Trainhopping

When time flies, I´m glad that moments will last forever

Coming from 10.000ft mountain peeks in Colorado, I'm finally reunited with the endless mass of salty liquid, the smell of fish and the perfect shade of blue. I'm glad to be back at this level zero.



The cozy town of Telluride
After two weeks hitch hiking thru Colorado, New Mexico and Mexico I arrived in Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific coast in Mexico where Ed gave me huge hugs and Ketevara shimmered with anticipation in her dock. It was time to start a new voyage.
But first, before we take of into the sunset, I have to tell you: about the best ride ever, the most memorable hitching rides, a holy parade with more than two million people and two long weeks getting ready in the marina.
Leaving Crested Butte with pain in my heart, but a strong knowing I will probably return some day, my next leg to cross America started. I must have hitched more than 3000 miles from Calgary to Puerto Vallarta in a total of one week.
This stretch was going to be more relaxed though, with stops and sigh seeing.



A true Wildernest
On this first fine day I ended, as hoped, in Telluride, where my last ride, Jeff, offered his wildernest to share (a fold out tent on top of the bed of a truck). It was fresh and freezing when I hiked in my open sandals thru the snow to the top of a high mountain, overlooking this cozy little ski town, nestled in the crook of the San Juan mountains.
It is hard to imagine those cold moments when I'm sweating my ass off here in the boat in the middle of the sea. Besides from high to low altitude, I went from fresh to sticky, from dry to humid, from snow to piss warm water, from white/yellow/brown to blue/green/beige, from sweet to salt, from sox's to bikini bottoms and from being out of breath to feeling like Super Woman while running up hill. Variation is the spice of life.
Day two on the road was great too.
My first ride, Scott, was a source of historic information about what Telluride was like before the tourist boom exploded. He was born here, owned an old, historical silver/copper/gold mine and took me along on the tour he gave that morning. What a construction.



A stone go caught between the tires of the truck, my driver got it our again.
One guy (who was not even going in my direction), brought me 50 miles down a long, deserted highway and bought me a taco salad. Not one minute after he had driven away, (I was still fumbling with my camera to make a sunset picture and had not even thought about putting my thumb out), a huge truck turned around (!!!!!!!!) and picked me up: “I know you have to go South, but I will go there eventually after picking up my load. I'll buy you dinner or so.” My stomach was starting to digest the taco salad a pace faster to make room.
Jeff turned out to be an awesome ride till deep in the night with a place to sleep at the end.



Alex and I hitching in the back of a truck
Every ride is so different, from poor, fishing folk in old '77 Subaru's who give you $10 for a hamburger, to flashy, sunglass macho's in Lincoln Limousine's who even don't know the way.
Day three was an easy one. It took a long time before I found my truck driver, but it was a good one. He was Mexican, spoke broken English, but was extremely helpful. Not only did he drive me over the boarder into Mexico, he fed me seven taco's (viva la Mexico!), and drove me ways out of town afterwards to help me find another truck driver who would go all the way to Chihuahua.
We found one eventually, a dirty, fat, crystal smoking Mexican who kept saying: “I so hot forrr youuu” But he was ok, no hands were in wrong places, not even when it got really late and we both slept in the back bed for a few hours. I was more than 24 in that truck, it was a strain, but he brought me even further than Chihuahua.



Tarahumara people in Devisadero
I got close to my first visit to Barranca del Cobre (the Copper Canyon). This carved out monster of canyons consist out of more than 20 canyons carved out by at least six different rivers. Together they are four times larger than the Grand Canyon in Arizona, and nine are deeper than it is. Riding the train from Creel, elevation 2338m, to El Fuerte, elevation 180m, is a wondrous adventure from conifers and evergreens to subtropical forests with cacti.
Before arriving in Creel, a backpacker's stop for exploring the canyon, I spend the night in Cuauhtemoc where, probably due to the early hour, I forgot my camera battery which was still plugged in the wall. Not wanting to pay again for the five hour bus ride twice, I decided to hitch up and down the next day. It went even faster then in the US, with high speed those locos brought me up and down the mountain in record time.



