elders forever?

All I know is I found myself surrounded with a handful of close friends in a human ocean of Raramuri runners, and that all was right in the world again.

La Plaza, the day before the race

I'll never really know what the Canyons folks really think of us weird gringos and our crazy ideas. What I do know is that they had a twinkle in their eyes this year, and a palpable excitement to see us that felt genuine and almost overwhelming. Sweeney, Tyler, Mike, Muldonado, Kimberly, Tony, everyone was called by name and cheered on like the long-awaited return of a family member. Even Raramuri families on the side of the road seemed to forego their legendary shyness and shouted "Weriga!" for me, something I had never witnessed before.

The miles started piling and my excitement didn't fade. It seemed like everyone shared a little extra friendship, a little extra joy of seeing that no matter what happened before, we were all still here, we were all still running together and we were all, as it always will be, one.

I don't know if it was because so few of us had showed up, but the Raramuris and the local runners showed heartwarming hospitality and shared the trails with large smiles and nods of approval at every corner. I ran some sections with women, who usually step out of the trail at the first sign of a chabochi, looking down or away in silence. With a smaller group of younger Raramuri girls, we even joked about the fact that a faster girl and me, who ended up progressively passing them, were a weird pair with my huaraches and her running shoes. It looked like we were all just a big family out on a long run together, and it was a fantastic feeling.

Coming out of my first stop in Urique, I stumbled upon two very young boys from town, who told me they had been training and preparing for months to be able to run the race. I grinned from ear to ear and congratulated them on their achievements. We shared a good section of the way to Guapalayna, until they decided to take a break away from the rising heat.

The aid stations were filled with happy, giggling teens very eager to help and offer us fruits, pinole and abundant water. There were teams of Red Cross volunteers everywhere, ready to step in and help out struggling runners even on the way out to Los Alisos, far away from the closest road. One of the unit chiefs, a young girl all decked in her Red Cross uniform and vigorously hiking the trails under the burning sun, cheered me on and made sure I was all right before giving me a little slap on the butt and shouting "andale!" which gave everyone, myself included, a good laugh.

As always, showing up half-dead in Los Alisos and being revived by Prospero and his team was a high point of my day. Seeing our friends so busy and dedicated to the race was both humbling and heart-warming, and the hugs and cheers at the end of the trail gave me energy to keep going and reminded me of the importance of what we were doing; we were showing our friends that we love them, the Barrancas and this event, in whatever shape of form it takes.

No matter how hard the day went, people everywhere went out of their way to help out, from that police dude in Guapalayna who literally showered me with a bucket of water to the young girls in La Laja who sat me down and gave me an awesome leg rub with a local analgesic pomada, all the way to that lovely young woman on my last way out of Guadalupe, who popped open a Tecate for me, offered a couple sips and assured me her boyfriend wouldn't kill me if I gave her a kiss. So I gave her two :)

My Oso's and my colors :)

Absolutely everything went as well as I had hoped, and even better. My Raramuri friend Javier placed 7th overall in the race, smashing his previous record and finishing ahead of some legendary runners despite a pretty bad cramping bout on his last stretch. Tarzan Tyler had an amazing run and finished first gringo under a thunder of cheers. All the Mas Locos in our caravan finished their runs and crossed the line with a lot of emotion, as some were experiencing this for the first time. No matter where you were in Urique, UMCB 2016 brought joy, excitement and a whole lot of positivity.

I managed to have an about-12-hour overall run, which I am very satisfied with. After a rather demanding stretch from Los Alisos almost all the way up to Guadalupe, I pumped myself full of the gels my friends had scrambled for me in Urique and pulled a pretty impressive last 5K, catching up with my friend Muldowney and finishing in daylight, exhausted but filled with joy.

The Urique government did an amazing job at organizing the event, from super-well-staffed aid stations to the 100% local cultural program. They pulled a world-class event pretty flawlessly, providing food and camps for the Raramuri runners as well as cash prizes and food vales like has now become tradition.

