Adventures in the Mexican Sierra Madres

Adventures in the Mexican Sierra Madres

 

January 8, 2002

Iguana on Coconut tree

  A family of five Iguanas live in a hole high on a coconut tree beside our motorhome.  They warm on the south side of the trunk where the afternoon sun strikes.  They are reasonably tame because the American RVers who live here do not pester them.  Some Mexicans would catch and eat them.  Others would take them to the beach where they would pose them for photos by tourists. 

Mazatlan Beach

  

Mazatlan is a fascinating Mexican town with beautiful beaches and a great winter climate -- sunshine and shirt sleeves every day.  The beach water is a little cool for swimming in January, but many natives and tourists swim anyway.  Of course, there are the colorful tourist traps, hotels, restaurants, fishing and RV parks.  Ours must have been sensational about 30 years ago but is now showing its age.  The owner does not invest seriously in upkeep, but it is quiet and the facilities are adequate.  Across the road from the park is the beach.  We can hear the surf at night.  Some campers in the park have returned every year for nearly 30 years.  The sites in other RV parks in the city are crammed so closely together that (it is said) you can hear your neighbor’s heartbeat.

But Mazatlan is not the best birding site in the area.  So we left our motorhome at Mazatlan to climb up the Sierra Madre Occidental to find some exotic Mexican birds such as the Tufted Jay.  We had heard the trip across Hwy. 40 from Mazatlan to Durango was “challenging” and it was.  Leaving town was also a challenge.  The toll road we had driven all the way from the US border ended abruptly.  There were no clear signs informing us of how to best access highway 15 south of Mazatlan.  We somehow guessed correctly.

At one of the main intersections near the airport, we stopped at a stoplight.  The “windshield washing kids” descended on us like a Turkey Vulture to a dead skunk.  I had just washed the windows of our Honda the night before, so they were nearly spotless.  To ensure that my windows needed washing, one kid squirted water with something like chocolate or mud mixed in.  I frantically tried to wave him away, but he was relentless.  When he was half-finished cleaning, the light turned and I left without paying him.  I wanted to pay the poor kid, but if I told you what I wanted to pay him, you would not think me very nice.  Anyway, I stopped, cleaned my window and we continued our journey.  The locals find that it is easier to pay off these petty gangsters than to have them mess up their windows.

Once out of town, we started a slight climb almost immediately through the dry, thorn scrub countryside.   The morning traffic was light and we enjoyed the sights as we passed small villages.  Our first stop carried the unromantic name of  “Panuco Road.”  This rocky road wound steeply up the mountain and carried rather heavy traffic that provided another layer of dust to our clothing every time a vehicle passed.  But the birding was exciting!  The long-tailed Squirrel Cuckoo, Yellow Cacique, and Violet-crowned Parrot highlighted our morning and we added about nine new species to our list.  But we had lots of hard driving ahead for the day, so returned to the highway and continued the climb up the mountain.

Violet-crowned Parrot

 Our main goal was Barranca Rancho Liebre (Ranch Rabbit Canyon) high near the tops of the Sierras.  To get there required some intense driving while avoiding 18-wheel trucks coming into my lane on tight curves.  We hoped that the fools who passed me and the truck in front on a blind curve would not take us with them when they had a head-on accident.   

The scenery changed gradually from scrub brush to pine forest.  As we passed over the 8000-foot crest, a vast, multi-valleyed canyon appeared before us.  I was overwhelmed!  It was a work of art on a grand scale --.well worth the hard drive.  Now the highway wound its way along the side of a long sinuous ridge that is known locally as the Spina del Diablo (Devils’ Backbone).  An auto leaving the road here might tumble a few thousand feet to the bottom of the canyon before coming to a crumpled rest.  I drove carefully.

Sierra Madre Occidental

Red pickup trucks seem to be in great popular demand.  At first, we thought that maybe they were red because they tend to drive at red-hot speeds.  But this theory was disproved when we saw them parked in town and they were still red.

