October 25, 2006
Los Mochis - Chihuahua 6:00am – 9:20pm
Chihuahua Pacific “First Class Train”

Pictures from this trip can be found HERE (Pages 5 & 6)


The idea of building a railroad from Chihuahua to the Pacific Ocean got its start in 1871. In 1880 the Mexican government granted rights to build the railroad to Albert Kinsey Owen, an American described by some as an industrialist and by others as a dreamer. The history of this effort is interesting, and best presented here by clicking on the link provided. Suffice to say construction of the entire 408 mile rail bed between Chihuahua and Los Mochis was not completed until 1961, ninety-one years later. No doubt, the primary obstacle was the Sierra Madre itself. To conquer it, tracks were laid across 37 bridges and through 86 tunnels, including a circular tunnel. It is certainly one of the most dramatic rail journeys in North America and one that I’ve been looking forward to doing again since I first rode from Chihuahua to Los Mochis in 1984. Back then, passenger train service was provided by the government owned and operated National Railways of Mexico. Unfortunately, all passenger rail service in Mexico ceased operating in the mid-1990s. In 1997, the Chihuahua Pacific line was privatized and purchased by a company called Ferrocarriles Mexicanos, or Ferromex. The old passenger cars were refurbished and service resumed on the Chihuahua Pacific route in 1998. So far as I know, this route offers the only scheduled passenger train service in all of Mexico.

I had heard that the best direction to ride this train is from west to east, or from Los Mochis to Chihuahua. The Sierra Madre rises very gradually from the Pacific. Heading eastbound out of Los Mochis allows one to enjoy in broad daylight the long climb through the verdant valleys and rugged canyons into the western Sierra Madre, much of which is obscured by darkness for those making the trip in a westerly direction. The only downside is the 6:00am departure. Still, after my long day of getting from San Diego to Tijuana to Culiacan to Los Mochis, I had no problem falling asleep by 10:30pm.

4:30am sure comes early. Too early, if you ask me. Had I been able to camp out at the station like I did when I last rode this train back in 1984, I could have slept another hour. These days only Indians are allowed to camp overnight at the station. When the taxi dropped me off at about 5:30am, I could see perhaps a dozen of them, easily identifiable by their colorful blankets. Most of them looked to be still asleep, too. Lucky Indians! Then again, they’d likely be taking the Second Class train that departs Los Mochis at 7:00.

The Los Mochis train station has had a complete face life since I last passed through here twenty-two years ago. The new station is clean, spacious and brightly lit. About twenty passengers, most of them foreigners, were already gathered in the main lounge awaiting the 6:00am departure. I heard German, Australian and American accents. The load is often light out of Los Mochis because many people, especially tour groups, spend the night before departure in the town of El Fuerte, located about fifty miles east. As I mentioned earlier, the primary advantage of departing from El Fuerte is the more leisurely 8:30am departure.

Although it is possible to purchase tickets for this train in advance – either by the railroad's website or a toll free number in the US or Mexico – I was told that because this was the slow season, I could just as easily purchase my ticket at the station. Just to be safe however, I called about ten days before departure to make sure there weren’t any last minute groups or individuals who collectively might have filled the train to near capacity. There weren’t however, so I strolled up to the ticket window and plunked down the equivalent of $134.00 USD for my First Class ticket. Back in 1984, I also rode First Class. The fare then was $14.00.

It’s worth noting here that a Second Class ticket costs half the price of the First Class ticket. The differences between the two trains are as follows:

 Seating on the Second Class train is in cars that once were used for First Class. The seats are really no more or less comfortable than the current First Class seats.

 The Second Class train has no diner, though there is a snack car where drinks and packaged snacks are sold. At most station stops, locals come aboard with baskets of hot and cold food for sale.

 The Second Class train makes stops in most of the small towns along the way, so the overall journey can take one to two hours longer.

Just prior to actually purchasing my ticket, I was informed that today’s First Class train would have no diner. Yes, there would be a bar car, but the only food available would be sandwiches. Well unless you’re planning to spend most of your trip in the bar car, this pretty much would turn the First Class train into a second class experience. I asked if there would be any reduction in the price of the ticket. No. Had I not had another early morning start out of Chihuahua the next morning, I would have saved $67.00 and taken the later train. Still, I couldn’t afford to arrive in Chihuahua at midnight, so Second Class it was. At First Class prices.

