Meet The Thru Hiker Intent On Building Mexico’s First Long Trail

A Trail That Doesn’t Yet Exist—But Already Has a Soul

Diego Martínez, 34, is not walking a finished trail—he’s walking the future of one. Since April 2022, the Oaxacan-born thru hiker has completed 1,842 kilometers across seven Mexican states on foot, mapping, negotiating access, and documenting ecosystems for what will become Mexico’s first officially designated long trail: the Sierra Madre Trail (SMT). Unlike the Appalachian or Pacific Crest Trails—built over decades with federal backing—the SMT is emerging from the ground up through community land assemblies, Indigenous land trusts, and volunteer survey teams using Garmin GPSMAP 66i units and QGIS open-source software. At 4,200 kilometers projected end-to-end, it will stretch from the U.S.-Mexico border near Ciudad Juárez to the Guatemalan frontier in Chiapas, traversing all three Sierra Madre ranges. Martínez’s work isn’t just about mileage; it’s about redefining who gets to shape outdoor infrastructure in Latin America—and on whose terms.

The Genesis: From Appalachian Dreams to Oaxacan Reality

Martínez first encountered long-distance hiking in 2015 while working as an English teacher in Asheville, North Carolina. He thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2017, completing it in 167 days with a base weight of 9.2 kilograms—carrying a Hyperlite Mountain Gear Southwest 3400 backpack, Zpacks Duplex tent, and a Jetboil MiniMo stove. But instead of returning home to Mexico City with trail stories alone, he carried back questions: Why did Mexico have zero National Scenic Trails? Why were its most biodiverse corridors—like the Sierra Madre del Sur—largely absent from global hiking discourse despite hosting 70% of Mexico’s endemic amphibians and 62% of its pine-oak forests?

A Gap in the Map—and in Policy

The answer lay in institutional gaps. Mexico’s National Commission of Natural Protected Areas (CONANP) manages 222 protected zones covering 25.3 million hectares, yet none are zoned or funded for continuous, non-motorized public passage. Meanwhile, the U.S. National Trails System includes 30 National Scenic and Historic Trails spanning over 54,000 kilometers—supported by $12.7 million in annual federal appropriations. In contrast, Martínez secured his first formal funding in 2021: a $4,200 grant from the International Appalachian Trail (IAT) Foundation, earmarked specifically for GPS waypoint validation in the Sierra Norte de Puebla.

From Solo Surveyor to Collaborative Cartographer

What began as a solo reconnaissance mission evolved rapidly. By late 2022, Martínez had trained 47 community mappers across 19 municipalities—from Triqui-speaking elders in San Juan Copala to Nahua youth collectives in Cuetzalán. Each received standardized field kits: Brunton Eclipse compasses, Topo Maps México 1:50,000 printed sheets from INEGI (Mexico’s National Institute of Statistics and Geography), and waterproof notebooks. Their collective data fed into the SMT’s open-access GIS repository hosted on GitHub, updated in real time with version control. As of March 2024, the repository contains 14,832 verified waypoints, 2,109 water source assessments, and 387 documented cultural heritage markers—including petroglyph sites verified by INAH archaeologists.

Geography as Resistance: Why the Sierra Madres?

The Sierra Madre mountain systems aren’t just topographic features—they’re geopolitical fault lines. The Sierra Madre Occidental runs 1,250 km along the western spine, holding 82% of Mexico’s remaining old-growth pine forest. The Sierra Madre Oriental extends 1,350 km eastward, anchoring critical aquifers that supply Monterrey and Saltillo. And the Sierra Madre del Sur—long underserved and heavily impacted by illegal logging—hosts 11 of Mexico’s 68 recognized Indigenous languages and more than 200 community forest enterprises certified by the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC).

Mapping Water, Not Just Waypoints

Unlike U.S. trails where water caches are often assumed, the SMT treats hydrology as primary infrastructure. Martínez’s team conducted seasonal flow analysis at 1,043 springs, streams, and communal aljibes (cisterns), classifying each by reliability: Class A (year-round flow, ≥2 L/min), Class B (seasonal, dry May–October), or Class C (rain-fed only). Of those assessed, only 31% qualified as Class A—highlighting why trail design prioritizes alignment with existing community water governance. In San Miguel Chimalapa, Oaxaca, the route detours 4.7 km to follow the Camino del Agua, a centuries-old path maintained by the local ejido to protect watershed integrity.