By early afternoon, we found our birding site at Barranca Rancho Liebre.  We parked our car in a handy roadside pull off;  three boys agreed to watch our car and we hiked up a couple of miles along a creek to a rim that separated two humongous canyons on each side.  The climb was steep, so we were breathing hard and heard no birds as we climbed in the shaded valley.  When we finally found the crest, the view was great, but birds were scarce.  We saw an Eastern Bluebird, a Spotted Woodcreeper, and a Brown Creeper.  A breeze on the ridge brought a chill and we decided to descend and hoped we had enough time for the return trip to Mazatlan.  Back at the car, we paid the boys their propina (tip) of a couple of pesos each.

Pat Birding

 

 Then, for some silly reason, we decided that we should see more of the canyon before we left.  As we headed east, away from Mazatlan, we soon realized that there was not really enough time to return to Mazatlan before dark.  So, wishing to avoid driving on Mexican highways after dark, we decided to find a motel somewhere and drive back the next day.  We passed a couple of small motels that the truckers use and decided to continue on till we found a better one.  By now the sun was beginning to set and the red sunlight covered The Sierras with a reddish glow.  We began to realize that the next town of any size was 30 miles away – at least an hour drive and Durango was more than two hours away.  We debated whether to return to the small, cruddy-looking motels or to take our chances on finding a better one further east.  We hoped to find some kind of resort motel in the mountains, but none appeared.  Headlights of oncoming traffic now made the driving more difficult on the narrow, mountain road.  Within about an hour of nighttime driving, we entered the town of El Salto, found a motel, checked out the room and decided it was satisfactory.  The elevation was still about 7000 feet and it was cold.  We double- checked to make sure the room was heated and had a working bath, paid 270 pesos and settled in for the night.

The bed was hard and lumpy, but the room was clean and the bed was covered with heavy blankets.  We hoped for a night of restful sleep but instead were subjected the noise of trucks every time we dozed off.  The main highway passed downhill directly below the hotel and truckers used their exhaust brakes that produce a loud machine-gun noise as they descend.  At about 10:00 P.M. the gas was apparently turned off, so our stove went out.  From then on, we were either too hot or too cold the remainder of the night and sleep was hard to find.  The fried tacos we ate at a small, local restaurant were resistant to digestion but finally settled down after only three Maalox pills.  Nighttime trips to the toilet were cold!  Giggling and talking by folks walking by outside the thin walls were also not the soothing sounds we needed.

Restaurant in El Salto

 

Sometime during the night, Pat nudged me to remind that we had failed to attach “The Club” to the steering wheel to prevent theft.  “Fogetaboutit,” I said.  No way was I going to go out in that cold.  However, we finally got some sleep and the gas was on by morning, so the room warmed while we ate the sweetbread and bananas we had picked up at the local Super-Mini the night before.  The Honda warmed quickly as we drove out of El Salto -- which depends mostly on logging for its livelihood.  Outside of town, on a cliff with seeping springs, a wall of ice held testimony to the nighttime temperatures.

Icy Seep

 

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the air warmed quickly as we turned off the main highway to bird in a local canyon.  Driving maybe 10 miles produced only one Kestrel falcon, but the scenery was excellent.  We drove back along the Spina, stopping often for the grand views.  Then, upon returning to the Barranca Rancho Liebre, we decided to drive up the rough, rocky trail that we had hiked the previous afternoon.  The Honda strained as all four wheels tried to grip the loose rocks and boulders.  About halfway to the top we spied some bird movement and stopped.  We were rewarded with four new lifetime warblers within a few minutes.  Red Warbler, Red-faced Warbler, Crescent-Chested Warbler and Hermit Warbler all gave us excellent views so that identification was relatively easy.  A flock of Stellar and the striking black and white Tufted Jays made an appearance.  In the excitement of seeing so many new birds, the effects of sleep deprivation from the night before disappeared and we were content.

Red Warbler

 

 

The drive back to Mazatlan was relatively uneventful.  We were even undaunted as a small herd of cows crossed the road slowly in front of us.  At night, these cows could have spelled disaster.

Cows on Highway

Back in the RV Park, the experience of the night at El Salto gave us an appreciation for the relative luxury of a comfortable bed in the motorhome.  The food was much more agreeable too!  That night we slept well, content in the knowledge that we had enjoyed an exciting and productive trip.

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