To make matters worse, there was no food or coffee available in or near the station. Adding insult to injury, there’d be no coffee or food available onboard the train until an hour after departure. At this point I gave some long hard thought as to why I was riding this train. Yes, I was looking forward to enjoying the bar and restaurant cars, but the real attraction was the crossing through the rugged Sierra Madre Mountains. Since the company had not also rerouted the train around the mountains, I still had something to look forward to. It just annoys me to pay good money for what’s represented as a premium service and instead receive something less.

The call to board came at 5:50am. Seats were assigned by the conductor upon boarding the car, so I asked for and received a window seat in the first row. A German couple who’d originally been assigned non-reclining seats at the rear of the train ended up sitting across the aisle from me. However, the process of getting their new seats was nothing if not convoluted. The conductor carries a sheet of paper with an outline of all the seats in each car. As seats are assigned, he makes a mark beside the seat to show it as occupied, and then hands out a boarding pass appropriately marked. This couple went back to the conductor to change their seat not once, not twice but three times before finally being assigned unoccupied seats. It wasn’t a case of people ignoring their assigned seats either because each time the conductor came with them to the newly assigned seats to make sure that they truly were occupied by the correct people. How does one screw up such an ostensibly simple system? I’m thinking this is a pretty rinky-dink operation so far. Or a dyslexic conductor.

Surprise! Departure from Los Mochis was on time! As it was still dark however, there wasn’t much to see so I reclined my seat and read for a bit. During the next half hour a steady flow of railroad staff moved briskly throughout the cars. This included the green jacketed conductor, white shirted car porters and a little guy in dressed in black fatigues who wore an automatic pistol on his hip. I’m at a loss to figure out what they were doing since ours was the only car occupied and the bar car wouldn’t be opening until 7:00am.

Once 7 o’clock did roll around, a small crowd of thirsty and hungry passengers wasted little time in heading one car forward to the bar car. The coffee was on and ready to pour, though juice, sodas and alcoholic beverages were available as well. I watched as a Bloody Mary was made with vodka, watery tomato juice, some Worcestershire Sauce and pepper. No, thanks. As for food, the choices were between a ham & cheese sandwich or a plain cheese sandwich.

The “cook”, a heavyset young fellow in pants and a plain white T-shirt, seemed somewhat taken aback when orders were immediately placed for sandwiches. He’d been seated at a table at the back of the car chatting with another member of the staff. Judging from the amount of time it took to prepare and serve our sandwiches, no prep work had been done in the hour leading up to the bar car opening. What did we get for this crew? A bunch of trainees? On a positive note, the sandwich included lettuce, tomato and onion, was presented quartered on a plate with potato chips, and was pretty good. Coffee and the sandwich ran about $6.00 USD.

By the time we rolled into El Fuerte, the sun had risen on what looked to be a very nice day. There were a few scattered clouds about but the heavy rain from the evening before was nowhere in evidence. About thirty people were waiting to board the train in El Fuerte, including a big loud group of Americans tourists.

Shortly after departing El Fuerte, we began to climb into the foothills of the Sierra Madre. It was a very gradual climb as rail beds generally never exceed more than about a 2% grade. In fact, as this map clearly shows, it took us about 270km or 165 miles to climb 2,400 meters or 7,500 feet from El Fuerte to the summit just beyond Divisadero. Along the way we were treated to an impressive climb through endless steep walled valleys carved out by the Rio Fuerte. Fuerte translates to strong in English, and today the river’s name was particularly apt. The heavy rains of the day before had the river running higher than normal, and some of the rapids we passed by were quite spectacular.

By now, more then a few people had begun to crowd the vestibules or entryways at the ends of each car. For anyone desiring good photographs of the journey, the vestibules are the place to be. The top halves of the Dutch doors can be opened separately from the bottom half, thus allowing photographers a chance to lean out the window a bit and get better pictures of the surrounding landscape alongside or ahead of the train. Another added benefit is no glare or reflection from the windows.

