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Because when Caballo started to talk this time, he kept me spellbound. He talked deep into thenight, telling an amazing story that spanned the ten years since his disappearance from the outsideworld and was full of bizarre characters, amazing adventures, and furious fights. And, in the end, aplan. An audacious plan.

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Chapter 8
TO APPRECIATE Caballo’s vision, you have to go back to the early ’90s, when a wildernessphotographer from Arizona named Rick Fisher was asking himself the obvious question: if theTarahumara were the world’s toughest runners, why weren’t they ripping up the world’s toughestraces? Maybe it was time they met the Fisherman.
Total score all around, the way Fisher saw it. Some spit-chaw towns bag a ton of TV for, the Fisherman turns into the Crocodile Hunter of Lost Tribes, and the Tarahumaraget primo PR and become media sweethearts. Okay, so the Tarahumara are the most publicity-shypeople on the planet and have spent centuries fleeing any kind of relations with the public, but…Well, Fisher would have to deal with that speed bump later; he already had far stickier problems tohandle. Like, he didn’t know jack about running and barely spoke a lick of Spanish, let aloneRarámuri. He had no idea where to find Tarahumara runners, and no clue how he’d persuade themto follow him out of the safety of their caves and up into the lair of the Bearded Devils. And thosewere only the minor details: assuming he did assemble an all-Tarahumara track team, how the hellwas he going to get them out of the canyons without cars and into America without passports?