Alaskan Rambler

Posted in Travelogue

It wasn’t meant to be.  After stocking up on supplies and gas and deciding on a new destination to the south, we set out on the highway again.  We had barely reached the countryside outside of town before the same electrical trouble began again.  It killed the engine and we slowed to a stop.  We were able to push the vehicle off the highway, down a steep embankment (scary), and into some shade.   With the hood open we saw that the valve cover gasket, which we hadn’t found a suitable replacement after our engine teardown, was leaking oil as well and making a real mess of the engine bay.  Josh was on the verge at this point.

We waited awhile until it started again and drove into Mazatlan to find a GOOD mechanic specializing in electrical problems.  He spoke Spanish much too quickly and when I asked him to slow down he only repeated what he’d said just as quickly as the first time.  That is so frustrating but we were able to get our story across and listed all the parts that we’ve replaced in the last 100km.  He wanted replace the ignition control module which we had just installed, new, only two days prior.  We had bought it back home at NAPA and had it along as a spare and we even still had the box it came in which boasted it’s “Made in USA” quality, but he felt that since there wasn’t a recognizable brand name printed on the part itself it should  be considered suspect.  Now the odds that we had started all this with a failing ignition control module and then replaced it with an identically failing, fresh out of the box, ignition control module are difficult to fathom but he thought that was the only thing it could be.  Since we didn’t have any better ideas and wanted to trust him we went along.  There was an funny indicator that we’d  be better off without him when about at this time, he turned from discussing ignition and leaning over the DISTRIBUTOR to ask Josh if this was a diesel or gas engine.  Another $30 (for a module that we mentally noted had no brand name printed on it either) and we were back on the road feeling none too optimistic.  Sixty minutes out of town the same problem occurred and without doubt or hesitation we turned back towards US soil.

JOSH- Part of the allure of this trip was to face the challenges and intrigue of the third world and its culture.  One must consider the case and ask if the problem we faced should be blamed on Mexico.  While it is/was a VERY simple mechanical challenge it was above my head leaving me to find, and trust, “experts”.  That we struggled in an unfamiliar foreign city to find a decent mechanic is not a problem peculiar to Mexico.  Many people struggle for years to find a competent and honest mechanic in their own home town!   I had understood that third world mechanics were some of the best exactly because of their limited resources.  They must breathe life into old cars and can’t simply hook up a diagnostic computer and throw money and parts at a problem.  This may still be true as I’ve experienced worse back home even with shops who did have the benefit of first world resources.

I am lucky to have GOOD mechanical resources at home and ultimately all I really needed was telephone communication, which was a nut we never really cracked down there.  Within a moment of contact with Dan Lance of Team Lance Garage in Eagle River, he had suggested a part, heretofore unconsidered, in the distributor and explained clearly why it was probably that part, and why it was probably NOT the other parts that we had been targeting.   I wish we’d have just figured out how to contact him from down there and we’d be on track yet.  I’d have liked to have seen more of Mexico’s diversity but no regrets really.   As we’d never really had a “plan” it’s hard to say that things didn’t go as “planned”.  Further, we had prayed for God’s guidance and things like this are as close to a divine guiding hand as I’d expect to experience.

Britt-  The problem was not improving and was taking its toll on us mentally too.  How many mechanics are we going to have to go through?  Josh is a good enough mechanic to be able to go and swap out parts.  What we need is someone to really puzzle the problem.  It’s not an easy fix.  We didn’t feel good about continuing further south without getting to the bottom of this frustrating hiccup.  It caused us to stall out on the road frequently and Josh was tense, driving with one eye on the road and one on the gauges.  We needed to have this sorted out if we were to enjoy our travels like we wanted.  It isn’t the destination for us, but the journey (I know that sounds hokey, but it’s true) and relaxing and having a good time is what it’s all about.  Vehicle worries are an unnecessary burden.  That’s when we opted to head back towards the States instead of further away to be able to get some proper mechanical help and parts and decided our plans depending on vehicle diagnosis.  Just like heading out on our trip felt right, heading north at this point did too.  No regrets, really.  We didn’t have an itinerary in mind for Mexico or for our travels at all and wanted to be free to go where the wind pushed us.  We traveled all along the Western coast and had an amazing time.  I had wanted to drive into Mexico and get as far south as possible to get into the “safer” areas, but after arriving there our ideas of the safe zones changed.  We didn’t have to go as far and the pockets of places to avoid were scattered thinner than expected.  Pushing hard to drive south didn’t seem so important anymore and instead enjoying each spot was the ticket.  We met some fun friends along the way.  Deborah and David were the fellow travellers from Colorado and they gave us so many tips on places to go and offered us great company.  Dave took us on little side trips in his Jeep and were surrogate grandparents to Bjorn.  Happy travels to you both!!   I’m trying to figure out a way to post up a map of where we’ve travelled so standby…  I’ll get it one of these days!

We stayed in an RV campsite on the way north and Josh took that time to make and install a new valve cover gaskets cut from a roll of cork he bought in a town along the way.   Armadillos were rustling around in the underbrush.  They are interesting creatures made like little armored tanks and are surprisingly fast at darting away. The bats came out at dusk to entertain us with their acrobatics. Though pretty, it was an odd place and the people that stayed there were all a little fruity.  All older travellers and really eccentric and spooky.  One aged hippy lady came up to Josh and told him he looked so miserable with his Type A personality.  I’m pretty sure he was doing just fine, thanks.  Another lady had a “cat on a rope.”  That is what she called it when she tethered her cat outside of the motor home.  There were many other examples, but I have forgotten them mercifully.  It must have been something in the water there making them walk around all creepy and ghost like.  Or maybe they were all just high.

San Carlos was just one day from the border so we decided to camp out on the beach there again for some easy downtime.  We found a nice spot with several other campers about which made us feel pretty safe and allowed us to really relax a bit more.  The beach at San Carlos is a lot of fun because there are seashells all over the place and the sand is soft and warm.  It’s far nicer than anything I saw in Mazatlan.  Right after we had set up our camp, another vehicle pulled up next to us.  It was late in the evening on a Friday night and dark at that time so we were able to see in their abode pretty easily.  They were bustling about singing, laughing, and making merry in an unusual gypsy wagon.   Such interesting neighbors!  The next morning we met SunRay and his wife Bonnie and their two teenage boys.   He was a builder in Washington, a very unusual artistic vision.  We had an enjoyable visit with them.  They had traveled down from Bellingham around the same time as us and though they did not make it as far south, had a similar trip and were now on their way north as well.  Though Josh and SunRay did not resemble each other in any way, Bonnie and I looked like sisters.  They have a website for their business here.  He is very artistic and you should check out the gallery.

