BorderVenture

Well, I'm done running along the Arizona-Mexico border (for now at least).  As you may have noticed, I skipped a big section at the end here.  The reasons were many, and I don't feel the need to explain myself necessarily, but mostly I just didn't want to run along a somewhat busy, shoulder-less highway through the desert alone for another 3 or 4 days.  This is regrettable in a sense, but I feel that through BorderVenture I have accomplished what I set out to do- create some attention around border issues, gain personal insight, and to learn- without abusing myself for another three days (on a highway).

I walked and ran for about 10 miles down Highway 2 in Mexico west of Sonoyta before I decided to go back to Sonoyta and catch a bus to San Luis.  I finished the border run by running from San Luis to Yuma, AZ yesterday, approximately 26 miles all said and done.  I waited in a line for over an hour to cross the border into the U.S., surrounded by people crossing to go to work, some to school, some just for a day trip.  Apparently if you are in a vehicle, and depending on the time of day, you often wait in line for two hours to cross back into Arizona because of the much more strict inspection policies in place now.  It was a beautiful day, and by beautiful in Yuma I mean that there were storm clouds in the sky (and I even felt a few drops of rain!).  I'm not keen on road running (as you might surmise from the previous paragraph) but the familiarity of everything made the road, the vehicles, the houses, the stores, the sprawl, the hyperconsumerism all very welcome sights.  I kept my mind busy for a while practicing rolling my "rr's", which I'm apparently still awful at, with the familiar phrase "el burro sabe mas que tu," and the perhaps less familiar but classic, "mi perro tiene cajones grandes".  Despite some rather severe tightness and discomfort in my hips and pain in my feet, I found myself running with anything from a half-grin to a full-on stupid, giddy smile. 

Twice I laughed aloud extensively.  The first was upon seeing a Sonic, thinking about ordering a Cherry-Limeade to go, picturing myself stopping at every fast food place I saw the rest of the way into Yuma, and then laughing uncontrollable at myself and how ridiculous it was that the sight of a fast food restaurant made me so happy.   The second was just after I almost face-planted from tripping on my own shoelace (the sweet irony it would have been to sustain my most serious injury of the trip running on a sidewalk...) and I knelt down to retie my shoe in the grassy front lawn of an apartment complex.  It was so gloriously green, soft, forgiving, and familiar.  I had the impulse to take my shoes and socks completely off and just prance about for a while, but out of the want to just reach my destination I resisted and settled for a transition from kneeling and tying my shoe into a slow crawl on my hands and knees, kneading the grass with my fingers and laughing the whole way.  I can almost guarantee that YOU, the reader, right now, are taking grassy lawns for granted.  When you go outside next, appreciate that next grassy lawn you come upon for all of its luxuriousness. 

That's all to say that one of the things I've become most brutally aware of is how easy, comfortable, and complacent our lives are.  And how much we truly take for granted as we float along in our little boxes, mostly unaware and uncaring of what goes on outside of our daily lives.  Generally speaking, we rarely have to make difficult choices (real choices, I'm not talking about whether you should buy a new or used car, or whether you'll order a cappuccino or a latte), we are rarely faced with anything more than mild discomfort in our daily lives, and we can live pretty damn comfortably with even the most modest of wages. 

I have a lot to write about from BorderVenture- I've hardly talked about any of the experiences and the people I've met along the way, and I've done that somewhat intentionally.  And I'm going to continue to write about border issues, current events, etc long after I run out of things to say about the BorderVenture itself.  BorderVenture was my "grand gesture", my action, to draw attention to the issues, and in that I would say that it has been marginally successful so far.  I want to reach a bigger audience, and I will continue to work hard to do so.  And I plan to continue to use "adventures" as learning experiences and to draw attention to the issues.  I'm considering biking the 100 or so miles I skipped between San Luis and Sonoyta.  I'm also considering hiking the "Devil's Highway", an immigration corridor  that goes North between these two cities that is heavily used and notoriously deadly, in order to directly recount what an immigrant would experience when doing this.  Maybe try to do it on an immigrant's budget too.  Just a couple things I'm considering for now.  First I have to recover my car from Sasabe which will involve a somewhat extensive series of buses and shuttle vans through Northern Mexico.  I'll then drive back through Mexico starting in Nogales and ending once more in San Luis in order to thank those who helped me along the way, to recover some of the stashes I skipped (and ensure those I left them with that the Gringo Loco didn't die on the way), and then go home to Flagstaff.  This might take a couple days...  Hasta pronto!