Like every year, I left Urique too soon, my head filled with memories and my heart filled with the pride of knowing that Ultra Caballo Blanco is in good hands with the people of the Barrancas, that it will go on for a long time in the future and that I, for sure, as always, will be back in the beautiful Copper Canyons as soon as I get the chance.

I kept my 5 colors on my wrist like a trophy up until today, not so much for the running achievement, but as a reminder of the love, friendship and peace we helped create.

I will be back in 2017 and I'm sure that I won't be alone. Until then, I have a year's worth of daydreaming and memories to cherish and a ton of new projects with my friends who live in the Barrancas, the home I will always love coming back to.

Moldonado, friends, and me, sharing
a celebratory cold drink at the finish line

Mourning Doves

Peaceful. Quiet. Spiritual. Words that will often be used by those who visit the Copper Canyons of Mexico. Whether they came to experience a running journey with the Raramuri or they wandered down on a traveling adventure, visitors of the Barrancas Del Cobre emerge back transformed, changed.

At the heart of the Caballo Blanco Ultra is such a story of personal, spiritual transformation. One man, Micah True, intrigued by what he had witnessed at the Leadville 100, began a journey to the Sierra Madre that would not only change his life, but the lives of many others. He would meet the Raramuri and, through his cultural sensitivity, adjust his behavior to allow ever more proximity and mutual understanding. By taking the required time to wander around the Canyons, by refraining from intrusion into the houses and villages, by remaining a humble and peaceful observer, he was offered a great privilege of growing access and exchange with The Running People.

After several years of a growing relationship, he decided to do something he felt was important, something he felt his new friends would understand and appreciate. With the help of local sponsors, he created a running event. A gesture of immense symbolism for a People who define themselves by the very act of running. They understood, and they responded. Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco, and the history that ensued, was born.

It was never easy for Micah True to realize his dream and vision. He understood the social, economic and cultural challenges both the Raramuri and Northwest Mexico face on a daily basis. He struggled with the local powers, both official and non-official. He was always culturally conflicted between establishing a bridge connecting the running people of the world and intruding on a millennial culture that had done well without interactions with others.

But he never gave up. He searched his soul for answers and he based his actions on a set of values which he would never compromise. Truth. Integrity. Peace. Openness. He would follow them to a fault, not hesitating to refuse commercial opportunities or widespread endorsement. He followed an uncompromising path of action very few can claim for their own.

When he left, Micah left the world, the Running People, the Mas Locos, the inhabitants of the Barrancas and his friends with a work of love that needed to continue. All of them united behind the importance of that work to agree it had to be perpetuated. Josue Stephens and Maria Walton stepped up, against all the unknowns, the risks and the open questions. They, before everyone else, realized that above all, UMCB had to carry on. Others soon followed.

2013 rolled in, and a first running celebration happened. It was moving. It was difficult. It was beautiful. It brought the realization that UMCB was still the life-changing experience Micah True had created. Facing the same challenges, risks and uncertainties.

2014 confirmed the commitment of international runners, an ever-growing group of Mexican nationals and the whole population of the Canyons to perpetuating a tradition that has become charged with meaning and purpose. “Race week” is not only a time for festivities in Urique; it is a time where runners from the whole world can come down to a sacred land and share what they do best. Being Humans and being runners who share the same footpaths, unhindered by politics, language, culture and appearances. It is a time for the Raramuri to witness good will, respect and support from the four corners of the world; to be given a mirror image of the beauties of their own culture and to humbly feel pride to be a part of it.

This is the true tragedy of UMCB 2015. This year, just as we were crossing that symbolic Bridge of Nations, we were faced with a surge of brutality and death right on the doorstep of our friends’ homes. We were confronted with the harsh, unfiltered reality of life in the Barrancas. We were victimized, just like the local people, by inhuman acts of violence.