We ate fresh fruit every day and fresh vegetables every meal.  I’ve never had such good and healthy food as while in Mexico.  In the evenings a vendor would navigate the back maze of roads to reach each island of campers to peddle his wares.  His visit was always much anticipated.  Chimichangas, chili rellenos, fresh fish, oranges, grapefruit, apples, eggs, and fresh squeezed juices were offered one night.  He’s a great salesman and parted us with quite a bit of money as we took a little of everything he had.  Everything was DELICIOUS.  It’s hard to say no when he is giving you generous samples of everything.  The grapefruit was to die for as well as the fresh squeezed juices.  YUM.  When he came by on Sat evening,  Josh took a dish of ours down to the vendors truck to use to load up our items, but set it down without filling it up and returned to our camp without it.  It wasn’t until the next morning we realized it.  One of our splurges for our trip was the purchase of a cool cookset that nestles dish bowl, two pots, a frying pan, four plates, and four insulated mugs all in one tidy unit.  It worked perfectly.  Now without our washing bowl, it was not only hard to do the dishes, but it was also the item that held the rest of the bundle all together.  Josh was very disappointed about losing it and wanted to wait until the vendor next returned to get it back.  I doubted very much that he’d come back the next day as it was Sunday and the day for families, but perhaps on Monday then.  It was free camping, perfect weather, and we had no reason to rush off.  We spent all day Saturday exploring the town of SanCarlos, Sunday in the big city of Guaymas, Monday on a canyon hike, and since the vendor hadn’t returned yet, on Tues crossed the border to the US.  We’d had a nice time, but three days was sufficient for us and though we knew the vendor would return on Tuesday night, we wanted to get a move on.

[JOSH-  Both Guaymas and San Carlos are really nice little towns.  Guaymas had quite a few nice historical buildings around town.  I took the opportunity to get another barber straight razor shave.  What a treat.. they are so meticulous and it’s only 3 or 4 bucks.  San Carlos has a very American vacation town feeling.  Prices are higher as well as being quoted in US dollars and there are expensive homes, boats, and Arizona plates everywhere.  One highlight of our visit there was a trip north of town to a little oasis canyon where a little creek flowed down through some rocks and lush palm trees grew out of the arid landscape.  It was really beautiful and a nice escape from the heat of the day.  Also the trip out there required a little 4 wheel drive which was fun.]

There wasn’t much to the town of San Carlos.  It was really just a sleepy tourist town but we liked it there.  One morning we found a bakery owned by a Mexican born German woman and her husband that served the tastiest little German pastries and brewed up a wicked strong cup of joe.  Our hike in the canyon was lovely.  In the heat of the day, we drove out to it to explore.  It was desert land for certain, but then as we approached the canyon we found ourselves walking among palm trees.

My photographs during this trip have been disappointing.  The bright sun has been hard to work with.  Perfecting it was one of the things I wanted to do on our trip but I haven’t taken the time to fiddle with it yet so each time I view the pictures I have taken I am disappointed that the images have been so poorly captured.   You will just have to try to compensate for that by reminding yourself that the pictures don’t do justice to the landscape.

Our efficiency in breaking down camp has greatly improved and things clip along smoothly now.  We were up and at ‘em early on Tuesday morning and on the road before 8am.  There was a little bit of a line at each station on the border but nothing too bad.  Vendors walked up and down the lines of cars selling food, newspapers, trinkets, and gum among other things.  [JOSH-  Our nemesis’ being the guys that approach aggressively to slop up your windshield with filthy “cleaning” rags and expect to paid for this service.]  This kept Heidi entertained!  We were flagged for a closer vehicle inspection at the final checkpoint.  They searched the car, took my potato, and grilled us on the origin of the burlap bag that enclosed a jack stand.  They had to be convinced that it was not made in India.  I don’t know that they were ever satisfied with it but let us go anyway.  These were US Customs officials and were very rude to us.  Aside from the first Mechanic, not once did we feel disrespected by, or had any sort of unpleasant interaction with, anyone in Mexico.  The Mexican officials were very professional and courteous to us.  These Customs guys found a small bundle of trash in the back of the car and made a big stink about it telling us it was Mexican trash and had to be thrown away in Mexico.  Ok, sorry officer.  He repeats that it needs to be thrown out.  Josh said he’d do that and asked where.  The officer told him “in Mexico.”  He was going to have to walk back across the border to find a trash can but the reason it hadn’t been tossed out any sooner was because we hadn’t seen any trash cans that day, only trash strewn along the road.  The officer showed his generosity by stretching the rules “just this once” to allow us to dispose of it in a nearby trash barrel.  It was all intimidation and jerky’ism.   Heidi and I had been made to wait across the road from the car and so we now rejoined and continued.  By Tuesday we were back in the USA again.

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It was nice to spend some time resting up from the stress of the previous three days.  A shower was never so welcomed.  I was FILTHY.  We took all of our clothes to a lavanderia or laundry to be cleaned, but some of my clothes are permanently stained from car grease.  Mazatlan was hot now and pleasant.  There is just enough breeze and shade to balance it out.  Our friends made dinner for us that evening and the next day they drove us out to the Sea Shell Shop.  Say that fast three times.  What an interesting place! Sea shells of every kind and tons of statues, picture frames, small Virgin Mary statues, and tiny treasure chests made out of shells.  It put up pictures of it.  They will probably bore most of you, but, hey, it’s my page and I can do what I want.

It’s my birthday today.  Josh bought me a chocolate cake at a bakery this morning.  It was a long walk and we got a lot of attention from everyone we passed as we walked back to along the street.  It was a lot of fun and no, I forgot to take any pictures.  Sorry!

We were very tired and discouraged.  I didn’t know if I was up for anymore major car breakdowns and I know that the Land Rover is old and that car troubles are just par for the course.  Things were more expensive than we expected them to be down here and it’s looking necessary to stay in campgrounds more often than not now.  Some gas stations and toll stations are free overnight options, but we’ll need to ask around before we know which ones are patrolled by security and which are a little riskier.

Joseph told me that the town of Rosario was full of mafia.  The morning that we’d arrived there a big shot in the mafia had been killed and there’d been quite a battle.  He said that the police are crooked and if they know you are mafia, they just kill you.  I don’t know if that is true or not, but that’s how I translated it.  He said that things are tough there.  The mafia come around and tell you that you either are working for them or they kill you.  What is a person to do?  How hopeless it is for them.  How do you battle the cartels if everyone in town is a part of it either willingly or not?  We hear it over and over again from the Mexicans that they aren’t’ interested in harming or scaring any tourists.  It is important for their economy and every time a foreigner is harmed,  then the US gov’t comes with its heavy hand and no one wants to deal with that.  It’s just mafia vs. gov’t.  Another couple here at the campsite said that a few years ago there’d been a road block and the car in front of them and the car behind them were both robbed, but the criminals came up to them and when they saw they were from California, they were cheery and waved them on, telling them how they loved tourists and hoped they would enjoy their stay in Mexico.  Those stories are certainly the exception.