A view of the canyon with me jumping in
Creel was friendly, small and full with fellow travelers. I think it's one of the first times I was in a hostel with so many back packers and like-minded people. We shared information, advice and dinner at the long tables.
With Judith, 21, from Germany, who spoke good Spanish from previous travels, I spend a day hitching around to all the interesting rock formations, waterfalls and hot springs. We got lucky with the last one. Two trucks picked us up and drove us all the way down to the springs, normally you have to hike several miles down and up over this cobbled road that winds steeper down then anything I've ever seen before. The word hairpin switch backs was right fitted for this decent. The two couples enjoyed the water just like we did and took us back up (we saw some poor fellow backpackers from our hostel pushing up their rented bikes) and fed us picnic dinner before driving us back to town.



Waiting for the train
Alex, 23, was another character in town. This dude from California was on a hitch adventure for a few weeks... or months. He had just started, but his Spanish was fantastic because of a previous year in Spain. We went in the same direction, so we tagged along. First hitching to Davisadero where the view is right into the main canyon. Absolutely fantastic, it reminded me of the Blue Mountains near Sydney in Australia. It is absolutely not comparable with the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon is red, open, rock formations and tourists. The Copper Canyon is green, densely forested with here and there a protruding rock and deserted. A few km down the road was another good viewpoint, I have to say even better, more extending into the canyon, higher.



There he is... our ride
Time to take the train and make our way down to lower plains.
While waiting for the old, red locomotive with five passenger trains we started talking about what we had joked about that morning: 'Have you ever done it?' 'No, you?' 'No'. There are two trains every day, first class and second. We're in Mexico, so they arrived Mexican time... a few hours late. The first class passed by, too expensive: 500 pesos.



The shining wheels, just feet away
Waiting... 'It would be really cool eh?' 'Yeah, we would be the only ones.' In the distance we heard the second class blow its whistle, it was leaving the station in Davisadero, and it would be here in ten minutes. 'Let's do it!' 'I am running short on days, we would loose a whole day. I so wanna do it though.' 'Let's flip a coin?'
The second class came... and went by. Ieieieie, we were going to try it, butterflies going nuts.



The ledge with our packs
A lovely afternoon was spent strolling down small paths into the canyon where little huts and goat quarrels were discovered. Mexico's most numerous indigenous people, the Tarahumara, still retain a traditional lifestyle here. You can see there caves and huts nestled into the overhangs. Their way of dress is layered and colorful. Grass braided baskets and pottery is their craft.
We were talking about Tequila and Fuego while walking back to the backyard we were staying at (this guy had rebuild a house into some sleeping quarters). Some other man had vacated the other rooms and offered Tequila, while in the main area a fire was giving a good ambiance. Good men, good atmosphere.
Our care taker was not joking when he said that the included dinner would be rice and beans. It was hilarious when we were eating in his kitchen and were really looking at each other: 'This is really it?' But what do you want for 80 pesos.



Hanging out
O my god, we hardly slept, to affright we would miss our ride in the early morning. Both our dreams were based on trains. Six am we departed with apples from the Manzana trees and butterflies to carry us uphill. An hour to walk back to Davisadero and fifteen minutes when we heard it's whistle. God, it could not be more perfect. We bolted up the stairs and saw it... drive by. Damn! It didn't stop!
Plan B: hitch to the next town where the change it would stop was bigger. Walk walk, the first car crammed us in the backseat and we were there, walking over the tracks to... Aahhh there she was, our third class ride. A beautiful, long, fast, never stops, dirty, exhilarating, cargo train, and we were gonna ride it. WE HOPPED A CARGO TRAIN!!!!



Alex’ silhouette in one of the 87 tunnels
Enough time to eat breakfast in someone's kitchen and adventure was to take off.
People, I can tell you that excitement is not to be found at funfair grounds, or amusement parks, or in zoo's, it's all out there, ready to be ridden, free and extremely exciting because that 'Not knowing' factor pump your adrenaline. No comfort of safety belts and stay-behind-the-lines, just common sense and stupid bravery.
A fellow hopper shared his spot with us: a small ledge by far not big enough to sit three people. Alex and I were all giggly and bright smiled. The snake put itself in motion, slow at first, but soon it picked up speed. Tarzan sounds came from our ledge and eyes twinkled like the brightest stars.



