The Urique River rises in the Sierra Madre Mountains in northwestern Mexico and flows west to the Sea of Cortez cutting a huge gorge known as the Barranca de Cobre, or Copper Canyon. This canyon, also known as the Grand Canyon of Mexico, is larger and deeper than its namesake in the U.S. However, its walls are jungle covered, and the river at the bottom is relatively small. There is a railroad from Los Mochis on the coast to the logging town of Creel high in the mountains, and then on to Chihuahua in the interior. The railroad climbs from the coastal plain via a series of spectacular bridges and tunnels, then runs along the northern side of the canyon, bringing travelers from around the world to modern hotels along the rim. Tourists look down into the hazy depths of the canyon from stuffed chairs behind railings of varnished pine. Few descend into the canyon.

The river can he reached from the Umira bridge a few hours drive southwest of Creel. From the bridge the river flows north, cutting deeply into the mountains, first a gash with vertical sides, then a V-shaped valley, until it turns west in a spectacular gorge called the Great Bend From one spot in the Great Bend you can see the overlook at the Divisadero railway station, and, with glasses, the tourists looking down, almost a vertical mile. After the Great Bend, the river widens, then narrows to pass through the Barranca de Cobre and Barranca de Urique, then widens before reaching the village of Unque.

In 1995 Bev and I and friends from California entered the canyon a few mile west of the Great Bend, and floated down to Urique in five days. We used wetsuits, lifejackets, and helmets. We put our clothes and other gear in waterproof bags, and those inside our packs, so the packs became a float. We found we could run down the rapids with hands on the pack, letting it go before us, guiding us through the rocks, and protecting us when we went over ledges. We knew one of the members of the 1975 party which was the first to go all the way from the Umira bridge to Urique in one push. We also had the written account of Dick Griffith and his wife Isabelle, who first explored the canyon in 1952.

Our friend in the 1975 party said we had missed the fun part, the upper part where the river was cutting most steeply, just below the Umira bridge. Dick Griffith's account bore this out; he and Isabelle had spent fourteen days reaching La Purissima mine, half way to the Great Bend. Huge boulders jam the canyon. The water flows among the boulders, cascading between them in drops and boiling pools, sometimes flowing beneath them, sometimes disappearing into suckholes; the ultimate nightmare of the riverman. Dick's party had started with rubber rafts but ended up walking and building driftwood rafts to cross the river or pass a section where there were no banks. One day Dick built five rafts. The 1975 party had used one man rubber rafts; they put their packs in with the straps up, and could put the whole load on their backs when they needed to walk. They had gone from Umira to Urique in ten days. We thought we could maintain that pace with our technique.

Bev and I tried in 1997. The first day we camped on a gravel bar just above Red Rock falls. That night it started raining and rained all the next day. The river started rising. We moved our camp up the bank. It rained most of the night, and finally snowed. In the morning the river was a muddy brown torrent filling the canyon from side to side. A project that looked a little iffy to start with now looked very dangerous. We climbed out.

Steve Allen is a well known guide and author of several books on the canyons of southern Utah. We had met Steve at a wilderness meeting and talked about our 1994 trip. He believed he could find people who would he interested in the Urique, should we ever want to go back. This sounded wonderful. Steve agreed to organize our party for 1998.

We agreed to meet in Chihuahua at a local hotel. I had engaged a driver and ford suburban to drive us to Creel and then on to put in at the Umira Bridge. We had a number of breakdowns along the way. Parts for a suburban are not that easy to find, but, everyone saves everything in Mexico, so, somewhere there must be an alternator for a suburban. In fact, in a barrell in the back of a log shed, there was one! Creel was assured. That evening we arrived at the Pension Creel, where Bev and I had stayed several times before.

The following day Pedro Palma drove the heavy suburban through the pine and oak covered hills south of Creel. Pedro had met us at the airport in Chihuahua and driven through the night to Creel. We enjoyed a few hours sleep at Creel, re-entered the suburban, and now approached our first look down into the river canyon. Pedro seemed to know everybody, and regaled us with stories of other groups he had guided. It seems a fair number of parties try this river, but most turn back quickly. We were concerned with the amount of water we would find in the river. El nino had resulted in an unusually large amount of snow in the Sierra, but the weather was still cold and the snow was not melting fast as yet. Topping a ridge, we looked down on the Incised Meanders, two high rock towers in consecutive river bights of more than 180 degrees The river looping between them was a series of emerald pools, boulders, and gravel bars. We would have the low flow we needed.

Pedro left us amid all our gear at the bridge. He would pick us up thirteen days later in Urique. Twelve days of food plus all our river gear plus the camp gear plus some ropes and miscellaneous climbing gear adds up to a lot of weight, something we realized when we tried walking down the loose slope to the river. We wiggled into our wet suits, carefully packed the food and clothes into water proof bags, and those into our packs, and entered the water. It was about one o'clock.