We haven’t known what to do and only an hour ago did we come to a decision.  That same couple heartily encouraged us to go south and enjoy some of the best towns they think the country has to offer.  They’ve a huge RV from 1975 that breaks down frequently on the roads.  All the mechanics they’ve employed have been very skilled and quickly had them on the move.  We were worried about breaking down on a narrow road after seeing the crazy way drivers barrel down some of these roads, but they assured us that they (the citizens) are used to that stuff here and if we put out signals or flares then the traffic is very accommodating and patient.  Everyone at the campground has been so supportive and have been encouraging us to continue on and embrace the adventure of it.  Tomorrow we’ll head to Guadalajara to see supposedly one of the best markets in Mexico.  I hear the campsite is awesome there and taxis are cheap.  A German fellow here said that it’s his favorite destination, but that it was cold at an elevation of 6,000ft. and as long as we are prepared for that we’ll have a good time.  I can’t lie.  I am nervous.  We both are.  It’s all mixed up with excitement too and I suppose that is the adventure of it all.

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[JOSH- We’re still in Mazatlan.. or I should say back in Mazatlan.  We ran into a mess of difficulties as we traveled south the other day.  I have been having an annoying electrical hiccup that kills the engine from time to time, sometimes for 2 seconds, sometimes for 5 minutes.  No patterns to it at all make it hard to diagnose and I’ve replaced a number of things in and around the distributor where I believe the problem originates.  Anyway- it happened again near a cuota casseta (toll) and some men nearby said that there was a mechanic just around the corner.  Frustrated, I decided to see if he had any ideas.  It was a dodgy looking yard that we arrived at, but they all are.  We explained the problem and he went out with me on a test drive where, of course, the car ran beautifully.  Back at his “shop” he started messing with this and that while I looked over his shoulder wringing my hands.. I don’t like strangers touching my baby.  He made some aggressive changes to the timing and suggested another test drive.  With me driving I immediately noticed terrible knocking (detonation).  I backed off to roll to a stop but he insisted I punch it.  A brief and confusing argument ensued with me insisting we pull over to correct the condition and him insisting that we carry on further.  In hindsight I should have just stopped immediately but I had some hesitation as he was a presumed “expert” and I wanted to trust him.  But the damage was already done.  Once a few years ago, I had grossly maladjusted the timing and blown a head gasket.  Sure enough within the next few seconds of pinging down the road it had lost all power and sounded like death.  Back at the yard he refused to believe when I told him that we had blown the head gasket and instead pointed to the distributor cap as the fault of there being no change in running when 2 & 3 wires were off.. (it was running only on 1&4).  While I repeated “empaque de cabeza” he drove to town for a distributor cap.  By about 10pm he conceded and arranged to borrow a compression gauge from someone and we confirmed no compression in 2&3.  Duh.  We called it a night and crawled into bed.  I sensed by then that I was on my own.]

It was so discouraging.  It was hard to have a good attitude, but it is so important that one person has a good attitude to help buoy the other in a tough time.  It’s an awful thing to have happen to anyone anywhere.  Sitting in a strange yard, surrounded by strange people only makes things weirder.  Not only was our electrical problem still a major deal, now we have a car that just won’t run at all.  I was sickened when I thought there was a chance that we wouldn’t get it going again.  I’d hoped it was just the gasket and nothing worse.  The whole thing was surreal.  There was a husband, wife, and young two year old son living there.  I think they must have had a residence someplace else, but not that we saw or knew of and they lived there for the weekend at least.  There was no bathroom or running water on the premises.  Trash was tossed to the edge of the yard and the wind scattered it all around.  Various men came and went and what a motley crew they were.  There were many dogs running loose in the yard.  The dominant dog there didn’t like one of the men and lunged for him.  No one was bit, but it was ugly.  I couldn’t blame the dog though as he made me quite uneasy as well.  There were puppies running around the yard.  They’d run up and steal things from around our car like our shoes, water bottles, dog leashes and then we’d have to hunt around for them again.  They weren’t thrilled to have us there parked right in the middle of everything and I am sure they didn’t like the whole situation any better than we did.  After working for hours in the morning pulling the head off of the engine, it was time for Josh to head into town about an hour away.  Men came and went including the mechanic, but no one offered him a ride or really helped him out at all.  It was Sunday and we didn’t know what stores would be open or what the bus schedule was like and if you have been in a foreign country and tried to use the public transport, you know how difficult it can be with or without a schedule to actually catch the right bus, let alone in a timely manner, and end up in the right spot.   We didn’t know when or where they left from.  I wasn’t sure when he might be back and the prospect of sitting in that place all alone was hard for me.  I was emotionally exhausted and even though I tried to be tough, tears started to slip from my eyes as Josh was leaving.  What a relief it was to see him return in the afternoon, but it quickly turned to disappointment when he said he had to leave again.  I was happy to have Heidi with me.  She is a happy dog, but still intimidating. She’ll go to work defending me as soon as I ask her to. One bright spot was that Joseph’s son picked up a rock he’d found somewhere on the property and brought it over to us.  I was an old axe head from 300-500 years ago.  Joseph said that the town had been a big mining area a long time ago and was the site of many battles fought over the gold in the land.  The area around his house had been an old landfill and these things turned up occasionally so he casually told us to keep it.  We are still letting all the negativity overshadow it for now, but hopefully soon, we’ll get our heads on straight again and appreciate it even more.

[JOSH– Early the next morning I set to pulling the head.  By about 10 it was off and I was hitching a ride to Villa Union (the nearest refaccionaria open on a Sunday).  After hitch-hiking, taking a bus, walking, and catching a ride with Uzi toting policemen I was back to the car.  Upon arrival I looked closely, for the first time, at the head gasket I had bought… it was rusted and the broken.  Without hesitation I turned back to the highway to hitch-hike back to town… all the way back to Mazatlan(!) this time in order to find a slightly better gasket.  By the time I was back to the car and my family it was getting dark and I had been at it since 6am.  Called it a day.  Early the next morning Britt and I got to work installing the new head gasket and we were ready to pull out of there sometime that afternoon.]

Josh makes it sound a lot simpler than it was.  It wasn’t as easy as all that to get to town or get to the right place and when he returned it was in a police vehicle.  I had a moment of panic that then turned to relief when I saw that everything was alright.  He came up to me carrying the new gasket and after we looked it over, we realized it wasn’t going to work.  It was in poor shape.  They just had stacks of them on their shelves just jammed haphazardly on top of each other and it was no wonder it was in bad condition.  The man at the store was so kind and helpful too that it was sad to have to bring it back to him and tell him it was no good.  My spirits sank even lower this time.  Places were bound to close early and it was getting late already.

It was a hot day.  It was burning hot at 8:30 so we knew we were going to be in trouble come noon.  Between noon and three it felt unbearable.  Bjorn was listless and I couldn’t do anything to make things cooler for us.  We were in the middle of a dry dust bowl there.  Dust devils swirled about the streets.  We were constantly sweaty and dirty, but very cold at night.  I spent most of the day sitting in the back doorway of the car in the only shady spot there was.  I watched a puppy run past me with half of a HUGE rat in its mouth.  This rat was the size of a rabbit in Alaska.  Surreal.   It was getting late in the day and the sun was starting to go down and he was still gone.  I started to make some dinner, but I was a bundle of nerves.  Something had to have gone terribly wrong for him to be so late.  Joseph, the man that owned that property, said that Sunday is a terrible day to try to do any business or take a bus.  I don’t know if he was trying to comfort me with that, but it didn’t help.  When he finally returned I was so happy to see him that I couldn’t stop hugging him.