Now I want to ask you; does it matter what the source of that violence is? Are there clear-cut sides in that conflict that can be oversimplified to the Good and the Bad people? Should all the deaths be accounted and described in gruesome details? Should that critical situation of personal and global security be used for sensationalism and shock value?

No.

Whether 2, 20 or 200 people were kidnapped and murdered, whether hand guns, machine guns or grenades were used is completely and utterly besides the point. It doesn’t matter how many troops had to be brought in. It doesn’t matter what affiliation the people partaking in the conflict had. It doesn’t change a thing where the dead bodies were discovered.

What matters is the People of the Canyons are our friends. The People of the Canyons are human beings who suffer through violence, hatred, confusion and bloodshed. What matters is that mothers cry for their disappeared sons, and families are torn with grief in a silent, constant storm fueled thousands of miles away by people who simply don’t care and turn a blind eye, while rolling a Friday-night joint with their friends. What matters is, as I was told, this whole situation could not happen if not for the tacit approval of everyone. Everyone.

Photo : Mikko Ijas

And this is where Norawas de Raramuri, the race directors and the family of Mas Locos drew a line. Saturday, February 28, 2015, in the face of violence, we decided to take a stance. We decided that, notwithstanding the clear and present danger of the situation, cancelling the race would not be a matter of security. We would do the only thing in our power to protest the madness and destruction. Cancelling the race would be a humble, quiet, nonviolent statement for Peace.

We would speak with our bodies the same universal language we have shared since the beginning with the Raramuri. We would not accept to perform an act of friendship, openness and sharing in the face of a fratricidal war. We would not run.

With unspeakable sadness, I walked back to my camp in the comfort and company of many. I was stopped on my way out by countless townspeople and Raramuris who either voiced their thanks for our gesture or silently bowed their head, expressing more than a thousand words. As the hours passed, I was consoled by witnessing people coming together for impromptu meals and celebrations, sharing together like we have always done. I was visited by friends who could not hold their tears in a mix of resignation, frustration and despair at a situation that poisons the lives and the minds. We shared those feelings, together, as well.

When later in the evening, word spread out that an ad-hoc, unsanctioned race would happen the next morning, nothing had changed in the minds of many. The decision that had been taken had, truly, nothing to do with immediate security. The statement that had been made remained. The only thing that anyone could do, in most runners’ mind – and no matter how much everyone yearned to run with the Raramuri - was to quietly stay the course and maintain that stance of peace. The symbol was powerful, meaningful and direly needed. We were saying “We know, we suffer and we oppose.”

Turning around and running the ad-hoc race would have been a blatant approval of the very workings we deplore. Using the language of our bodies to support a façade would have been a lie and a misrepresentation of the values that brought me to the Copper Canyons in the first place. Joining the remaining Raramuri in Urique who literally ran out of options and lined up because they had so much more to lose was, to me, the worst thing I could ever inflict on a People known to turn away and leave at the first sign of aggression.

I packed my bags, hugged my friends and swore to them I will be back, no matter what. “We know”, they simply answered.

Leonardo Cleto. Runner, father, husband, friend

As the dust kicked up on the view of Urique, climbing up that wild winding road in my friends’ truck, my stomach, my heart and my soul were sick. I felt the worst abandonment, powerlessness and despair. I still do to this day and will for a long time. I cry for the loss of my friend Leonardo Cleto, senselessly murdered in the cycle of violence. I cry for my Raramuri friends who could not walk away like those from closer villages and stayed behind, caught in the confusion and face-saving sham. I cry for the selfishness and insensitivity of some foreigners who used the events for self-promotion and glorification. I cry for Mexico, The Beautiful, from which I received numerous messages of shame and sadness. I cry as I still receive horrible news of substitute policemen reeled in for the unsanctioned race being kidnapped and killed as retribution. I cry for the fear that eats away at the weary heart of the Uriquenses.


I, as many others who were witnesses, am losing sleep over such terrible events. But, like many of my friends, my determination has not wavered. My love has not faded. I hold no grudge to others who have lived the experience in their own way, following their own hearts, values and interpretation of events.

