El Salto is a lumber town in the pine forests of Durango, high in the Sierra Madre Occidental, and it is the point where the road from Durango begins its descent toward the Pacific. The altitude is well above two thousand metres, and you feel it in the cool, thin, resinous air. Sawmills line the approach, logging trucks grind up and down the highway, and the smell of cut timber and woodsmoke is part of the place. The name means the jump or the waterfall, and the little cascade nearby is the origin of it. Nobody comes to El Salto for the architecture, but it is a useful, friendly town and a good place to prepare.
Prepare you must, because west of here lies the Espinazo del Diablo, the Devil's Backbone, one of the most famous roads in Mexico. The highway to Mazatlán twists down the spine of a narrow ridge with deep barrancas on both sides, hundreds of bends, tunnels and long bridges, and the views, when the cloud lifts, go on for ever. Up around El Salto the road is more forgiving, with pine and oak, wide curves and long, climbing sweepers. The surface can be broken by logging trucks, and diesel patches sit in the bends. In winter there can be snow and ice, and fog at any time of year, so check the weather and leave early.
The Devil's Backbone was a feat of engineering in its day. The highway, finished in the 1990s, replaced a notoriously slow and dangerous mountain road, and it opened the western slope to trade. You will see crosses and shrines along the bends, a reminder of the old road's toll. Truckers use the lay-bys, and ride-outs of the sort we like are a normal sight on weekends.
El Salto is big enough, with about twenty-four thousand people, to have fuel stations, small restaurants and shops, and you should fill up here because the stretch ahead has few services. Eat well before you leave: a plate of carne asada, beans and tortillas will keep you going. In the dry months the days are mild and the nights cold, so a warm layer is no luxury.