Between The Lines

Last Run for the Sierra Madre
By Larry Burke

The labyrinthine wilderness of Mexico's Sierra Madre Occidental boasts one of the richest woodlands on earth, with a greater diversity of plant and animal life than any other bioregion in North America. Famed for its Copper Canyon, a ragged network of gorges deeper than the Grand, the Sierra is also the home of the Tarahumara, the legendary runners who have lived here for millennia.

This ancient tribe has managed to survive successive waves of exploitation at the hands of outsiders from missionaries to mining companies. But it remains to be seen whether the Tarahumara can outrun the latest wave of conquistadors: the narcotraficantes who have turned the Sierra into one of the most productive drug-growing regions on the planet. Logging operations allegedly tied to the drug cartels have been clearing ancient pine forests to make way for marijuana plantations and iridescent fields of opium poppies. Agents of the drug lords, meanwhile, have coerced the Tarahumara, often at gunpoint, into cultivating the illicit plants. Those who refuse have been tortured or killed, and over the past year the murder rate among the Tarahumara, according to a local watchdog group, averaged four per week.

In the wake of this environmental and human-rights upheaval, we dispatched contributor Alex Shoumatoff to Chihuahua to assess the twin ravages of the drug trade and an overzealous logging industry. Shoumatoff hiked 60 miles into the Sierra outback and hooked up with Edwin Bustillos, an environmental activist who, despite three assassination attempts, has spoken out about the Tarahumara's plight while organizing the first community efforts to combat both the overcutting and the narcotrafficking. Shoumatoff, who chronicled the life of Chico Mendes in his book The World Is Burning and whose account of Dian Fossey became the basis for the film Gorillas in the Mist, says he sees distinct parallels between Bustillos and the two ecomartyrs. "The prospect of a violent death is no more of a factor for Bustillos than it was for Mendes or Fossey," notes Shoumatoff. "I only hope, of course, that he'll find a way to avoid their fate." See Shoumatoff's chilling report, "Trouble in the Land of Muy Verde."

Typhoons. Tornadoes. Tsunamis. Anyone who's been caught in a genuine act of God knows that cataclysmic weather changes one's life forever. So we asked an estimable group of writers, including two National Book Award winners, to recall the worst stuff they'd ever been in the eye or teeth of. The result is "Big Weather," a collection by William S. Burroughs, Barry Hannah, E. Annie Proulx, Jane Smiley, and Robert Stone that captures the terror, the stupefaction, the perverse joy, and the utter helplessness one feels when things turn seriously inclement.

Elsewhere, Edward Hoagland takes us to the literal and figurative basement of the planet for a rumination on history, ice, aging, and Antarctica in "Surge Time at the Bottom of the Earth." Contributing editor John Brant visits the seaside fitness enclaves north of San Diego to catch up on the charmed life of the original Ironman, Scott Tinley, who after 20 years and uncountable miles seems in no danger of retiring from the sport of triathlon. In his revealing profile, "Triathlon Been Very Very Good To Me," Brant plumbs the odd mix of masochism and SoCal cool that has characterized this most punishing of pursuits -- and finds the voluble patriarch basking in the seemingly never-ending golden years of his career.

Finally, if Tinley doesn't leave you hankering for the bike saddle, our annual cycling guide will. From riding lessons by the likes of world downhill champ Missy Giove to a look at the latest in bikes, trail etiquette, and even cycling slang, it's all you'll need for total two-wheel empowerment this spring.