The message has not changed. Peace, truth and openness are what make Mas Locos. I will be back in the Barrancas. We will be back in the Barrancas.

The iconic bird of the Sierra Madre is the Mourning Dove. It is a quiet, shy creature. But its soft song can be heard everywhere in the Canyons.

It’s time to show the Raramuri that we understand the true meaning of Kuira Ba.

We are one.






Le sensationnalisme et la peur ne sont que la voix de ceux qui l'imposent. La paix, l'ouverture et l'humilité sont les seuls moyens pour les contrer.

Why Raramuri Trails Matter, And How YOU Can Help

I first became aware of Norawas de Raramuri through Caballo Blanco himself. He told me that a group of people and him had created a non-profit organization that gathered funds to help with the purchase of food vouchers for the runners of the Ultra, but that, eventually, maybe they would do something more.

“Like what?” I asked.

His answer struck me. He told me never to forget that the Raramuri had survived – and thrived – on their own for hundreds of years, pretty much without outside intervention. He warned that we should always consider the actions we take to make sure they are genuine Korima and not the result of good-intentioned but ill-planned, culturally-intrusive projects.

So when we had to do without him, both in our lives and in the work of Norawas, we tried to always remember and consider what he said. We had lengthy conversations about how we could broaden the actions of Norawas in the Canyons and, for a while, we agreed only that the ideal first step would be to have a project that came from our friends themselves, a local idea that stemmed from the very people this organization celebrates.

And it happened.

One day, a group of us ran up to Los Alisos, to pay a visit to our friend Prospero Torres. As he was telling us the story of his friendship with Micah and how, together, they had set in motion the first plan for a race in the Barrancas, he told us he had an idea he wanted to share.

He explained that as the first sponsor of the Ultra Marathon, he had offered food and comfort to the runners on their way to Batopilas. He had also helped Micah figure out the way to use through the complex network of footpaths the Raramuri use in their everyday life. Later on, when the race became bigger, Prospero was put in charge of maintaining a segment of those trails that spanned from the bridge at La Laja up to his ranch.

He noticed that, after the race, local Raramuris would use the trail in greater numbers. The footpath was smooth and wide, safe for the people and for pack animals, and therefore a better travel option than before.

He told us he wanted to do the same with more trails. He asked if we could help him fund a local team that would restore and maintain a much longer way. He wanted to revive the whole length of the original Caballo Blanco Trail which had been used for the very first race. We answered that it would be an honor. What an awesome idea ; giving work to local Raramuris reinvigorating the traditional footpaths that serve as foundation to their culture.

So quietly, we gathered the initial funds to begin the work on the trail, last year.

When I traveled back, in early 2014, Prospero had a big surprise waiting; he told me to meet him up the trail and get together with the work team. When I asked how I was supposed to find my way, he answered, all smiles : “From Los Alisos, just look up. You can’t miss that trail now!”.

He was right.

A couple steps from the gate of Los Alisos, I discovered a beautiful, smooth, freshly-worked trail that climbed and twisted and took me to ever-more beautiful sights, ever higher up the Canyon walls… until I reached this point :

That in itself was a delightful surprise. But what struck me straight at the heart, confirming the whole purpose of Norawas and the projects we sustain, was when I reached the point where the local team was working. They raised their heads up one by one. Manuel, Silvino, Isidro… all from the original, very first group of 7 Raramuri runners who ran with Caballo Blanco in 2004… and started it all :) They had all come to lend a hand. They had all come to show support.

With 2015 rolling in, now you can also show support. Not by doing anything flashy or over-the-top. We offer you to do it Raramuri-style, humble and quiet. We offer you to sponsor a mile marker on the trail with the message of your choice. Basically, we offer you to buy a rock, and to adorn it with a word, a symbol, a drawing, a totem animal.