[JOSH-  I need to interject that this whole time we were stuck in the armpit of North America.  The couple who lived in a hut on this god forsaken property were yelling at each other constantly, Britt was kept busy keeping their toddler off of the highway, packs of dogs were running around with half-eaten rats in their mouths, there were carcasses of baked armadillos here and there with accompanying plastic bags of raw armadillo guts rotting and attracting flies nearby, shady characters were in constant rotation in and out of the place, and it was unbelievably dirty and HOT.  The situation was made worse by a cloud of awkwardness as we clearly felt that this guy had foolishly multiplied our problems tenfold and then abandoned us and he, showing up there only occasionally, was slinking around avoiding us and talking about us in bad tones.]

First thing in the morning, Josh and I got up and started to put the car back together.  I don’t have any mechanical skills so I was just an assistant.  I can’t claim any credit here.  It was another hot day bending over even hotter metal.  The tools were so hot they burned to the touch.  I know I’m whining here, but this stuff might be interesting to us in AK since we don’t ever really have to deal with situations like this.  I didn’t know that tools could get THAT hot just by laying in the sun.  Another puppy came running by with a new rat.  It sat down and started to happily shred pieces off of it.  I don’t get easily disgusted, but that was too much.  I’d had it and chased it off.  I didn’t know that it’d run to the back of the car and dropped the half eaten bloody thing on our mat in front of our back door.  When I came back there and saw it, I pick up the mat and kicked at the back of it, punting it far, far away.  30 minutes later, the puppy was under the car crunching on it again.  I gave up.  Later on I saw it walking around with only the tail of it hanging from its mouth.  GROSS!!!  Then just as things were coming together we pretmaturely turned the engine over and caused some things to become unaligned.  Argh, another set back! To make a long story short, later in the afternoon we had it put back together and were quickly packing up to get out of there ASAP.

[JOSH-  Not surprisingly given the absurdity of the situation, when it came time for us to leave, he sent one of his underlings to submit his invoice!!  We were furious! (My Spanish seemed to be much more fluent when I was upset.) You did nothing to address our initial problem and, in fact, BROKE our car badly.  You offered no help to make things right, I spent my money and time to fix the situation, and my family had to endure insecurity and hell in my absence.  He wanted to charge us (a marked up price) for the distributor cap that he had bought, against my will and against my advice, to which I held up the busted head gasket and told him what it cost.  He said that it was not his fault, that detonation could not cause such a thing (Not true, detonation and break piston rods!!  Look it up.) and that we had just driven the last 5,000 miles on a head gasket that was only waiting on him before it gave up the ghost!  In the end we cut our losses handing him $200 pesos and got the hell out of there.  In my haste I backed into their gate and bent my rear door.  We chose to return to our previous campground in Mazatlan to lick our wounds and re-evaluate.

As if today I’m discouraged with the trip and considering spending the balance of our vacation someplace in the US.  I don’t mean to sound like a thin-skinned quitter and, who knows, maybe my attitude will change after a day or two of rest.  But that electrical quirk remains looming out there, the transmission is giving some trouble selecting gears (probably only an annoyance), and I noticed a frame crack forming near my Scout conversion power steering box.  With these things hanging out there I don’t know if I’m up for any more Mexican bush repair nightmares.  We really wanted to reach the southern end of Mexico, especially since we’re sick of all shades of brown, and we’ve come this far… who knows.  We’re talking about leaving the car somewhere in the lower 48 and returning another time as the stretch from Alaska to Arizona was really the leap.  Who knows.. but that’s where we’re at.

A very special thanks to Heraldo (Geraldo?) and Gladys Verdugo who went way out of their way to drive me around Mazatlan looking for parts.  Gladys was a delightful girl pursuing an engineering degree in Culiacan and it was nice to hear an English voice that day!  Their generosity helped restore my spirit.]

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Mazatlan.  We had a nice drive from Las Glorias on the toll-free road.  We didn’t find it to be slow or in poor repair, as we had heard.  We felt pretty good about saving so much money by taking that road that we went ahead and stayed at a nice RV park for the night.  It was a hot day at 80 degrees, though much cooler in Mazatlan at about 70.  We haven’t been to a city like this before anywhere else in Mexico.  The tourist half of it is really something.  I was certain that I wouldn’t like it, but it’s not that bad, really.  Ok, it’s kind of fun to be here.  It’s just so different!  The park we chose to stay at is right on the beach and I am going to go take a little walk on it here in a bit.  It isn’t warm so far today at all.  The wind keeps blowing in from the water, but it’s only 9am and can change any time.

The wind didn’t let up.  We have been here for two days now.  This will be our third night.  It is the most expensive campground we’ve visited by far, at a whopping $25 a night.  It adds up quickly, but it is pretty nice and has a great internet connection.  One of the guys in charge, Manelo, speaks pretty good English and has been a big help to us here.  I think it has been a good value.  You’ll see in the photos how out-of-place our dusty, rude Land Rover is dwarfed by these towering RVs.  There are people in this campground that have been here since November.  I think it draws a more well to do crowd, judging by the vehicles.  A personal masseuse comes to pay house calls to some clients in the mornings.  Not too bad!

This RV park is usually packed and guests have to make reservations well in advance, but there are many empty places and the restaurants all up and down the main drag of Touristville are all but empty morning and night.  Between the cold weather and the lack of tourists, Mexico is having a pretty rough time of it.  Someone said that this was the coldest this area has been in more than 50 years.  Another tourist couple spoke with some farmers that said there was frost on the corn this morning and they have all turned black.  When asked if he thought the corn would still be all right, he replied that he didn’t know, that he’d never seen this happen before.  Sadly, I don’t think the corn will survive.  Luckily we get to spend quite a bit of time here, so a cold spell here and there won’t bother us too much.  I feel bad for those that scrape and save to escape work and the winters back home for one week on the beaches of Mazatlan, but then never get to put on a bathing suit or open up their new bottle of sunscreen.  There is NO ONE of the beach except only the hardiest of beach peddlers and for my walk tonight, I wore a wool hat!

On our second night, we didn’t set up our bed planks very carefully and one ended up falling down and bending the metal.  What to do now?  After making a poorly received comment about my big butt causing the problem, Josh put his thinking cap back on and then decided to heat up the steel using our cooker and then bend it back into place.  See attached photos.  That’s why I keep him around.  What he lacks in tact, he more than makes up for in skill.

We had planned to visit a dentist in Mexico for some cleanings and x-rays.  Manelo kindly set us up with appointment for the very next day.  Our dentist was a wonderful older gentleman that spoke fine English.  According to the films, Bjorn and I were cavity free and just needed cleanings.  Bjorn also had an application of a fluoride paste of some sort since our water at home is not fluoridated.  Josh hasn’t been to a dentist in an appallingly long time.  He had a cavity under an old filling and had to have that drilled out and refilled again.  Aside from Josh not receiving quite enough Novocain, the experience was a pleasant one.

