It started off simple. Get to the train station, load the boats, and head on down the Setentrion River in the Sierra Madre of North-Central Mexico for a first descent (this river had never been attempted).
As we were cruising along, we got hit by a huge thunderstorm, and a landslide blocked one of the tunnels we were going through. For the better part of an hour, the train kept ramming the pile of debris in attempt to break through. We were all choking on carbon monoxide the whole time, while sitting in a dark tunnel.
When we got to the put-in, the tacos never tasted so good!
We camped at the train station that night, and got swarmed by every kid in the village.
The run was going to be 4 days. On day 2, we put in and only made it down river about 6 out of 34 kms that we were trying to make it (about half of that was portaging around heinous rapids.)
We set up camp on a nice beach, and got swarmed with sand flies the entire afternoon. Our stove got swindled the night before by the native kids, so we made a fire and gobbled down some freeze dried dinner (yuck-o).
This is what the camp looked like before the flood.
This is what it looked like the next morning.
Seth´s account….
I laid in my bivy sack, and felt sheets of water pounding over me. I was comfortable with a tarp proped up by a stick hanging over head that kept out around half the water. We knew the river was on the rise, but never thought that it would come up to our camp, which was around 10 verticle feet above the river. I slept a little, and suddenly felt a surge of water and current come over me. I felt the euphoria of weightlessness as if I was floating away. As I struggled to unzip my bivy and swim free, I yelled as loud as I could ¨boyz….we are f!$ked!!!!¨ I realized that I would not make a very good contender on the TV show Fear Factor. I was so discombobulated, tweaked and turned around, I couldn´t for the life of me free the zipper as I swirled out of control in the current. Thank goodness for my Thermarest which kept me afloat. I yelled for help, and seconds later I felt Joe grab a hold of me, and together, we were able to rip the zipper open.
It was pitch black. I remember scrambling to find my dry bag that had my still camera, Video Camera, Passport and Satellite phone that was floating away. Luckily, we got that. It was still a monsoon like down pour out, and the lightning flashes revealed a river 3x the width we had experienced that day….raging, completely out of control. I was in full survival mode, as I yelled to the boys ¨Run for the hills, the big one could still be coming!!!!¨ My head lamp was gone, I scratched my way up the banks with bare feet in my underwear. My camera bag, bivy and drenched down sleeping bag was all I could salvage.
Tyler had his Eagles Nest Hammock and a tarp strung up in a tree, and was situated the highest above the river. Soup yelled ¨Tyler, Tyler are you OK—Get UP!!!!¨ We made it over to where he was, and he was standing there stark naked in his flip flops.
¨No worries dude, I got the boats (Barely)!¨ We all gathered around his tent, and sat 4 of us across his hammock. We were laughing, and happy to be alive. Ty´s camp was around 60 feet up from the river that day, and it was now beach front, with surges and waves splashing up at us as we dangled from the tree. Joe jumped in the river and retrieved Rocky´s 2 liter jug of wine. We drank through the night. The river jumped up 15 feet in only a couple hours, and was beginning to subside.
The next day, we tallyed the gear. Joe lost one of his dry bags and a paddle. Rocky lost all of his kayak gear. Besides a few random items, all seemed to be saved. We climbed an enormous talus slope up to the RxR tracks, just as the maintence crew finished digging out a landslide directly above camp. This was the flood of the year. There were over 10 landslides all along the train route above the river. We hitched aboard the cleanup train, and traveled along as they dug out all the lanslides on our way back to Creel. We canceled all the other rivers, packed the rig, and headed for the beach!!!!!
James ¨Rocky¨Contos…aka the Junk Show.
Our best advice….. If you ever show up to the put’in, and this guy is your guide.
DON´T GO!!!!!
