The Copper Canyon - Big Bend Loop: Batopilas
Batopilas
Batopilas is a great little town. It is about a mile long, spread out along one side of the river. It consists of more than 1 street, but not much more. We followed the main street through town, looking for Hotel Mary. When we reached the end of town and hadn’t spotted the hotel, I asked a few locals where it was located. The first two I asked gave me conflicting directions, but finally, the third person I asked was able to direct me correctly. Hotel Mary is on the main street about 1 block before the town square (la plaza). We had ridden right by it, but had failed to notice it. You would expect the locals to know where it was. Maybe it was my pronunciation or something that was throwing them off.
We checked in and they let us park our bikes into the lobby for safety purposes.
We hadn’t eaten since morning and it was about 4 p.m. at this point, so after unloading the bikes and washing up we made a bee-line to the kitchen/restaurant there in the hotel. I order steak ranchero and Uncle got the enchiladas. Again, the food was excellent.
As we were waiting for the food to be cooked a Hispanic woman came into the restaurant and engaged us in conversation. She was from Chicago or Indiana or somewhere in the area (I asked where she was from and she said something about Indiana, then Chicago then some other place I can remember, so I’m still not sure exactly where she lives). In any case, she was very friendly and visited with us during our entire meal. She was kind enough to take our picture too.
She gave her name as L.A., mentioned it was a nickname and then told us her full name in Spanish which consisted of maybe 5-6 words. We just called her L.A. She told us about a local bar, the Nevada, and persuaded us to join her and some locals there once our meal was finished. It was hot and a couple of cervezas frio (cold beers) sounded like a fine idea.
Located behind the door with “cold beer” painted above it we discovered cerveza fria.
Once in the Nevada courtyard, LA introduced us to several people, including Rojillio and Ramiro. Only Rojillio spoke any English and Uncle and my Spanish was not good, so LA and Rojillio facilitated our discussions. Ramiro had on a fine Batopilas shirt and liked country and western music. I just happened to have a Luckeback, TX t-shirt with me and arranged a trade.
LA, Ramiro, & Me after our t-shirt exchange
Uncle and LA enjoying a cold one
The locals were very friendly to the dos gringo touristas and we had a great time visiting with them.
After several cold ones, Uncle and I headed out to wander around Batopilas. It was Sunday night so I didn’t expect much to be happening. As darkness fell on the town, a few people gathered in la plaza. The plaza, or town square, appears to be the natural gathering place for anything that happens in this town. It is a cool place to hang out.
LA had told us she was going out tonight to some party across the river. What she really meant was that she was going to another bar, el Puente Cogange, located next to the river to listen to some local musicians. Batopilas is not all that large and a few hours later, while exploring, Uncle and I stumbled across that place. The local group was playing music and singing and tourists and locals alike were enjoying the show while having a drink. We joined right in to a hearty welcome.
Good music and singing requires dancing.
Arturo, lead singer (actually the only singer in this musical group), had a fine baritone voice.
Arturo, Rich, and Rojillio. In case you are having a hard time seeing the three of us look to the right of the tall, blonde German gal
Arturo could sing and dance at the same time, which the tall, blonde German gal found interesting cause she spent the entire evening dancing with Arturo (not that there is anything wrong with that). When they weren’t dancing, he would sing for her.
That’s all I’m going to say about that. What happens in Batopilas, stays in Batopilas.
The musical trio of the evening. I’m thinking the guy in the cowboy hat might have had a lot to drink, but I’m not sure.
Puente Colgante, the den in iniquity, exposed to the light of morning
So ended our first, and only, night in Batopilas. We had enjoyed a fantastic ride down into the canyon and then a wonderful afternoon of food, new friendship, and discovery, and then a night of drunken debauchery. (Actually there might have been some debauchery around somewhere but neither Uncle or I participated, scouts honor.) Tomorrow brought a major change in plans, but I think it the trade off was well worth it.
More to follow…