Passing the first class train going the other direction
Not fifteen minutes into the ride our fellow hopper went to find some tea...elegantly he hopped to the ladder and climbed on top of the wagon to return ten minutes later with success. We looked at each other: 'He's definably loco, probably not very happy with his life'.
First we were excited enough to just sit there and feel the wind hear the sounds and feel the rush flowing thru our bodies, but soon we wanted to explore more. It was going to be an eight hour ride, you need to change position. So from sitting on the ledge we moved to the sides, sitting on a rail, hanging out, looking up and down the wagons, the full wind in our hair.



All three on top
The wheels were the only thing shining, all other was black, we got so dirty and growly and really into it. With the tracks less then a meter flashing under us, gaspingly open and making our hearts beat, we zoomed passed the vista's of several canyon's, descending into more jungle like vegetation. This growling dragon of pleasure spun its wheels downhill, shivering with anticipation to try and make us stumble, misstep or fall backwards. It wanted to eat us, crush us between its shining teeth. His eyes were winking and his laugh went like toeoeoet toeoet with high shrieks when it would try another trick. Mad steam smothered our fresh air, black smoke escaping from its nose. We rode it, this exhilarating dragon of adventure, we rode it with pride. We started hopping from wagon to wagon. With courage driven by curiosity we climbed on top and got comfortable too, being the locos ourselves. Up there the train swigged a lot more, from side to side you swayed like a poplar in force six winds. Through the 87 tunnels, gassed like downtown Delhi or Tokyo and over the six what extremely high bridges. It shook us like a smoothie, a vegetable milkshake in a blender without seatbelts.



View of the canyon
It was the shits, kicks and tits. It was red, fat and hot. It was smokin', rollin' and goin'. It was IT! And boy those vista's: lush vegetation, cling-on flowers your mum only dreams of for having in her backyard, huge tall cacti in between it all, monkey trees, figs with wild root systems, canyons overgrown, hill sides disappearing, massive waterfalls, all sorts of green spectacle with bright yellow, white and orange fluttering butterflies, millions of them. Big yellow flowers and small purple ones, birds and dragon flies. “O, watch out for that branch, DUCK!”
Huge lakes when we came closer to the flat lands, leaving the canyons behind. And everyone waved. Where ever we passed the people would stop working and wave. For eight hours we tamed this dragon and our jumping hearts, for eight hours we had 360°C views and the best ride ever.



Me on top of the swaying snake
Our fellow hopper invited us along to a friend's cabanas to stay. We implied and hoped off with the sunset, embracing the mosquitos, humidity and steady ground.
It turned out to be exactly worth 20 pesos; our room not bigger than a two person bed with an airco that blew us away, a hole in the ground toilet and bucket shower. The hotdogs with tortillas dinner stuffed us to disbelieve.
We felt alive like never before, but fell asleep like there was no tomorrow.



Making tortillas at a road side cochina
With a 26 hour ride in a nice truck, saying Hasta Luego to Alex who hopped out in Mazatlan and me trying to make our own tortilla's in a roadside cochina for dinner (lesson No. uno in how to make Mexicans laugh) I arrived in Guadalajara, the second biggest city in Mexico with more than four million people.
While being in Puerto Vallarta before, half a year ago, I had met Patrico. He lived in this big city and I was going to visit him.
A historic downtown centered with a huge cathedral, gushing fountains, big buildings and a market with the biggest amount of leather shoes you'll ever see.
It was a shame I hadn't arrived a bit earlier cause Patricio had to go to Puerto Vallarta for work the next day, but I was welcome to stay at his parents though, extremely nice.



The parade with the Virgin Maria. Those round breads were most famous
I lucked out on being here at the right time to see the parade for the Virgin Mary. This statue of the Virgin travels throughout the year to different churches in Guadalajara. During the last leg of her journey she is accompanied by more than two million people coming from all over the country to worship her. For those two days everyone lives in the streets, there is food to be found in every alley and driveway (Especially round breads and sugar cane) and there is dancing non stop. Groups dress up in Indian-like costumes, the nice ones with huge headdresses made out of pretty pheasant feathers. Then they walk from the one church to Bacilica de Zapopan in a massive parade, with the Virgin on a cart in the middle, starting at five am. Most groups nail iron plates to the bottom of their shoes, so when they do their stamping move, every group a different rhythm, it sounds really cool.
It was expressive to see so many Mexicans, all walking in one direction, all eating at the million different stands, some walking bare feet, many praying. Not many gringo's here.



