Stepping out of the El Chepe Express train at the tumbleweed station of Divisadero, I take a short walk to the “mirador” viewing point of Mexico’s little-known Copper Canyon. There are no crowds, just a few artisan souvenir stands, and a low mesh barrier separating me from the most unexpected, spectacular vista I have ever seen.
Plummeting down below is an endless, dramatic panorama of jagged, rocky canyons, steep ravines, lush valleys and tumbling waterfalls. A natural landscape with its biodiversity perfectly preserved, this is a site virtually untouched by tourist development.
While not as famous as America’s monumental Grand Canyon, Mexico’s Copper Canyon is four times larger and a much deeper network of dozens of interconnecting gorges. A journey here offers a distinct and genuinely sustainable experience for the intrepid traveller who arrives by taking one of the world’s great train rides into the heart of the daunting Sierra Madre Occidental mountain range.
Compared to the Grand Canyon’s quarter of a million sightseers, Copper Canyon barely sees 25,000 visitors making it to these deep, isolated barrancas. Exploring the wild barrancas is an adventure in itself, but also affords a privileged glimpse into the semi-nomadic life of the indigenous Tarahumara tribe, a fiercely independent people famed for their mystical endurance running.
Flying into Mexico City, I find the frenetic international airport abuzz with holidaymakers rushing for flights to classic destinations, such as the beaches of Cancun and Acapulco, or the ancient Mayan temples of Palenque and Chichen Itza.
However, I am heading north towards the Texas border, to the little-visited city of Chihuahua, the starting point for my Copper Canyon adventure. This is bona fide cowboy city, encircled by the rolling foothills of the Sierra Madre. Sightseeing is swift; a splendid colonial baroque cathedral built by the Spaniards in the 18th century and a fascinating museum dedicated to the famous local son, Pancho Villa, the revolutionary bandit leader whose wanted notices declare “The Man Who Dared Invade The USA”.
For shopping, it is impossible to resist the numerous specialist stores stocked with classic ranching paraphernalia such as cowboy hats, boots and embroidered shirts. Chihuahua may be famous for naming the world’s smallest dog, bred by the Toltec tribes for ceremonies, but it has another claim to fame as the embarkation point for the ambitious Chihuahua Pacifico Railroad.
Starting in 1891, the El Chepe line is an incredible feat of engineering. Taking 90 years to complete, it has 650km of precarious winding tracks running up and down the vertiginous Copper Canyon before reaching Los Mochis on the Gulf of California. The conductor blows the final whistle signalling all aboard just after dawn, and as we pull out of Chihuahua station, my adventure begins.
The first destination is the town of Creel, where the mountains begin to rise towards the entrance of the Copper Canyon. It is a slow six-hour ride, but there is always something going on as the train pulls in at every village.
Tarahumara women in traditional multicoloured layered skirts jump on board, balancing babies in a sling, while food vendors offer everything from grilled sweetcorn, juicy beef tacos and spicy stuffed chillies. The scenery shifts from wide-open desert to farmland dotted with grazing cattle, before dense pine forests take over as we climb above 2,000 metres.
I join the crowds heading to Creel, a boisterous adventure travel hub with hostels, hacienda hotels and a host of nature excursions that ensure at least a day's stay. The land around the town is still owned by the Tarahumara, and there is a small entry fee for each attraction that generates some income for the locals.
Right now, this is not an official national park, so while some hike or explore by mountain bike, most opt for ostentatious ATVs that look as though they came straight from Mad Max or Transformers. The state government is already studying plans to make the site more eco-responsible.
The valleys surrounding Creel are marked by tall volcanic rocks and boulders that, over the centuries, have been eroded into strange sculptures, some resembling giant mushrooms, others monks and frogs. One trail leads to a waterfall, another to a tranquil lake surrounded by fragrant fir trees, while an ancient Catholic mission stands as testament to the evangelical zeal of the conquistadores, who never quite managed to conquer the traditional beliefs of the indigenous people.
The next day, I board a very different version of El Chepe that begins the long journey to the Pacific. El Chepe Express was created in 2018 to cater to tourists drawn to Copper Canyon. It is a much more luxurious experience compared to the local train, with a gourmet dining car and panoramic glass ceiling, while the final carriage has a bracing open terrace offering breathtaking views.
There are fewer stops too, though the downside is that the Express is far too expensive for the Tarahumara, so travellers miss out on a colourful slice of local life. After a couple of hours, we arrive in Divisadero, where almost everyone disembarks. Since the opening 15 years ago of the Parque Barrancas, a spectacular adventure and nature park, this is where everyone goes to experience the natural wonder of Copper Canyon.
There are still only a couple of hotels here, but the grand El Mirador, a pink palace imperiously perched atop a craggy outcrop with spectacular vistas, is the perfect base. Those spending a few days here can directly explore the canyons by hiking, extreme mountain biking or horseback, accompanied by guides who take you to astonishing lookout points where there is not a single other person in sight.
With less time, I spend a day exploring the excursions in the adventure park. Unlike in Creel, there is a clear effort here to create a more sustainable experience, from water and waste recycling to encouraging respect for the Tarahumara, who continue to live in the barrancas, instead of reducing them to photo opportunities for tourists.
The easiest way to grasp the enormity of the canyons is by taking the cable car, one of the longest in the world. There is thrilling but safely supervised rock climbing along the sheer cliff walls, while the seated ZipRider sends you soaring 2.5km across a deep canyon. The most hair-raising experience is undoubtedly the Tirolesas, a series of seven interconnected steel cables where, suspended securely in a harness, you seemingly fly across the barrancas. I am talking speeds of between 100kph and 135kph.
Admittedly, this was one feat too far for me. Although, as the park's director Sergio “Tiny” Almada notes: “The greatest pleasure of working here is to see the delight, the sheer wonder and amazement in people’s faces when they first see the immense scale of the barrancas and then pluck up the courage to try our adventures. For sure, the Tirolesas is terrifying, but afterwards everyone realises they will never experience anything like this again in their life.”
After all the exertion, it is a relief to settle back on board El Chepe for the final six-hour journey to Los Mochis. While some passengers disembark to explore the canyons, the best views come from the carriage itself, especially between Bahuichivo and El Fuerte, where the train plunges deep into the barranca, surrounded by steep rocky walls, before descending from the mountains towards the coastal plains near Los Mochis.
It's an unforgettable journey, one that I promise myself I will re-embark upon, but only when I pluck up enough courage to launch myself on the Tirolesas again.