I am proud to announce that one of these first rocks will be sponsored by a group of people I love, namely Martin Coulombe, Dominic Melançon, JF Boucher and the Pandora 24 Ultra team. I will be honored to take Pandora’s totem creature to Las Barrancas in a couple days.

If you have a minute, read the Caballo Blanco Trail Project description on Norawas’ blog. Better yet, make a donation specific to getting a mile marker and make a true difference, quietly, supporting a beautiful running culture we all celebrate.

Kuira Ba!

Run Free - The Movie

 It was early, one of the first mornings after my arrival in Urique. My trip was already turning into a great adventure; not 5 minutes upon arriving to Bahuichivo’s train station, three days prior, I’d stumbled on Caballo Blanco and arranged to meet him again down canyon for some running. He’d showed up in his pick-up truck with a new friend he met in Creel, Olaf Sorensen, and us three had been running, cooking and hanging out ever since.

That special morning would turn out to be the starting point of an incredible adventure, filled with excitement, discovery, friendship, loss and elation. But I didn’t know any of that when, while cooking pinole for breakfast, Micah casually mentioned he would be meeting a film crew the next day to shoot a documentary. And that he wanted Olaf and I to join them.

I really, really didn’t want to do it. What was I to do in any of this anyway? This had nothing to do with me, and the mere thought of being in the back scenes made me feel like a wannabe. So I told Olaf I wouldn’t be going. I said I would just stay at Entre Amigos and do some running on my own, and hang out when they would come back from the shoots.
“Don’t you want to be part of this?”, Olaf asked. “Don’t you want to explore the Canyons, meet the People, spread the message? Would you rather have someone else do this, someone who doesn’t get it? Who’s there just for show?”

With Micah and Sterling Noren, filming

That left me thinking. For about five minutes. Micah showed up at that point and just added “I’d like to have you guys around, you know, for the running and all.” So we agreed we would be his crew, make sure he’d get stuff to eat and a couple extra helping hands for anything he’d need to get done. And off we went.

That was the beginning of an epic adventure, a chain of events that changed my life forever. Because of this, I got to spend five wonderful weeks with Micah, travel all over the Barrancas and develop a meaningful friendship I was convinced would last a lifetime. I got to experience the wild roller coaster of movie making, with its hilarious, infuriating and boring moments. I got to listen in while Micah was telling the real story of Caballo Blanco and Born to Run. I got to be profoundly touched and influenced by a man’s humble dream, message and vision.

This has been my personal journey ever since. Now, more than three years later, everyone is about to share a part of that privileged time. Everyone will get to meet a wonderful, soft spoken, but also hard-headed man who never made any compromise to ensure his actions would make a true difference. Everyone will share intimate, personal conversations with a genuine person who only half-willingly became famous through a strange twist of fate, and decided to, as he said himself, “use the voice he was given”.

Olaf Sorensen, Micah True and myself

Micah True died less than 3 weeks after we finished shooting the scenes of Run Free. The images of this movie turned out to be his last message, his legacy to those others who would listen and care.

You, my friend, are one of these people. If you hang out in FlintLand, you share some values, interests and dreams with me. Today, you get to share much more. Today, you get to make Run Free a reality. You get to help making sure Micah True’s message remains forever.




Please purchase your advance copy of the movie, and help spread the message.

Thank you, and Kuira Ba.

For the whole duration of the campaign, I will proudly display this reminder on the top left of FlintLand. Whenever you can, please share this and spread the message as much as you want. And if you care about this, please consider supporting our campaign financially.







Run Free, c'est plus qu'un film, plus que le récit intime d'une aventure extraordinaire et trop courte que j'ai vécue avec Caballo Blanco. C'est un message important, positif et vital, que vous pouvez aider à propager. Aidez-nous dans notre campagne Kickstarter en achetant d'avance votre copie du film ou en contribuant financièrement. Aidez-nous à garder le message de Micah True bien vivant.