Being completely out of food, we decided it was necessary to visit a market and resupply.  I’m feeling a bit like my mother now with only condiments in my fridge. The markets are so fun.   I am feeling a little braver with my abilities to communicate in Spanish and even did a little bit of haggling over price.  I needed to buy some instant coffee (gag, I know.  I’ll explain my actions later).  This did not go as smoothly and the others, and I had to employ a bit of pantomime and sound effects to make it clear what exactly I was after.  There weren’t too many exotic items at this market, but I went home with eggs, cheeses, apples, oranges, bananas, tomatoes, papaya, chicken, beef, and two kinds of tortillas.  The poultry lady was deboning a chicken one minute and in the next was handling my money.  Bleh.  It’s been a miracle that we have not been at all sick yet.

We’d left our vehicle parked in downtown Old Mazatlan in front of a barber shop.  We asked them to keep an eye on our car and that we would return for a shave later that afternoon.  Josh was looking forward to getting an old-fashioned straight razor shave.  Just before she was about to put the razor to his neck he quickly asked her if she liked gringos.  She said that she did and the shaving commenced.  He got the royal treatment of a hot towel application to start and an arm and shoulder massage to finish and all for less than five dollars.  He was thrilled with the experience.

Coffee.  We use a coffee cone with paper filters over a thermos to make coffee.  Our cone broke while we were still in Arizona, but I thought it would be easy enough to get another.  Not so.  Can you believe that we’ve been without coffee since then?  So far, we’ve not been able to find any café’s that specialize in good coffee until Mazatlan.  So very unlike home where there is a coffee stand on every city block.  The name Internet Café is cruelly misleading.  No café, only internet.  Our host at the Rancho Pensasco made coffee using a sieve made with cheese cloth to hold the grounds.  He soaked the grounds in the pot like you might tea and then served up a tasty cup of joe.  We’re going to try to make something like that tomorrow.  We’ll keep you posted.

Let me take a moment to say negative things about the city maps we have used.  We have tried tourist maps, maps in guide books, and AAA maps.  None of them seem to match with the actual streets, in our experience.  It is hard to tell what street you are on as not all of them have any sort of posted name, but the names that do appear don’t line up with those on our maps.  We end up so turned around.  After walking about the whole downtown area yesterday and asking directions at just about every street (either the directions we received or our understanding of them only our fueled our misguided wandering), we came full circle to find that the market had been only two streets away from our car in the first place.

Today we visited an aquarium/aviary/botanical garden.  It started with an entertaining sea lion act.  As an added bonus, a large white heron flew onto the rocks about the pool and hung out waiting for his chance to eat some fish.  He did not leave disappointed.  It was a fun show and after that we walked around to see frogs, fish, sharks, eagles, parrots, ducks, pelicans and even a tank full of microscopic organisms.  That’s what the sign said and as they were indeed microscopic, you had to go on faith that you were not looking at an empty tank.

It’s been a fun visit to Mazatlan.  We are ready to move on though, I don’t know where we will go yet.  I don’t really know when we will decide that either.  We’d planned to sit with a map this evening and discuss a route, but judging from the intensity of the snoring coming from the car, I don’t think that is going to happen anymore this night.

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–there are now pictures for the previous post–

It’s been taking us too long to get our camp packed up in the mornings.  It shouldn’t, but it does.  With breakfast, washing and dressing, washing up dishes, and then packing up our sleeping bags and mattress pads our morning passes us by and we aren’t ready for the town until 10.  It is unbelievable how long it takes to do things while we are traveling.  Just brushing our teeth is an ordeal.  At home, these things take no time at all.  We will need to find ways to be more efficient at what we do so more time can be spent sitting in a park instead.

Several hours were spent in the town walking around then just sitting on a bench and visiting with people (or trying to.) It took more time than we’d hoped at the internet café to navigate any pages let alone upload photos and posts, that we weren’t leaving town until 2:30.  It was hard to find this small road and we kept hitting dead ends with it.  Several miles into the drive the Land Rover started to hiccup and made us a little nervous.  Ok, it made me nervous, and we headed back into town and decided to set out earlier in the day to allow for breakdowns or getting lost.  I haven’t been as relaxed as I usually am.  I’ve been overwhelmed with so many new experiences, people, language, everything and just needed to slow down and catch my breath.  It’s going to take a while to fine tune our routine.  For now, it feels like we are stumbling along.  It’s all a part of the adventure of it, I am sure, but it would be nice to streamline it a bit.

Earlier we’d spent some time in the park, Josh using the computer and Bjorn and I watching the people come and go.  There was a street vendor with some fresh juice.  I practiced some sentances with Bjorn and then sent him up to ask how much it was for a cup.  He came back to me and I gave him the amount and he returned and purchased it all the while using Spanish.  I was so proud of him!  He ran up to a man with some toy lizards to do the same.  They were too expensive, but the experience was fun.  He hasn’t hesitated since to try out saying things in Spanish.  I dare say, he is doing better at it than I am.

[JOSH-  I had wanted to try to reach El Fuerte via back roads.  Until now we’d been on multi-lane highways this whole trip and that hadn’t been the idea of a Land Rover adventure at all.  At about 3pm we started out of town on the back road headed south but within a mile or two we could see that this wasn’t a venture to be beginning at this late in the day.  Another night in Alamos and we were on the road at 06:45 the next morning.

The road that had turned us away the previous afternoon was to be some of the best that we’d see for the rest of the day.  Soon it had deteriorated to something like dusty cow trails with lots of mystery intersections.  We had a map that was likely the wishful thinking of some Mexican cartographer sketching  what might take shape when the Mexican DOT wins the lottery and actually builds some real roads in the area.  Occasionally we’d pull up to a little adobe hut with a little old Indian lady bent over a cooking fire or sweeping her dirt yard with a grass bundle broom.  The first one I approached for directions saw me coming and hurried to get a chair for me to sit down on by the time I arrived at her front door.  The experience was one I’ll never forget.  She was old and leathery, stooped, and wearing some traditional Sonoran desert old lady garb.  She motioned for me to sit and extended a soft hand.  Her directions, however, were miserable.  We must have asked 10 people for directions that day and most were basically useless.  It occurred to me that these people travel only out of necessity and, in many cases, necessity is only as far as one needs to walk to find firewood.

We passed through a few little villages that looked right out of an early Clint Eastwood western.  Old mud adobe huts, chickens in the yard, a corral made of sticks, and a little donkey tied out front.  We saw four Road Runners and several other unidentifiable, but fascinating, birds.  A few lone cabelleros driving cattle from horseback (one of whom spoke fairly clear Spanish and gave accurate directions!), and forests of Taco Time looking cactus.

Reversing to look at some funny birds who were sitting at the top of a cactus with their wings outstretched (gathering sun?) the Land Rover sputtered and quit.  It didn’t feel like a typical stall and I was nervous as I reached for the key to restart it.  Cranking, cranking, with no sign of turning over.. and us, pretty much lost in the desert.  Quickly I shut down all things electrical in case there was lots more cranking to come.   Fuel was flowing to the carb so I pulled a plug to look for spark.  Britt was doing the cranking and there was spark there alright.  Suddenly the engine started, compression blasted me in the face from the spark plug hole, and I was getting electrocuted everywhere my body touched the car!!  I yelled at Britt to, “Stop it! Stop it!”.  She thought I meant to quit cranking so she came around the front of the car to see what I was on about.  “No!  Shut it down!”   We were happy to return the plug to its hole, put the tools away, and drive on.