Many thanks for your support, comments, advice, insights, criticism, and continued interest.  I hope that you'll continue reading-- even if it is less interesting now that my life is not in immediate peril (haha...)

Evan

Another Piece of the Arizona-Mexico Border

I'm headed back down to Sasabe today to start running again tomorrow. This is the leg connecting Sasabe and Sonoyta/Lukeville. I'll be traveling through the Tohono O'odham reservation on dirt roads for the most part, and there are houses at fair intervals so I'm hoping I'll be okay with water despite the heat. 90 miles in 90 degrees! I might run at night if I need to. Thanks for the continued interest and support, and don't forget to share this with your friends (and media contacts)! I'll have the SPOT beacon up and running again so you will be able to follow my progress live (link is the spot icon in the sidebar on the right). See you on the other side!
Evan

Some Reflections

I've obviously had some difficulties and encountered some significant obstacles so far.  I have also had the luxury of being able to bail out when things got rough, I've had the emotional support, advice, and input of many friends, colleagues, and generally experienced people, I have several hundred dollars of sophisticated technology, gear, and clothing, I'm an experienced outdoorsperson, and an athlete with the advantage of countless hours of training.  Yet despite all this, BorderVenture has been extremely challenging and has denied me twice now.  I think this should say something about those that migrate here, or attempt to do so, through the desert. 

The "gear" and clothing they have to complete their journey would be equivalent to someone giving you 20 dollars to go to Walmart and prepare for a 40 to 80 mile, multi-day journey through the Sonoran Desert.  They carry a couple children's school bags, sometimes just grocery bags, and I've even found a brief case in a desert canyon.  Any free hand carries a gallon jug of water.  Many bring canned tuna and other preserved meats.  The more knowledgeable ones bring an electrolyte drink too, often Pedialyte or other similar products.  Most of these people come from towns or cities, many have little experience hiking and surviving in the desert, and a lot of them aren't even necessarily in good shape.  As maybe you've seen from my experiences, it is almost impossible to carry enough water to last you for more than two days in the desert, and a migrant's journey is often much longer than this.  They need to refill their water jugs.  They don't have a fancy $100 water filter or iodine tablets to purify their water, they often end up drinking from cattle tanks and small desert pools- sources that will almost certainly make you sick if untreated. 

And we haven't even addressed the absolutely crushing uncertainty of the journey.  If you have a Coyote (human smuggler) or some other hired guide, you know that there is no way to know whether you will be abandoned in the middle of the desert or taken for all you're worth.  If you don't have a Coyote, you probably don't really know where you're going, and even with their guidance, there's still a great chance that you'll be spotted by Border Patrol, jailed for several months, and deported.  Either way, there is no guarantee that you'll even survive the attempt to cross the border lands, or that you'll ever see your family again.  And there is no bail-out option like I've had the luxury of- the journey is utterly committing, and the desert is starkly uncompromising.  But the risk is worth it, because there is promise of a better wage and a better life for you and your family on the other side. 

These people risk everything in this journey of unfathomable challenges,confronting immense adversity in an incredibly harsh landscape.  What they face goes eternities beyond what words like discomfort, pain, trial, sorrow, and tragedy are intended to describe.  The sheer determination, strength, and fortitude of these people should serve as a testament to the greatness humans are capable of.  Those that complete, or attempt to complete, this journey of Biblical proportions should be welcomed as heroes, for they have demonstrated that which is best in us- altruism, love, willpower, faith, courage, devotion to family, strength in the face of great adversity- the list goes on.  These people would be entrepreneurs, community leaders, pillars of our society.  Instead, when they finally arrive here in the United States, they are forced into a life of poverty, fear, discrimination, racism.  Something is wrong here.

West of Nogales

Another picture-heavy post, this one documenting my most recent trip into the mountains west of Nogales

 

On the outskirts of Nogales, headed west.  The bright lights up ahead are Border patrol lights for monitoring the border at night

The perils of hiking in the desert at night.  Those took a while to pluck out when I stopped hiking for the night

 

 The first water source I used the next day.  It tasted...interesting.  And minutes later I found a much cleaner little pool. 

An idea of the terrain that occupied a good portion of the day's traveling

Quite beautiful, really.  I think I will this region will be one of my new favorite non-summer hiking destinations

 

Some valleys/washes, many of which had large cottonwood trees.  I was able to find water relatively frequently, especially in some of the deeper and more narrow valleys. 