Game Changers

My friends at Tribesports have asked me an interesting question. They are in the midst of a feature they call “Game Changers”, which tries to highlight the exceptional people who have had such an influence on their sport that they actually brought some change into either how the sport was played or how it was perceived.

As an example, they mentioned Roger Bannister, who ran the first sub-4 minute mile, explaining the he had proven to Humanity that we could be faster than was reputed impossible, if we worked hard enough for it.


Then they asked me if I knew a Game Changer in running. It didn’t take me very long to answer. Not only do I know one, but I actually had the privilege of running with him and spending some time in the land he helped the rest of the world discover. I am, of course, talking about Caballo Blanco, Micah True.

Let me start right away by saying he would hate this article if he read it, scoff and call it all sorts of awful names. He would say that having an influence in the world of running is the last thing he wanted, that people should make their own minds and blaze their own paths. And that, in part, was the true genius of Micah; never would he tell anyone to do anything. He just did what he did, followed his heart and his vision and waited for no one to follow.

Caballo Blanco started ultra-running over 20 years ago, way before it was cool and probably before it was even recognized as a sport in itself. He would just hit the trails and run for hours, exploring the capabilities of his body and mind, reflecting on many things and setting his fiery heart back to a peaceful state. All the while, he was also looking for purpose, for a higher meaning to life. He was convinced somehow, there had to be a way for running to become not only a way of life, but the essence of a meaningful existence.

He kept running for years with this idea in mind, reflecting, searching, until the day providence made him cross paths with the Tarahumara. Within a couple hours of running with Martimiano Cervantes in the 1993 Leadville race which would change everything, Micah discovered a civilization that was in almost every way aligned on his yearning for a different world.

He never saw the Tarahumara as superhuman, half gods or anything of the sort. He recognized them as brothers and sisters, and felt a deep kinship with these proud, yet very humble people who kept mostly to themselves, favored peace over conflict and lived quietly in harmony with the earth. And in all the following years, when he travelled to the Copper Canyons and slowly made contact with the Tarahumara, it’s his humble respect that served as an ambassador and, ultimately, as the gateway to a most unusual connection.

When he was introduced to the world, clumsily, by an otherwise fascinating book, his reaction was not to live out his newly-acquired fame or to try and build a fortune around it. He simply, humbly recognized that he had been given a voice, and he decided to use it to carry a simple message. After years of exploring, by himself, with others and among the Tarahumara, he had distilled the essence of running down to a powerful principle, a philosophy so pure and simple that it stood in only two, small words.

Run Free.

Go out into the world. Use your body as the vehicle it was always intended to be. Reawaken your DNA’s memory and make one with nature. Explore. Do not relinquish your own judgement at the profit of the experts or the merchants of the time. Make your own mind. Fail. Then try again. Invest time and effort into your running, with an open heart and a true interest. And you will get more than you ever expected.

He spent the last years of a life too short spreading this message, not by trying to convince anyone, but by incarnating it. The bridge he had created with an amazing people, he shared with an open heart as well with a vast family of kindred spirits from all around the world, which he christened “the most crazy”, the Mas Locos.

He left this world richer than when he joined it, with a cultural and spiritual connection so strong that he is recognized in Tarahumara culture as a genuine member of the tribe, as a true brother. His humble vision and philosophy, shared and spread by the Mas Locos, lives strong today as the race he created continues in the same spirit and more people every year join the ranks of those who run free, the Running People.

When you encounter a runner today who doesn’t wear a fancy GPS, doesn’t follow a training plan and is keener on talking about the experience of their run rather than the time it took them to complete it, chances are this person has been influenced, in some way or another, by Caballo Blanco and his beautiful, important message.

The Caballo Blanco Story

This is a beautiful short story about the life and vision of Micah True, better known as Caballo Blanco, as rendered by New York artist Sam Carbaugh.

As we are nearing March 27, I want to remind the world about my friend and inspiration, Micah True, who went out on his last run one year ago in the beautiful Gila Forest of New Mexico.