Eventually we came to some real signs and then to a dam at the base of a large reservoir.  The dam man told us that we could drive across the dam (contrary to some strongly worded signs posted) and El Fuerte, our destination, was just beyond.  And it was.  It’s supposed to be a neat old colonial town from the mining days.  The guide book said it’s a lot like Alamos except largely unrestored.  We didn’t see that part, only the typical Mexican street with lots of tire repair shops and taco stands.  Not bothering to look around much longer we chose instead to leave town on a beautiful paved highway to a beach side RV park only 2.5 hours away.

The Land Rover has doubtless been responsible for some neck injuries down here.  People invariably drop whatever they’re doing and stare, open mouthed, at us while we pass.  I don’t know why.. there are plenty of other weird and wonderful contraptions driving these roads.  I’d think nothing would surprise them.

After driving through more corn fields than I would have imagined existed worldwide we pulled onto the dusty little beach front drag of Las Glorias and the sign there wanted us to know that they welcomed tourists.  Indeed there are plenty of beautiful homes along this street and several nice hotels and restaurants.. all utterly quiet and abandoned.  The RV park that we had chosen from Camping in Mexico has space for something like 70 rigs.  There were two.  Maybe it’s the flagging economy back home or, more likely, the Mexico horror stories but these places are suffering.  The skeleton staff of three keeps the grounds tidy and daily, spreads fresh table cloths on all the tables of their open air restaurant for no one.  If tourism ever comes back I doubt it will be in time to save this place.  It’s pretty sad.

We were ready to slow down so we chose to spend an extra night here.  Bjorn loves playing on the beach, I wanted to do some car maintenance, and there’s free WiFi for updating the blog.  Tomorrow we’ll likely drive on to Mazatlan.]

I have enjoyed myself here.  It was a little eerily quiet about the place, but I fell into a nice easy pace today.  We allowed ourselves to be slow and fumbling.  It was sunny, but windy, so not too hot and not too cold.  The sun shone all day.  Bjorn stayed in swim trunks all day, running up and down the beach.  He befriended some a couple from Colorado that was staying here too.  He dug clams with them and had a ball having the run of the place.  I managed to get a ton of sun today and my cheeks and nose are quite pink.  Lovely day.  I think I caught my breath at last.

We’re facing some hard decisions.   We want to be safe, but we can’t be shelling out so much money every night to stay at campgrounds.  It’s nice, of course, but ideally we would be able to camp fairly safely in someone’s yard or farmland or around a police station.  It isn’t terribly expensive, about $15 on average, but if you add that up for another 6 weeks of camping, we’ll go broke in no time.  We only have a certain amount saved up.  Our biggest expense is gas, hopefully there won’t be much in the way of automotive repairs, but we would like to be able to go places like museums, aquariums, or other attractions that have entrance fees and not feel so terrible pinched all the time.  It’s hard to know how to make the money last.

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I really hated to leave but we wanted to get to our next destination early enough to explore around the town.  It was supposedly an old mission town with wonderful period architecture.  It had rained during the night and our clothes and shoes were wet as was the sand all around us.  Sand, sand, everywhere.  Josh had the rotten luck of stubbing  his toe  on a cactus.  Part of it broke off and he hobbled back to the car for help.  It was hard to pull out!  I think the ends on those things are a little barbed.  Ouch!  Later in the morning, I stepped on a smaller broken off piece of one and had it embedded in the sole of my foot, though not as deeply as Josh’s.  The weather was warm right from the very beginning of the day this time.  How heavenly!

I went to walk Heidi around the beach for a while and then had to quickly run back for my camera.  There were pelicans all over the beach and porpoises playing just six feet or more from the shore!  By the time I came back with my camera, they’d moved out a little further.  There were also these amazing birds that would circle above the water and then propel themselves straight downward like a missile into the water, diving for food.  I have spent many years on the sea, but have never seen anything like this.  It makes a great slapping sound as they hit the water.  Sometimes ten would dive all at the same time looking like bullets falling from the sky.   I almost forgot about the hummingbirds around our car.  I thought it was a gigantic flying bug and ducked, but Josh told me what it really was.  Amazing little critters.  We had to leave our little pile of seashell treasures behind for now.  Maybe on the return trip.

It was a hot, hot, day.  The Land Rover doesn’t have any air conditioning other than a little metal fan on the dash that blows continuously these days despite being noisy.  There were many caballeros or coyboys on horses riding around with their cattle.  Cattle grazed along the highway and sometimes in the wide grassy median.  It’s not green grass, mind you, but the dry, parched, yellow grasses you’d expect to find out in the Sonoran dessert.  There were tall bushes, but few trees yet.  Even the bushes had thorns on them.  Everything is sharp here.  [JOSH-  Mexicans seem to HATE apple juice!  All along the shoulders and median of the highway there are various bottles and jugs filled with, what appears to be, apple juice thrown from their windows in disgust as they drive.]

It has been very easy to navigate around here.  The signs are pretty clearly marked.  Hermosillo was the only place that confused us, but that was the only city we’d really tried to navigate around.  None of the streets matched up with the map.  We’d needed to find an ATM and make some calls.  The ATM was simple enough, but the telephone defeated us entirely.  We have spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to call home.  I finally managed to connect to an operator so that I could at least make a collect call to my mom.  Whew.  I think she was relieved to hear that we are still alive.

There are so many roadside stands selling food, both prepared and not.  If the prices were advertised, we would stop to buy some but I can’t know what a good price is for, say, a bag of oranges or a coconut.  We ended up buying a coconut for almost two dollars.  Who knows what the average price was but we loved it up anyhow.  He used a machete to cut the ends off of it, drained the juice into a bag with a straw, cut up the meat inside and handed it back to me with a lime and a napkin.  He told me the salsa was on the end of the counter.  Salsa?  I could fathom squirting limes juice on it, but not salsa.  Buying this was adventurous enough for now.

We’d only gotten our feet wet with our interactions using Spanish.  Most people speak very quickly and it seems especially true for busy shopkeepers.  We are out of bread and many other food supplies.  My head hurts from trying to speak and understand the language and I am a little frightened of having to use it in my next encounter.  We did stop to buy some corn from an old gentleman.  He didn’t have a sign just a truck bed with a huge piles of fresh ears in the bed.  He was selling them by the dozen, but I knew we’d never eat that many and I couldn’t imagine trying to store a bunch of corn in the vehicle.

