Alone in the desert

     We had been hiking for a couple hours on May 5 when we saw a man walking towards us on the ridge.  We were following the trail south towards Mexico and he was heading north.

     “Are you OK?” we asked.  “They chased us this morning,” he replied.  “I got separated from the group and I’m lost.”  “Who were they?” we inquired.  “La Migra (Border Patrol).” 

     “Do you have water and food?” we asked.  “No,” he said.  Al gave him a pint bottle of water which he quickly gulped down.  It was just 10 A.M. and it was already getting warm.

     “Have you seen a group of people?” he asked.  We did see a group about an hour earlier.  We had reached the edge of a cliff and were looking into the canyon when Al saw four people walking down an ATV (all-terrain vehicle) trail.  We watched as a Border Patrol truck came into the canyon and drove towards the bottom of the trail.  We heard some noise and saw two Border Patrol agents on ATVs riding down that same trail.  The people, ATVs, and truck disappeared from view behind the trees and we couldn’t see what happened next.

     We told him what we had witnessed and pointed out where it had occurred.  He was hoping to catch up with the group but that no longer seemed possible.  “Can I go with you?” he asked.  We explained that we’re members of the Samaritans and put water and food along some of the trails.  We were just out for the day and we weren’t going to be hiking further north.        

     We gave him bottles of water and food packs, and talked about the danger of continuing the trip alone (see photo of the terrain heading north).  He said he was going to wait and see if another group came along that he could join.  If not, he would walk back to Mexico.

     We asked where he was from and he told us Guatemala.  I asked where in Guatemala and he said Quetzaltenango.  I had gone to language school there twenty years ago.  Quetzaltenango is in the western highlands of Guatemala at an elevation of 7,500 feet – a world away from the arid landscape of the Sonoran desert.   

     He looked to be about my age and all he was carrying was a sweater, and no pack.  He thanked us, gathered up the water and food in his arms, and walked south back up the ridge.  We turned around and started down the ridge into the canyon.  Shortly after reaching the canyon road, we passed two Border Patrol trucks parked (with engines running) in the shade of some trees.

     We continued on to the main road and began walking back to where we had parked the truck.  Along the way, we saw a road sign: “Travel Caution: Smuggling and illegal immigration may be encountered in this area.”