Although there is still not a day where I miss him beyond words, I was elated to witness the vitality of his dream and spirit in the Copper Canyons in March, where more than 500 runners, both foreign and Raramuri, gathered for the celebration of peace, friendship and sharing that Micah created from his good will and his actions. 

Like many people in the world, Sam Carbaugh was touched by Micah's passion and devotion to the Raramuri and the simple, humble joy of running. Sam invested his time and talent into creating a small biography that stays true to both who Micah was as person and as the creator of the legendary Copper Canyons Ultra Marathon (now known as Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco). This is as much a story about Micah True as it is the one of his legacy as Caballo Blanco, Runner of the Sierra Madre.

After making the story of the Raramuri and UMCB their "Monday Inspiration" feature on the week of the race, our friends at Tribesports have decided to pay homage to Caballo Blanco by featuring his story on their ultrarunning blog. For posterity, I will also feature the story right here, on FlintLand, forever.

Run free!

Friends Running Free

A short video of a couple runs leading to Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco 2013, in the Copper Canyons of Mexico. Shot with friends Olaf, Augusto, Donald, Joel, Patrick and Zac. Run free!

Going Back

I’m going back to Urique.


I’m traveling for a couple days just to get there, down and away from the craziness. Time is going to stretch, my mind is going to slowly come to rest and my lungs will fill with the dry scents of the Sierra.



I found something in the Copper Canyons, but I’m not quite sure what it is.


Even before, even when the town was just a misty rendering my mind had made from a legend, I was drawn to it. And I’m not the only one. My story is the story of a lot of Mas Locos. Like Mike Miller says, it seems we all read a book, then got an unexplainable feeling and were compelled to seek the White Horse, the Running People and the Barrancas del Cobre. We ended up lining together with people we’d never met before and reached transcendence, somewhere along a dusty, thousand-year-old footpath across the canyons. On the way, it seems we all gained something and shared it ever since in a tight bond, but no one can really put words on exactly what it is.


We know it has to do with a Great Connection. We’re aware that it’s related to the inspiration of one man, a dream that he somehow bestowed upon us without a word. We feel the presence of a kinship between ourselves, and with the Raramuri, even when only shy glances are ever exchanged. We understand there’s great meaning in the gesture of leaving our world and joining another one to peacefully celebrate through the ancient, simple and joyful act of running.


Sitting under the porch at Entre Amigos, one of the first mornings of my first trip to the Canyons, soaking sunrays and sipping coffee with Keith, I was trying to verbalize how I felt about being there, about the place, about how it made me feel, but I was only sputtering nonsensical babble. Keith just smiled and said “You know, this place, it does things to you”.


It took some time for me to fully understand what he meant.


Now a year later, I’m spending jittery days packing my bags, knowing I will be down in the Barrancas once again, for the third time. I’m antsy about simple things, like crossing the gate at Entre Amigos, knowing that Micah won’t be there smiling, happy to catch up on how things have been for each other. I’m also sad that my friend Keith won’t be there this time either to share morning conversations under the trees. I think of the work ahead, hoping it will make the White Horse smile. I face the fact that I am still mourning.


I’m going back to the Land of the Raramuri. This time, not as much an eager stranger but more as one of the Running People. I’m going back to celebrate life, as tough as it may be sometimes. I’m going back to honor my friend’s dream, which has become my own. I’m going back to the family of Mas Locos, to our friends all over the Canyons, to the dry and rough, but beautiful nature, to a simpler expression of everything.


I’m going back home.

Mas Loco Baseball Shirt Campaign

Our friends at Luna Sandals definitely have their Christmas spirit on! Just in time for the Holidays, they have printed a limited edition Mas Loco shirt to help us with the UMCB :)

The shirt, created by illustrator Samuel Carbaugh, shows your support to the event (in the front) and asks if you're crazy enough to join us in the Canyons next March (in the back). They sell for $25, and every last cent of profit will go toward supporting the Raramuri through the Caballo Blanco Ultra Marathon!