Community Sovereignty Over Trail Tourism

When Martínez proposed installing a standard trailhead kiosk outside Tlaxco, Tlaxcala, community leaders refused—not out of resistance, but refinement. They counter-proposed a bilingual (Nahuatl/Spanish) wayfinding system carved from local volcanic stone, designed by artisan Raúl Tecóatl and inscribed with oral histories rather than elevation charts. This reflects the SMT’s foundational principle: no infrastructure is built without Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC) under ILO Convention 169. To date, 33 Indigenous communities—including the Wixárika (Huichol) of Jalisco and the Rarámuri of Chihuahua—have signed formal access agreements that explicitly prohibit commercial guiding concessions without community-owned cooperatives.

The Economics of Non-Extractive Access

This isn’t theoretical. In the municipality of San Cristóbal Lachirioag, a Zapotec community in the Sierra Juárez, the SMT route passes within 200 meters of Cerro Baul, a pre-Hispanic terraced site. Instead of permitting external tour operators, residents formed Cooperativa Sendero Comunitario Lachirioag (CSCL) in 2023. CSCL now employs 14 full-time guides (all certified in first aid by Cruz Roja Mexicana and trained in ethnobotany by UNAM researchers), charges a flat MXN $280 fee per hiker (≈ USD $15.20), and reinvests 65% of revenue into solar microgrids and bilingual preschool materials. Revenue data shows CSCL generated MXN $412,700 in its first fiscal year—more than double the municipal budget for cultural programming.

Logistical Realities: What It Takes to Walk a Future Trail

Walking the proto-SMT demands radically different preparation than U.S. trails. Martínez’s gear list reflects this: a 2.5L Platypus SoftBottle (not collapsible bladders, which freeze above 3,000m), a SOL Emergency Blanket reinforced with reflective Mylar for high-desert nights averaging −5°C, and a custom-sewn sarape from Teotitlán del Valle weavers—used as both insulation and rain cover. Resupply is rarely at convenience stores. In the Barranca de Metztitlán UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, hikers rely on tiendas rurales stocking only basic staples: Maíz Harinilla Maseca, Frijol Bayo La Costeña, and purified water sold in reused 1.5L Coca-Cola bottles.

• Navigation Tools: Garmin GPSMAP 66i (preloaded with OpenStreetMap + SMT-specific layers), Silva Ranger CL compass, physical INEGI topo maps (Series E14, scale 1:50,000)
• Permitting Protocol: No single federal permit exists. Hikers must obtain municipal permissions (e.g., Ayuntamiento de Huautla de Jiménez), ejido assembly approvals (e.g., Ejido San José de Gracia), and, where applicable, INAH authorization for archaeological proximity zones
• Medical Preparedness: Satellite messenger (Garmin inReach Mini 2), trauma kit with QuikClot gauze, and memorized coordinates of nearest health centers—such as CAISEM in Santiago Jamiltepec (14km off-trail, 2-hour horseback)

The Data Behind the Dream: Verified Metrics So Far

As of June 2024, Martínez and the SMT Alliance—a coalition of 12 NGOs, universities, and Indigenous organizations—have published auditable metrics that ground ambition in evidence. These aren’t projections; they’re field-verified figures compiled from 217 survey days, 89 community assemblies, and 3 independent ecological audits conducted by the Instituto Tecnológico de Monterrey’s Center for Sustainability.

Where Infrastructure Ends and Ingenuity Begins

In the rugged terrain of the Sierra Tarahumara, bridges aren’t poured concrete—they’re living structures. Near Creel, Chihuahua, the SMT crosses the Rio Candameña via a puente de troncos, a traditional Rarámuri log bridge rebuilt annually by families using Pinus arizonica trunks lashed with Agave lechuguilla fiber. Martínez’s team documented its load capacity (tested at 210 kg static) and seasonal vulnerability windows (avoidance recommended July–September due to flash flood risk). This isn’t ‘primitive’ infrastructure—it’s adaptive, locally governed, and fully integrated into the trail’s safety protocols.

What ‘Completion’ Really Means

The SMT won’t be ‘completed’ when the last signpost is installed. Its official designation requires approval from Mexico’s Secretariat of Environment and Natural Resources (SEMARNAT), ratification by the National Commission of Protected Natural Areas (CONANP), and inclusion in the Federal Budget’s Special Program for Sustainable Rural Development. Martínez estimates this may take until 2029—but the trail is already functional. Since January 2024, 14 organized groups—including the Universidad Iberoamericana’s Environmental Engineering cohort and the Colectivo de Mujeres Montañeras de Guerrero—have completed multi-week sections using SMT’s open-source guidebooks, which include QR-coded audio narratives in Mixtec, Mazatec, and Spanish.

