December 26 Cerro Colorado to Batopilas

We were awakened early by the snorting and grunting of the town mascot trying to force his way back into his pen. The big pig almost knocked us off our feet when the gate suddenly gave way. We rolled up our sleeping bags and covered our matted hair with caps, and set out over a rickety foot bridge 30 feet above the Arroyo Cerro Colorado. We followed the centuries-old Spanish royal road along an aqueduct used to mill silver-laden ore. We passed mining ruins containing livestock and plots of corn before finally arriving in Batopilas. Once we arrived at the town shrine, near the bridge to the outside world, we still had to travel more than two kilometers through the narrow riverside village to the municipal square. We took the last of Monse's three rooms on the river and passed the day watching Batopilas Bob, an American ex-patriot from San Diego, play basketball with the local girls' team. As the girls continued to score from three-point range in the last light of the day, we were encouraged to join in the fun, but could only raise our bare feet and whimper, "Mañana." NEXT PAGE