We had not done any trips with Steve Allen, but we were very aware of his guidebooks and many trips in the canyonlands of Utah. The slot canyons tend to be very deep, narrow, and filled with cold water. So the idea of swimming with your pack was not new to Steve. He was also very experienced at rapelling and negotiating the huge dropoffs frequently found in Utah. We hoped this knowledge would not be needed. His endurance and determination were legendary.

Don Murch was a canyoneering friend of Steve's and leader of numerous Sierra Club trips in Alaska. I had used his information in descending Larry's Canyon in Utah, and was very impressed. Larry's Canyon has a long "bombay" section; you must chimney this section horizontally high up where your legs can reach; if you go lower your legs will not reach and you will fall. This requires some confidence.

Joan Hoffmann was another of Steve's canyoneering friends of many years. John Eastman, Joan's cousin, was a young tiger on many of those trips. Tom Browne was another experienced canyoneer.

Pedro Palma drove the heavy suburban through the pine and oak covered hills south of Creel. Pedro had met us at the airport in Chihuahua and driven through the night to Creel. We enjoyed a few hours sleep at Creel, re-entered the suburban, and now approached our first look down into the river canyon. Pedro seemed to know everybody, and regaled us with stories of other groups he had guided. It seems a fair number of parties try this river, but most turn back quickly. We were concerned with the amount of water we would find in the river. El nino had resulted in an unusually large amount of snow in the Sierra, but the weather was still cold and the snow was not melting fast as yet. Topping a ridge, we looked down on the Incised Meanders, two high rock towers in consecutive river bights of more than 180 degrees The river looping between them was a series of emerald pools, boulders, and gravel bars. We would have the low flow we needed.

Pedro left us amid all our gear at the bridge. He would pick us up thirteen days later in Urique. Twelve days of food plus all our river gear plus the camp gear plus some ropes and miscellaneous climbing gear adds up to a lot of weight, something we realized when we tried walking down the loose slope to the river. We wiggled into our wet suits, carefully packed the food and clothes into water proof bags, and those into our packs, and entered the water. It was about one o'clock.

People floated on their backs, and on their stomachs, feet first, and head first, experimenting. Most of us had not done anything like this before. The idea of going with the current, using the channels frequently found by the banks, being one with the water, was new. The idea of going head first through the rapids following your pack was especially new. However, all agreed it was more fu to float along looking up at the trees than hop among the boulders along the banks under the huge loads we were carrying.

Someone noted Pedro's van on the road far above us. We were sure he watched. Did he have misgivings? Did we?

Don Murch and I were the first to reach Red Rock falls. It really was not a water fall at all. Rather, the river cut a deep steep groove into the reddish shale and shot through a hole under an arch into a pool full of rocks. It was not a place to try and swim. We talked in the sun and enjoyed the beautiful rock forms carved by the water while we waited for the others to catch up. Don was from Bolinas, a small town an hour north of San Francisco. He had been a commercial fisherman. He now was an inspector of organic farms for the state, and an organic farmer himself. He also knew construction and did jobs for his neighbors, as well as run trips in Alaska for the Sierra Club. Truly a man of many skills.

Pools changed to boulder fields. Huge walls came into view.

From here we had a number of options. We needed to be in Urique in six days. Walking over the mountains in that time would be easy. We could continue down river to the Great Bend and climb the canyon wall to Divisadero and be picked up there. That also would be easy. The consensus was to continue down river, but by a substantial trail along the cliffs. This trail would avoid swimming a narrows and take us eventually to a bridge. Everyone was sick of swimming. We shouldered our packs and started up the trail, picking a few lemons off the trees at the start. The trail was well constructed; part of the old silver trail used to transport millions in gold and silver from Batopillas to Creel and out to the coffers of Spain.

However, it was steep, the packs heavy, and the sun hot. We stopped occasionally, especially where there was a choice of paths. Bev was having a hard time with this. Carrying a huge pack in the hot sun is not her cup of tea. After awhile the trail leveled, then descended, and wandered throughcultivated fields. There was a nice firm on the other side, and a solid looking dwelling. I had not taken off the bottom of my wet suit, and was getting really hot. I waited for Bev; the others were out of sight. After awhile we caught up with them having lunch in a grove of oak trees. I wondered how long they had waited.

The walking on the river bank was not bad; much of it was along ledges or gravel bars. Occasionally one had to scramble over a rock, or make a little class three move to get from one ledge system to the next higher or lower. Again Bev dropped behind and I waited. The other folks were really charging. Don came back to get Bev's pack.

When we reached camp I talked with Steve, pointing out Bev and I could not keep up this pace. It turned out some of the folks really wanted to try to complete the full trip to Urique. This could only be done by walking the banks in the middle section, and by working full days. So we decided to split in the morning.

Bev and I would climb out at Divisadero; the others would try to reach Urique. We would drive to Urique with Pedro and meet them Saturday morning as planned. If they didn't make it, we would be there to make the necessary calls and airline arrangements. This was a sensible decision, especially as Bev and I had already done the lower part of the canyon. They would have days eight through thirteen to reach Urique in time to meet us Saturday morning. That was six days to cover what had taken us five in 1995. But they would need to hike the whole middle section in that time also. Possible, but challenging.