Repairs are being done in the small boat
Patricia and (I'm so very sorry that I forgot your name Patricio's dad) took extremely good care of me. It was so comfortably to come 'home' to a nice house with a comfortable shower after a sticky day, knowledgably people who could advice me where to go and how to get there, who would tell and explain about what I had seen, who took me to different sights, but most of all a place where I had people I could share the experiences of the day with.
Patrica, I would really like to thank you for all the calling and driving to find a new battery charger for my camera, it saved me so much time and hassle, absolutely awesome.
Their daughter, Fernanda, had a relaxing coffee lounge with sweet/sour flower/fruit tea's and I met Patricio's dad's mum and heard many stories from them.



Danny, Corina, Ed and me having dinner
The zoo in town was a whole day worth visiting. On my own I strolled thru this green and very well kept garden, littered with all animals you can think of. I remember this one time in Thailand, where I went to a zoo and halfway thru the speakers announced that a tiger had escaped, if everyone please would hold ground and keep an eye out...



Pregnant and decorated at the baby shower
Time to get my ass to Puerto Vallarta where Ketevara and Ed were waiting.
Only one town was between here and there: Tequila.
Of course I made a stop in this famous town to do a little tour. You never guess who I walk into...Alex, my train-hop buddy. He was just hitching from the coast to Guadalajara today. We had no idea we had picked the same day and luck found us at the same time in the same town when we crossed paths (I hope this will happen once again buddy, just somewhere down south). We took the one hour tour together.
The Sauza distillery was our choice, they showed you the brewing process and let you test the four different types: not aged, which can be Silver or Gold, aged between eight to eleven months and aged more than one year. She also told us that tequila can not age more than forty years, after that the liquid in the barrels would be totally fermented/evaporated. After harvesting the eight to twelve year old fruits (Agave is in the lotus family, not cactus), weighting up to 120 kilos, they get cut into pieces, and cooked in huge ovens for 12 hours or more. Then the pieces get squeezed dry and the liquid gets sterilized and ferments in iron cellos before going into aging barrels, or not.
Ketevara and Ed.



The 100 pound, 8ft sailfish I reeled in
I got there first actually. Ed came a day after me. For two weeks we were trapped in the marina trying to get the little 36ft Pacific Seacrafter that is bringing us thru the warm Pacific waters further south and south and which is my home for a few weeks to come, ready. Ed did a lot of little tid-bit's all around, and I tried to help wherever I could, or at least learn while watching.
De evenings were for good relaxation. Danny was still there, his girlfriend being pregnant, we had some nice dinners, a good massage (my first professional one), I tried to win $800 (How? Maybe someday I will tell you.), Danny and Corina took me to a baby shower where I saw Mexican woman play games and the man waiting patiently outside for several hours,



The 450 pound, 12ft black marlin Nick reeled in
And one day I went fishing with Danny's boat (he has a fishing chartering company). His client, Nick, 23, from Florida was ok with me coming along. It was massive. Fifty miles of shore we dragged the lines (six at one time) until we hooked. And what a catch, Nick reeled in a 450 pound, 12 ft black marling, it was huge, I have never seen a fish that big in my life. It took him an hour to get it on board and he was exhausted afterwards.
I reeled in a 100 pound, 8 ft sailfish, big enough for me. It was a very good day, we had a lot of luck catching those two and three Bonito, all 35 pound, 4ft. It was a good dinner that night.



Ed changing light bulbs in the mast
Well people, enough reading material for a little while. I'm so very sorry that my brother is not up to date and has not even put the September session on. It's such a waste of energy 'cause I can understand that you won't read two stories at ones. Well, Lets hope he is a bit faster this time.
Next months will be full with nothing. The sailing started on the 28th and will be finished the 23rd, that's when Ed has to go back to work...for a little while. He is planning on having his vacation early next year (Jan. or Feb.) so we can sail from where ever we end up (probably somewhere in Elsalvador) to Panama and thru the canal in another six weeks. Sounds good to me!



Off we go
Love live, stay warm or cool and kiss your mum for me.

Have a good one.
Greetz Mathu.