In the town of Guaymas, Josh decided he needed to take a look at the transmission.  It just isn’t right and it seems to be getting worse.  First he needed to make a call for advice.  Ugh.  Here we go again.  We walked up and down the streets trying to find someplace that sold calling cards.  Finally one place was recommended to us, but they said they didn’t have card that worked for calling the US.  We serendipitously stopped into a tiny tool store to ask them.  I was fumbling in Spanish but managed to get it out.  One employee looked at me a little blankly and the other answered me in perfect English!  We got that straightened out and she kindly let josh make a super quick call to the US on her phone.  He got some info needed to get to work on the car.  We drove into a hilly neighborhood nearby and looked for a level spot.

[JOSH-  I had decided to try tightening the transmission main shaft nut.  This involves removing part of the transfercase to access a large nut of unknown dimension.  Luckily we had befriended the nearby tool shop vendor as I didn’t have any large, deep, sockets along.  I misjudged the size of the nut three times (typical), each time having to run back a few blocks, embarrassed, to the shop to return the socket and buy the next biggest size.  Finally, I was able to add a few turns to the nut but it turned out this was not the problem.  I’m guessing the synchros are shot.. what bad luck that this problem should crop up from nowhere so early in this trip (typical).  Meanwhile everybody in the neighborhood tried to befriend and assist stranded Britt, keeping her busy with PR.  The nearest neighbor was a journalist out of Hermosillo and he interviewed us for an article in his paper, Expresso(?).  In all it was a fruitless, but fun, 2 hour diversion from our day.]

We pulled into the town of restored colonial town of Alamos around 5pm.  There was a festival going on this weekend and today, Sunday, was the final day of it.  We found a good spot to park and, after locking up, started walking into town to check out all the noise.  There was music all over the town.  It was fun to be out on the streets along with other families and young people all dressed up and excited.  It wasn’t really clear which way to go.  Josh prodded me to ask someone but I just couldn’t think of how to ask in Spanish, so I refused and insisted we’d find it ourselves.  Josh found a phone booth and used a calling card we’d bought earlier in hopes that it might work and it did!  He was able to place a call to his mom.  Hooray!

There were some street vendors, but mostly musicians, and groups of people walking around happily chatting.  It was dark at this time and the town had lights placed all around the illuminated the buildings handsomely.  A few buildings had large candles lining the top of them.  We wandered around for a long time looking at people, buildings, and a food stand.  We found one that sold carne asada tacos.  That should be really easy to do, but I just can’t stress the importance of being plenty fluid in Spanish before you come, at least to the smaller towns.  They don’t just ask if you want salsa with it, or if you want chicken or pork, but they rattle off a bunch of questions that I just can’t figure out yet.  In deciphering the language, I find it’s easier if you know to expect a certain topic. The numbers are harder for me than I thought.  My language teachers pronounced these numbers much slower and clearer in the classroom.  I won’t be able to describe how baffling and overwhelming it all is, but strangely in a good way. [JOSH-  Britt is making this all sound worse than it is.  She converses with nearly everyone easily by my estimation.  My skill lies in creatively forming sentences and questions around words and expressions I know in the same way as Porky Pig gets around his stuttering problem.  Most everyone has been patient at least.]

It was late and Bjorn was begging to go to bed.  It was warm and I was enjoying myself, but travel with children is a different kind.  It’s good too, but you have to accept limitations.  It was a fine time to turn in.  I will state right now that I didn’t vote to camp here.  I suggested moving on to the pay-to-camp campground  instead of parking here.  It was a festival night and it was already quite lively.  When we got back to the car at 8, the streets were crazier than before.  Everyone was having such a good time.  We drew the curtains, locked all the doors, and climbed into bed.  We packed along ear plugs for evening such as this and thank goodness we did.  We are parked outside the main plaza mashed in between hundreds of other vehicles.  Police drove around all night and partiers blasting their radios of Mexican music and loud singing revelers passed by ALL night.  It has died down quite a bit, but it’s 6 am and there is still music heard here and there.  The ear plugs were great to drown out the noise and made sleep possible.  This morning the church bells went off at 6.  I was happy to hear such a nice sound, but the nice bells quickly turned into a cacophony of ringing sounding more like, or exactly like the bells on a railroad crossing warning of a passing train.  It lasted for only a minute, but seemed much longer.  And roosters.  I’ve had roosters before and they didn’t time their crowing with the morning light.  These Mexican ones do.  There isn’t just one or two roosters in the vicinity, but hundreds all around.  They have been sounding off for an hour at least.  Crazy!! And I love it!  Now I am going to get up and try to make some bean, veggies, and eggs for breakfast.

[JOSH-  We were robbed in the night!  With hundreds of drunken partiers wandering around our car all through the night one of the less honest ones stole Heidi’s dog dish!  I had stuffed it back underneath the back of the car before we turned in and this morning it was gone. ]

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Jan 28 Friday.   We have been waking up about 6am every morning.  It isn’t very light out at that time, but there seems to be nothing for it.  I haven’t willingly seen that hour for a long time.  The sun sets so early here and after that there isn’t a whole lot we can do.  We don’t want to be out driving past dark and want to be settled in our camp.  Josh has had a hard time staying awake past 8.  Basically, Bjorn goes to bed and then a few minutes later, Josh does too.  Boring!  It was cold that morning (though warmer than any other place so far)so we had on our warm jackets and hats.  When our host came out to see us that morning, he was dressed up in many warm layers of clothing and that made me feel better about being a wimp.  When it warmed up, it did so in a hurry and in the same hour that I’d hat a wool hat on, I had changed into a skirt and t-shirt.  I’ll tell you, this desert land of Sonora certainly gets HOT in the daytime and I LOVE IT.

Wencescloe took a lot of time with us in the morning.  He made us some coffee in his outdoor kitchen and told us about his rancho and showed us around some.  We got to tour the hostel and see his library dedicated to environmental education and cultural preservation  He gave Bjorn a little kid’s book about caring for the earth.  Marco Whats-His-Name, the ninja-masked, Guevara’esque, guerilla leader of the  Zapatista movement, had stayed with him several times and was proud to how us the room he slept in.   [JOSH- Wencesloe was a communist.]   Afterwards we wanted to see his baby borregas or little lambs.  There were seven of them that needed bottle fed three times a day.  All three of us happily jumped in to help.  Wencescloe tried his best to talk Bjorn into staying with him as his little ranch hand while Josh and I continued our trip.  He said we could pick him up on the way home and that he’d return to us a skilled ranch hand and fluent in Spanish to boot.  It’d be pretty fun for Bjorn but I couldn’t part with my little travel buddy.  We had an enjoyable visit with him and recommend the place to anyone.

It got hot quickly and by noon it was at at least 70.  With the sun beating down on me through the window it felt more like 90 and IT WAS GREAT.  We had wanted to drive a lot further south, but it was 5 and the sun would be setting in no time at all.  We turned off into a little town by the sea.  After a botched attempt at a round-about, we were pulled over by the police.  Our Spanish was ridiculously poor at this point still and had a hard time communicating, but one of them spoke a little tiny bit of English and we stumbled across the communication gap.  He tried his best to explain the rules of the road to us.  When he was satisfied that we understood them (which we didn’t really) he let us go.  He had been very nice and helpful.  He went on to give the toll-free number to his station in case we needed anything and told us that we could camp right there on the beach and that the area was patrolled by police frequently in the evenings.  Excellent!  Being pulled over saved us at least $20 in camping fees.