As the scenery became more dramatic, competition for window space in the vestibules began to heat up, though it stopped just short of being fierce. Most people were pretty good about sharing their time at the open windows. The one exception was a rather physically imposing woman from Germany who refused to budge from her spot in the forward vestibule. Nobody ever challenged her for her spot, but she never volunteered to offer it either, despite everyone around her doing so. Even to her husband had to squeeze in behind her once someone had vacated their space for him.

One interesting hazard for those who happen to have vestibule space is trackside foliage. Because the railroad hadn’t put a lot of effort into cutting back trees and bushes alongside the tracks, the possibility of being smacked in the face by passing foliage was very real. One man lost his hat from a passing bush.

Average speed was about 25 mph, though at times we got up to about twice that. As the train made its way ever higher into the mountains, we began to pass over or through an increasing number of bridges and tunnels. The longest bridge was over the Rio Fuerte and according to my brochure measured 1,837 feet long. From an engineering standpoint however, the most amazing portion of the trip was at a box canyon near a place called Temoris.

Picture traveling eastbound and entering a U-shaped box canyon on the right side of the canyon floor. The only way out of the canyon is to go back the way you came or bore straight ahead into and through the canyon wall until you find open land again somewhere east of the box canyon. The tunnel that does just that is located 200 feet above the canyon floor on the left-hand side of the canyon. Your mission Mr. Phelps, should you decide to accept it, is to find a way to get your train up to that tunnel entrance 200 feet above you on the other side of the canyon.

Why isn’t that tunnel located on the canyon floor, you ask? Construction of the tunnel was started from the east side heading west. Through an apparent miscalculation, the original builders broke through to daylight 200 feet above the floor of the box canyon. Oops…

Unfortunately, the length of the canyon coupled with the height of the descent necessary to reach the canyon floor made a straight downhill grade along the left side of the canyon (right side if you’re heading west) impossible due to the steepness of the grade. Remember that trains – especially long and heavy freight trains – can’t climb more than a 2-3% grade.

The problem was ultimately solved as follows: Eastbound trains entering the canyon on the right side make a complete U-turn at the end of the canyon and start climbing up the left side as they’re heading west, out of the canyon. Well before reaching the entrance to the canyon, the train enters a tunnel that bores to the right into the mountain. That tunnel continues climbing into the mountain far enough (the tunnel is over 3000 feet long) that it can itself make a complete 180 degree turn, climbing all the while, and exit the train now heading eastbound again high up along the left side of the canyon. The train then continues on at a leisurely grade until it enters the tunnel 200 feet above the canyon floor that will take it through to the other side of the mountains.

Hopefully that explanation will make sense to all of you. In any event, it was a lot of fun to ride through it all except for the extended amount of time in the long tunnels when darkness combined with exhaust from the engine made further existence in the vestibules untenable.

Aside from the Temoris canyon and tunnel system, the next highlight would be our stop at Divisadero where we’d be able to disembark and take in a vista of the Copper Canyon. Otherwise, the scenery along the route, while very impressive, doesn’t change much. So – having already seen four hours worth of rivers and canyons, I decided to pay a visit to the bar car to partake of a fine Mexican beer. Or two. Or Three. Though I would not rate the choices available (Corona and Pacifico) as being amongst Mexico’s finest beers, all of the Pacificos that I drank were nicely chilled and very refreshing. And, at $3.00 USD per bottle, the price was acceptable, though high by local standards. It’s worth noting that back in the eighties when the railroads were run by the government, one could purchase endless cans of Tecate for the equivalent price of $0.70 cents a can.

Rather than dine on another Ham and Cheese sandwich, I decided to wait until we arrived at Divisadero where I would take my chances with the local fare. Although many visitors to Mexico have concerns about subjecting their pristine digestive tracts to food bought from street vendors, I generally find that a little common sense will go a long way towards determining whether street food is reasonably safe. Mainly, I’m looking for freshly cooked food where the ingredients have been appropriately stored. As in refrigerated or on ice.

At Divisidero the train stops for fifteen minutes to allow riders time to walk down to a viewpoint overlooking the Urique Canyon portion of the Copper Canyon system. The overlook is only a short walk downhill from the train and the view is quite pretty.