If you look closely you can see one of the better-defined migrant paths that I walked on that day, going up the far mountain side.  Shortly after cresting that next mountain I ran into a group of four migrants.  I saw the four men first, resting in the shade of some trees.  When I announced my presence with "Hola, soy un amigo", they immediately took off running, leaving all their things behind.  I tried yelling after them to stop them from running with no luck.  I certainly can't blame them- most of the gringos they might run into out there are the kind that are going to throw you in prison and deport you.  No one should have to live in that kind of fear.  And I won't lie, it was a bit nerve-wracking approaching a group of men (who could be drug smugglers, potentially carrying weapons) in the middle of nowhere.  So I'm sure they had similar concerns when I approached them.

This is my short Water in the Desert series.  It may not look like much to you, but finding these small pools of water out there was down right miraculous for me.  The last one, immediately above, is a deer carcass- likely taken by a mountain lion (nom noms).  Life, and death, in the desert revolves around these small water sources. 

This was after having crested the tallest of the mountains, entering a lower, more arid, and more rugged landscape.

Entering the canyon that would become my travel-corridor for a couple hours.  You can see a "window" through the rock formation there- the canyon walls and the surrounding mountains were quite spectacular, reminiscent of Sedona.

Some pictures more of the canyon.  There were a few points that it got really narrow and I was concerned about getting cliffed out (didn't bring my rope), but it quickly grew in size.  I believe this was Sycamore Canyon (haha), there were lots of big Sycamore trees, plentiful water (sometimes even with surface flow!).  Pretty spectacular (the pictures don't do it justice), but the meanders of the canyon and the difficulty of walking and running on cobble slowed travel greatly.  I filled my water containers and I bailed out of the canyon shortly after it took a decidedly southward turn, and entered a much more arid landscape.  Had I enough food for 2 or 3 more days of travel, I would have just stayed in the canyon and enjoyed hiking a leisurely pace in a pleasant canyon until I reached a road or some other form of civilization.  There was heavy trailing from migrant use, and I saw many migrant camps, so it certainly would have been interesting to stay in the canyon for longer.  I don't have any pictures after this one because it was getting late and I was focusing on just covering ground (with much difficulty), and I hiked and ran until dark (when it then proceeded to rain on and off for several hours).  Brrr.

Changes

So I'm back in Flagstaff again.  Water is tenuous in the Sonora, and the desert is a very serious, desolate, vibrant, lovely, and lonely place.  I suppose I am perhaps not "hard core" enough, but I ended up bailing to the town of Arivaca rather than finishing the leg connecting Nogales to Sasabe.  The day started out great, I felt great, and it is beautiful out there.  It was slow going because of the off-trail hiking and running over mountains and through valleys and canyons, but I was able to find water relatively often in the larger valley bottoms, and I often found myself using migrant trails to ease travel.  However, after cresting the highest of the mountain ridges, I found myself looking down on a much drier and more rugged landscape.  These lower elevation mountains were characterized by steep rocky cliffs and deep canyons- difficult terrain to move through.  I chose a route that I thought best and seemed to follow the border relatively closely, and eventually ended up in large, steep-walled canyon.  Though the canyon was generally headed west and water was very plentiful there, it took me approximately 2 hours to travel only about a mile as the crow flies when I actually likely traveled more like 6 miles due to the winding nature of the canyon.  When I was able to leave the canyon out of another side canyon, I was traveling cross country again but without the benefit of migrant trails anymore, and the much drier landscape was not providing water where I was hoping to find it.  As evening quickly approached, I headed north for some easier terrain, and found myself upon a Forest Service dirt road.  I hiked into the night until I came to an intersection in the road.  I had approximately 2.5 liters of water, and had to decide whether I would continue west toward Sasabe with the hope of finding water at one of the cattle tanks I had spotted using satellite imagery, or if I would head north on the Forest Service road toward Arivaca.  It had taken me 13 hours to move 14 miles (as the crow flies), when I had realistically ran and hiked more than 35 miles.  If it was going to be that difficult to move the remaining 20 miles or so to Sasabe, it was going to take me 2 more days.  I only had enough food for 1 more day, and I had enough water to last me until maybe noon.  So when I was eating "breakfast" and heard a truck coming down the road at 5:30am, I made the choice to flag him down and caught a ride back into Arivaca.  In retrospect, I probably could have made it to Sasabe a little hungry but fine, but at the time I wasn't willing to take the risk.