After driving around a while and checking out our camping options, we settled on a nice flat spot between some scrubby bushes, and then ran out for a long beach walk.  The temperatures were perfect.  Even the water wasn’t too cold.  I don’t know why we even tried to keep Bjorn dry.  We should have known better and just had him strip his clothes at the car.  Heidi ran for all she was worth, tearing up and down the beach after seagulls.  There were so many beautiful seashell treasures that none of us could help ourselves but collect some of them.  The sun began setting just as we’d finished setting up camp.  A beautiful end to our second day in Mexico.   [JOSH- as we strolled happily on this nearly deserted,  beautiful beach I swore to return home with tales of Dangerous Mexico.  This secret must be closely guarded!]

Posted in Travelogue

The air was already warm early in the day.  Bjorn and I applied our sunblock first thing.  It started out around 50 degrees  and easily warmed up to 65.  It was perfect for an Alaskan.  This was our big day, the drive into Mexico was finally upon us.  It didn’t take long for us to reach the border.  We’d wanted to stop and see the ruins of an old mission, but were so preoccupied with the border that we blew right past it.  Maybe we can stop on the way back.   Tim gave us some suggestions on where to go to buy our Mexican car insurance and then the best route to take after that.  Other than having to wait for the agent to get back from her lunch hour it went smoothly.

[JOSH-  After thinking and planning for this day for so long it was a little surreal.  Having faced some daunting and scary things I know it’s best just to put one foot in front of the other, not think too much, and, next thing you know, you’re into it.  Shortly after, you’re through it.  I’ve never much believed all the gloomy tales of woe that have come at us from all angles ever since announcing these plans.  They surely are not consistent with any research I’ve done on the subject.  I believe I’m realistic about the risks of the trip but feel that, with some perspective, it’s no more risky than all kinds of (more accepted) things that people do.  Some people can’t make sense of what they don’t know or understand, some people can’t assess rumors or dramatized news stories critically, and some people are critical of plans that they know they’d never have the courage to carry out themselves.  Most are at least well meaning.   In any case I have to admit that all the discouragement we’ve endured did have some effect on me to where I half expected something to happen as we pulled away from the US Customs tent and across the imaginary international line.  Only about 12 hours in I could be wrong yet, but so far it’s just as I suspected:  These people are people too.  They have families, lives, jobs.  They smile a lot, offer to let us cut ahead in line at the supermarket, and patiently repeat a foreign word that I can’t pronounce over and over.  A strong military and police presence served to remind me that there is an internal struggle here.  It gave me comfort to see them patrolling.  An assault rifle carrying policeman did shout at us as we drove by him.  What did he say?  Was that a demand for a bribe?  He’s got a big smile on his face.. he said, “Nice car”!!

Part of what’s made this day a great success is the camping site we’ve settled into.  Dave and Ann of www.advodna.com stayed here and wrote about it on their very funny and entertaining travel blog and we also found it recommended in the Church & Church, Camping in Mexico book.  A 150 year old family owned hacienda/ranch that remains active in that capacity but has also made room for RV and other campers with cheerful hospitality and accommodations such as picnic tables and showers.  It’s very picturesque, quiet, and secure.

Crossing the border was a little confusing.  We got in the wrong lane, but easily backed up and got into the proper lane once we figured out why the man had come out of the booth and was frantically waving us backwards.  After a couple of questions from the border guards, we were on our way down the Mexican road.  There wasn’t any “Welcome to Mexico” sign, but it was still obvious that we were no longer in Kansas.  The next part was the confusing one.  We had to sign up for a car permit, tourist visas, ferry copies from one office to another in a typically bureaucratic inefficient fashion universal to bureaucracies around the world.  To do all this we had to pay in cash so needed to exchange our dollars for pesos.  No one spoke much English and we were a little bewildered to say the least.  It wasn’t as streamlined and obvious as I had assumed it would be.  No problem.  We were on our way.  A few miles down the road I said to Josh, “You know, I think that man in the tourist visa office told him to return the form to him with the receipt we picked up last proving that we had paid for it in the other office.”  The agent  had spoken  rapidly in Spanish and I wasn’t certain what he had said, but as we drove off I tried to replay the conversation in my mind and that thought nagged me.  Josh asked if we should turn around.  I thought that would mean having to go through the border again, so I voted to just keep driving because I was probably just over worrying and remembered wrong.  It seemed so horribly inefficient to have to run to so many stations that to have needed to run to even one more seemed absurd.  Josh decided to return and good thing he did.  Even though my Spanish is stronger, I sent him in to the office by himself.  It turned out that that was the office that stamped our passports, the most important part!  And we were off and running again.

Speeds were in kilometers now and seemed a little too slow for the road. Everyone here seems to drive at vastly different speeds and when you aren’t sure if you’ve caught all the signs or even read them properly, it makes it difficult to know what speed to go.  There are speed bumps the size of large logs (placed in a pattern that we have yet to understand) to slow you down intermittently.  We passed through the smaller towns quickly.  There were stands all along the road selling all sorts of food and mechanical help.  It was tempting.  Sellers stood by the road holding up bags of oranges and fresh tortillas for sale.   [JOSH- Not so tempting, the vendors selling plastic bags of shrimp, with surplus bags sitting out in the sun alongside the road.]

It was all exciting and a little nerve wracking all at the same time.  We looked up the address for Rancho Penasco near the little town of Santa Ana.  It was nice to have found our destination so easily and quickly.  When we pulled up we had to wait awhile for anyone to come out and in the meantime were swarmed with a variety of dogs.  Heidi went bananas in the car.  Our host, Wencescloe, came out and told us to park anywhere we’d like to in the back lot.  He told us about the place a little in some very broken English.  When we were sure we understood the areas for our use we decided to head back into the little town to look around.

It was a fairly small town with only a couple of main streets.  We drove around the housing areas a little and then headed to a large grocery store we’d passed on the way in.  This was a good chance to get our feet wet and practice functioning in non-English speaking Mexico.  I thought the importance of knowing Spanish was exaggerated.  It seems that it is not.  We muddled through the shopping experience and headed back to camp with our Sol beer, cucumber, broccoli, deodorant, and a cookie for Bjorn.  Sunset came early and we barely got our camp set up in time for the darkness to settle.  I was very tired and started to get cranky.  I accidentally highlighted and then deleted a whole posting.  I have not made friends with Windows 7 yet and couldn’t figure out how undo that dumb move nor could I get any photos to load.  I put it all down and instead read a few chapters of Doctor Doolittle to Bjorn before settling him down for bed.  I had to explore the grounds to find a bathroom in the dark.  I was so nervous that snakes  or scorpions would get me.  The night was pretty warm and the stars were amazing.  Josh even saw some shooting stars.  [JOSH-  What a pleasant spot.  Quiet, dark, and warm.  I even took the rare occasion to smoke my pipe as I sat back on the hood of the Land Rover and contemplated the constellations above.]

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