1. Section 1 (Chihuahua): Janos to Creel — 227 km, avg. 18° C, 12 community checkpoints
2. Section 2 (Durango/Sinaloa): Topia to El Salto — 194 km, avg. 24° C, 9 water reliability stops
3. Section 3 (Nayarit/Jalisco): Santa María del Oro to Ameca — 168 km, avg. 27° C, 5 volcanic soil erosion zones
4. Section 4 (Michoacán/Guerrero): Uruapan to Tlalchapa — 211 km, avg. 22° C, 11 Purépecha cultural waypoints
5. Section 5 (Oaxaca): San Juan Bautista Tuxtepec to San Pedro Huilotepec — 263 km, avg. 25° C, 17 Zapotec linguistic markers

Each section report includes granular detail: average trail width (measured in centimeters with Bosch GLM 50 laser distance meters), dominant soil type (per USDA Soil Taxonomy), and even decibel levels recorded at dawn chorus points—critical for assessing noise pollution thresholds near cloud forest reserves.

Martínez doesn’t carry a summit photo as proof of success. His most prized possession is a worn notebook filled not with mileage tallies, but with hand-drawn maps by children in San Antonio Nanahuatipam—showing where the ‘path of the deer’ meets the ‘road of the elders.’ Those drawings now inform the final alignment of SMT Segment 7B. This is how trails are born in Mexico: not from top-down mandates, but from the slow, deliberate work of listening—then walking—then mapping—then returning, again and again, with nothing to offer but attention and accuracy.

The SMT isn’t waiting for permission to exist. It exists in the 33 signed agreements. In the 323 verified Class A water sources. In the MXN $412,700 flowing back into a Zapotec preschool. In the 14,832 waypoints uploaded not to a corporate platform, but to a publicly editable GitHub repository. It exists because Diego Martínez walked 1,842 kilometers—not to finish something, but to begin something far larger than himself: a national trail built by many hands, measured in relationships, and anchored in the land’s own enduring grammar.

For hikers considering engagement, the SMT Alliance recommends starting with Section 4—a 211-kilometer stretch through Michoacán’s volcanic highlands. Permits are coordinated directly through the Consejo de Pueblos Purépecha (CPPO), with mandatory orientation sessions in Pátzcuaro covering fire safety, waste protocols (all trash must exit the corridor—no burial, no burning), and respectful interaction guidelines co-authored by elders of the Comunidad Indígena de Santa Fe de la Laguna. There are no shuttle services. No hostel chains. No branded merch. Just a corridor, a map, and the quiet, persistent work of building something that belongs—to everyone, and therefore to no one alone.

Trail distances are calculated using geodesic measurement (WGS84 ellipsoid), not planar approximation. All elevation data derives from INEGI’s 2023 Digital Elevation Model at 5-meter resolution. Temperature averages reflect 2020–2023 CONAGUA meteorological station records interpolated via inverse distance weighting. Species documentation complies with IUCN Red List assessment protocols v14.1. Water classifications adhere to Mexico’s NOM-127-SSA1-2022 standards for potable water sourcing.

What makes the Sierra Madre Trail revolutionary isn’t its length or scenery—it’s its refusal to separate conservation from justice, recreation from reciprocity, or mapping from memory. It proves that the longest trails aren’t measured in kilometers, but in the number of times a promise is kept to the land and its people.

Martínez’s next phase begins in August 2024: surveying the final 1,100-kilometer leg from Veracruz to Chiapas. He’ll carry the same Hyperlite pack, the same notebook, and a new addition—a USB-C drive loaded with audio interviews from 12 Rarámuri elders, to be deposited at the Universidad Autónoma de Chihuahua’s Indigenous Language Archive upon completion. The trail doesn’t end at a border. It folds into history, carrying forward what was entrusted to it.

There are no grand monuments planned for the SMT’s terminus. Just a simple stone marker, quarried from Cerro Baul, inscribed with three words in Zapotec, Spanish, and English: Tadu Nii / Camino Vivo / Living Path. That’s the destination. And the departure point. All at once.