I'm not done with BorderVenture despite the second setback.  What I am opting to do instead, and what I think might be more productive in terms of telling the story properly, is to finish BorderVenture in pieces on the weekends.  The next step will be to go to Sasabe, a place I've been told is a staging area for a lot of immigrants and has some issues with cartels, and just spend a day talking to people there.  I will also look into setting up more caches for the 90 miles or so west of Sasabe, where water looks to be scarce, or potentially revising the route northward a bit to utilize some other roads.  The following weekend would be running from Sasabe to Lukeville/Sonoyta, and the weekend after that would conclude BorderVenture by running from Lukeville/Sonoyta to Yuma.  That's the plan right now, though plans don't seem to mean much of anything so far.  Thanks for following along so far, and sorry for the let down and change in plans.  Perhaps less epic this way, but hopefully a better way to tell the story (and perhaps a little easier for me to do so).  I'll try to do another post soon about my time and experiences in the mountains west of Nogales.

Back to the Border

Mostly healed up, made some shoe modifications, and headed back to the border now.  Be sure to follow along via the SPOT beacon shared page (click on the SPOT image/link to the right to follow my location live), and I'll try to update the page whenever I can.  Don't forget to "Like" the Facebook page (link also on the right)! Many thanks for the continued interest and support, and please share this with your friends!

So what's in the pack???

I wish Border Patrol could just look at this for reference when I cross at the Ports of Entry!  So here is what I've packed for BorderVenture- life on the run, in a backpack.

Read the picture like a book:
Backpack - Deuter 30L, pretty nice pack
Waterproof stuff sack
MSR 2L hydration bladder (2L of water in it)
Sleeping bag: 40 degree synthetic LaFuma bag
MSR 2L water bladder (with 1L of water in it)
(2) 0.6L water bottles (full, use these for electrolyte drinks)
SPOT beacon and carrying case
Toilet Paper
Sunscreen
(4) aluminum tent stakes and parachute-cord (In case I need to make a shelter)
Journal and pocket Spanish book (the book isn't very good, I don't really recommend it)
Katadyn water filter and water-purifying tablets
Electronics goodies on top of waterproof sack: iPod Touch, (4) AAA batteries, (2) AA batteries, Phone charger cord, camera and case, headphones (in case I'm losing my mind), Camera battery charger
To the right of the waterproof sack: lighter, sharpie marker, mechanical pencil, spork, toothpaste, Dr. Bronner's biodegradable soap
Adventure Medical Ultralight Waterproof kit
(1) pair synthetic underwear
(1) pair cotton underwear
(1) pair synthetic superlight weight long underwear (warmth at night)
(1) "Buff"- pretty neat thing, new to me, light and can make it into hat, headband, protection over face, etc
The ole wide-brimmed hat- an instant classic, great looks and great sun protection in a lightweight and breathable package
Lightweight waterproof tarp
Lightweight fleece jacket
Cotton t-shirt with custom "Hombre de Paz - BorderVenture" logo- having people sign this through the trip
(1) short sleeve synthetic running shirt
Teeny tiny running shorts
(3) pairs of socks
(1) pair of lightweight, synthetic hiking pants
(1) long sleeve synthetic running shirt

Missing from picture: GPS, iPod charger cord, cell phone, toothbrush, and food

 All packed up with room to spare!  It will actually be a little less full because I'll be wearing some of the clothes in there, and then the remaining space will be filled with food.  I eat a lot.

 And there she is in business form.  I wish I had a scale to weigh it, but I've cut down weight a good bit from what it was the first few days- dropped the rain jacket, a running hat, a warm hat, a couple small things I can't remember now, and a couple liters of water.  Doing this a little smarter the second time around I hope.  A true minimalist would probably laugh at this assemblage of items.  The electronics certainly add a bit of weight, but I need them to document this properly, update along the way, and navigate (not that a GPS is necessary, but I don't have any good maps really, so this is the replacement).  There are some other things I could drop, but I'm keeping them as (very small) measures of comfort and cleanliness.  I don't want to be a total dirtbag when I'm trying to talk to or stay with people in border towns.  Well, that's that.  I'm still planning on starting again tomorrow morning- the achilles isn't quite 100% yet, but it is much better, and I think I've removed the original source of the problem by changing shoes.