Spread the word, show your support, share the love :)

Apache Tear

I laid an Apache Tear down in the forest

Inside an inukshuk I built under a tree

Like a little shelter for you to rest

In this place I call The Sanctuary

Throughout the mountain, this place is unique

With its cedar trees and tumbling rocks

Protected by the sharp winds from the peak

And speckled with evergreen moss

Heavy tears roll down my cheeks

As I recall how we had said

We would come here when we’d meet

And run together once again

It is hard to let you go

But your soul needs to roam

Of all the places that I know

This one’s the best to be your home

I laid an Apache Tear

With my eyes welled up again

But I know I will be back here

Filled with thoughts of you, my friend.

Kuira Ba, Caballo Blanco

The Messenger

He’s been pictured as The Lone Wanderer, The Ghost of The Sierra Madre. A man of legend, an obscure mystic who dropped out of a former life to become some kind of a gatekeeper to a hidden culture of super humans.

The real story, however, is much better than this.

Micah True is a simple man, in all the best meanings of the term. Much like the Raramuri, he comes across as soft-spoken, calm and radiating with a humble pride. But that’s where the comparison ends.

Before meeting him, I was somewhat apprehensive that he might be a “convert”, trying to be more Raramuri than the Raramuri themselves, or some sort of overwhelmed preacher trapped in a one-way logic. It took the best part of a minute for these thoughts to vanish when he shook my hand for the first time.

“Hey, Francois”.

Within minutes, we were simply sitting together, sharing stories, planning to meet up later in the week, down in the canyons. Simple as that. Sure enough, a couple days after, we met again. It was even better this time; he’d found a new friend up in Creel and brought him along. It was Olaf, another aspiring Mas Loco soon to become “The Badass”. But that’s an entirely other story.

Since our first run, what struck me the most was how Caballo isn’t trying to be anyone else than himself, an impression that still holds after spending a couple weeks traveling and running together. Micah True doesn’t try to be a Raramuri, and that’s partly why I think the Running People appreciate him so much.

There’s a reason this man is welcome anywhere in the Copper Canyons, and it has nothing to do with fame or legend. People recognize him as a kindred spirit, a person of peace and a fellow runner. And he, in return, simply treats them the same way.

I consider it a privilege to have shared some of his travels, not only by running the ultra marathon but by taking part in the background work that leads to it, which is a story I feel needs to be told.

Months before the actual event, the cameras and the buzz, the White Horse is hard at work, making sure the extensive logistics will be in place, in time and ensuring the word spreads around in the canyons. Runners near and afar have to be invited, trails need to be maintained and marked, aid stations must be stocked, corn vouchers purchased. “It’s colossal work”, I once told him while running on the trails. “We are messengers”, he answered, “expressing hope, love and respect”.

I didn’t grasp the full extent of Caballo’s words before quite some time. But after having seen him work, travel, run, live, laugh, struggle, overcome and persevere, I got it.

• He brings hope by making sure everyone who participates in the race, whether by running or by helping out, wins something. Tens of tons of corn, as well as thousands of dollars in money, are awarded every time. This is not a handout; it’s a genuine community event for all to look forward to.
  
  
• He brings love by organizing a footrace that celebrates the center of the Raramuri culture and where the focus is set on Korima, The Circle of Sharing, expressed by the warm welcome given to everyone and by the distribution of everything won by international runners back into the community.
  
  
• He brings respect by inviting avid, passionate endurance athletes from all over the world, who hold in the highest esteem this humble, proud tribe of Running People and who’ve traveled from far away just to get the chance to run alongside them for a day of peace and celebration.

However, it’s only after the race was over, after the elation, after I had left even my new brother Olaf to slowly make my way back home that I realized the key part of Micah’s phrase, that day. It’s a simple, two-letter word that holds all the power of Caballo Blanco’s actions inside and out of the Copper Canyons and that best sums up all the love and respect I have for him.

He said “We”.