The Copper Canyon is actually comprised of five different canyons that combined are four times larger than the Grand Canyon. Living throughout the canyon are Tarahumara Indians. Isolated in the canyons for centuries, the Tarahumara culture has been traced to the Mayans. Their lives today are really not much different than they were thousands of years ago. During the winter many still stay in warm caves deep in the canyon. In summer they move to the high plateaus of the upper canyon to tend to their fields. As there are no roads in the canyon, the “Taras” travel on foot. As one might imagine, climbing up, down and around the canyon has resulted in an incredible level of fitness and endurance. Indeed, the Taras are known to hold barefoot races that can last days. During our stop at Divisadero, Tarahumara women approached the train to sell baskets and food to the riders. Interestingly, they never boarded the train but instead stood outside the vestibules. Cash and baskets were passed back and forth through the windows.

Along the walkway down to the overlook point, I passed through a gauntlet of women selling a variety of baskets, blankets and assorted knick-knacks. Most of them had their wares spread out on blankets on the ground and I was reminded of the scene on Shakedown Street at most any Dead Concert back in the eighties.

The Copper Canyon may be larger than the Grand Canyon, but it is nowhere near as colorful.
Whereas the Grand Canyon exposes millions of years of colorful sedimentary rock, in Urique Canyon the canyon walls are a mixture of exposed grayish rock and low green brush and trees. It’s pretty, but not quite so grand as its northern neighbor. After a few minutes, I headed back up the hill to the train, stopping along the way to purchase a couple of crude “tacos” from one of the food vendors. I say “taco” inasmuch as the freshly cooked meat, onions and cheese were placed atop a small thick tortilla that was then folded in half. They cost twenty pesos each – again, expensive by Mexican standards – but they were a savory departure from the ham and cheese sandwiches being served on board the train.

Shortly after departing Divisadero, we reached Ojitos where the train reaches it's highest point, a little more than 8,000 feet above sea level. There are not many passenger trains on the planet that climb over 7,500 feet over the course of their journeys. The new train service to Lhasa, Tibet might, depending upon its starting elevation.

The rest of the trip was quite literally all downhill. I spent a fair amount of time in the lounge car where I had a good time chatting with some of the American tourists, many of whom were travelling with a birding expedition. Having worked many years in National Parks, I’ve known a few birders and these folks were right up there with the most tenacious of them, some having compiled life lists of over 800 birds. Not surprisingly, I met two couples who had been to Alaska on a cruise. What does continue to surprise me is how many people I’ve met who’ve cruised to Alaska but never headed into the Interior. In other words, they cruised up the Inside Passage and through Glacier National Park to Seward, then immediately flew home from Anchorage.

Darkness fell about 7:30pm. Many of the foreign passengers had disembarked in Divisadero or Creel and by the time we arrived in Chihuahua at 9:45pm, there were only about a dozen of us onboard. I hefted my pack, bid adios to the car porter and stepped off the train into the warm Chihuahua night.

This train is not the luxurious experience that the website would have you believe. The cars, though refurbished, are noisy and not particularly well ventilated. The lounge car was pleasant though the service was not particularly inspired. Regardless, the incredible journey through the heart of the Sierra Madre more than makes up for any shortcomings in equipment or service. I highly recommend this trip though knowing what I know now, I’d probably take the second class option if I were to do it again.

Directly across the street from the Chihuahua Station is the Casa De Chihuahua, a hostel that just opened about six months ago. Philippe, the owner, was at the station with a big sign. He was expecting two visitors from Sweden, but they evidently must have been coming in on the second train. As such, he escorted me over to the hostel, checked me in for the very affordable rate of just $120.00 MEP per night (about $11.00 USD) and gave me a brief tour of the facilities. Two ten bed dorms, one private bedroom, four bathrooms with showers and the large common room. A continental breakfast would be available in the morning.

I spent the remained of the evening chatting with Philippe and three other visitors from New Zealand and Canada. Philippe was originally from France but had lived in Senegal, Playa del Carmen and Switzerland. He’d been a teacher in France but now traveled the world with his wife and two children. His next adventure was to open an additional hostel in northwest Australia. Ah, the life…