April 23, 2007
Sacramento, CA

The Great Mexican Adventure : The Final Word

[ Note: This is the last entry regarding the Great Mexican Adventure on this blog. For maximum enjoyment, if you haven’t been following along, I would recommend going back in the archives to at least March 11 (click here) when this part of the adventure really began. For those of you who have been following this trip on this blog, be advised that there will be more adventure coming in late May/early June when we head to the northwest for a couple of months.)

. . . . . .
April 19-20

In case you are wondering, the condensed version of the last couple days is that we successfully retrieved our old-dog Carly from Las Vegas (she happily remembered us, and was watching for us from the second floor balcony), drove to Barstow, where we had stashed the rig at the Shady Lane RV Camp, then drove about 8 hours, arriving home about 5:30 (dropping the rig off at the storage yard first).

Initially, as we drove north on Highway 99 (to avoid the crumpled pavement of I-5), I was mentally composing my letter of thanks to Gov. Schwarzenegger for the fine job of fixing Highway 99. However, upon reaching Stockton and transferring over to I-5, it became apparent that the Guv hadn’t done squat about that highway. It still has some breathtaking cracks and potholes, though it looked like somebody had tossed a few bags of asphalt fix-all in a few places.

About the only excitement of the ride was our lunch stop at Carl's Jr. in Tulare. I was dying for an In-and-Out Burger, but there were none in the area when the lunch bell rang. So, opting for a Carl’s Jr. Angus Burger, Janice picked up the burgers while I walked Carly around the adjacent K-Mart parking lot. Janice returned to the rig carrying a bag that had me drooling. The sweet smell of French fries.

Opening rather large paper containers that touted the superb taste of the “$6.oo Angus Burger,” my salivary glands were in overdrive. I took a bite and got a mouthful of bun, tomato and lettuce. Readjusting the burger so I could get to the patty hiding under the lettuce, I took another bite. “Hey, no meat,” I exclaimed.
“Where’s the beef?” replied Janice.

How could anybody in a fast food joint put together a burger and forget the meat??
“Did you ask for the vegetarian burger?” I quizzed Janice.

Anyway, she returned to the burger joint while Carly and I passed the time flipping French fries in our mouths.

Janice returned with real meat burgers this time, although I don’t think I have ever tasted a more tasteless burger. To heck with this pricey Angus meat, I’ll take one of those ground-up, worn-out dairy cows any time. In the process of returning the burgers, Janice advised that the ‘flipper’ got a good chewing-out by the boss, and by now has probably lost his day job and can now spray paint graffiti in Tulare 24/7.

Following that unsatisfying snack, it was back on the road. For the last 1000 plus miles (ever since the Road from Hell death ride in Baja), there has been an intermittent buzzing noise under my dash. Adding to this distraction, every two minutes, the warning light for my anti-lock braking system (ABS) would come on, accompanied by a 5-second warning signal. I did my best job of trouble-shooting these annoyances, but to no avail. I knew I had brakes, it’s just that the ABS might not be working. This was not something I wanted to entrust to a Mexican mechanic along the Baja highway, so I just put up with it, saving it for an extended visit to my Winnebago dealer. I found that if I turned up the country western music real loud, I couldn’t even hear the buzz and the ding. However, I think that I may have discovered a new bloodless torture to use in the war against terror.

April 22

Well, now that we’re home, (map) I’ve done a bit of reflecting about our Mexican adventure.

The caravan was one of the greatest adventures that Janice and I have undertaken. With a few exceptions (the van-ride of terror to the mission school and the initial arrival Easter weekend at Playa del Sucko), the tour was well thought out and well-organized.




Our leaders, Wagonmaster Larry and Wagonmistress (can I say that?) Evelyn did a tremendous job of leading our group, and courageously held the point position against the oncoming hordes of big-rigs. Tail-gunners Ralph and Pam starred in their supporting role.

The rest of the cast, our fellow ‘roadies,’ was as fine a group of 34 people that one would ever want to share such an adventure with (call it an 'achievement'). By the time we had endured the train ride strapped to the top of a flatcar, dry-camping for 5 days, and sharing a few margaritas (soft drinks for some), there was strong bonding that had begun. It was cemented as we relied on each other for info. over the CB during some driving experiences that can modestly be described as 'challenging.' A few got sick along the way and were nursed back to health by the group. (I even got chicken soup when I was down for a day or so.)

While I could write colorfully about these people individually in great detail, I have chosen not to up to this point, and believe that I’ll maintain this practice. The ‘detail’ would be very positive about interesting folks who have spent a lot of time RVing. Differing backgrounds and a mix of personalities. Everyone had a ‘story.’ Almost all were retired, and enjoying it very much. Not a harsh word was spoken between any of us, which is pretty amazing given the stresses that we faced at times. We thank them all for their support and their friendship during this journey. Most of all, we hope to share a campfire or a sunset with them down the road.

Great memories, and each of us had our own highlights. A few of mine:

1) The amazing technological and construction achievement in building the Copper Canyon rail system, evidenced by 83 or so tunnels, numerous bridges, sweeping rides down the side of mountains and cuts towering over the train.
2) Mexican dance—especially the students at Rosa's Cantina in LaJunta. (but not the ones wearing the BVDs.)
3) The Beach at Tecolote, especially for those of us fortunate to be in the ‘annex’ camp.
4) The tip of Baja—as viewed from a boat. A trademark view.
5) Easter services conducted by gringos on a Mexican beach.
6) Cuesta del Infierno. A steep curvy ride, seemingly straight uphill.
7) Lunch at El Pardon, Mulege. Delicioso.
8) The strong sense of morality I sensed about the Mexican people.

Of course, there were a few low-lights:

1) Playing Baja-road roulette with on-coming trucks. “'Semi' coming from the front.”
2) Odors. Mexico is a country of unusual odors, some identifiable, some not. None forgettable.
3) Garbage: As it is written in Collapse by Jared Diamond, my last ‘read’ on the trip, when referring to a quote by a resident of the Dominican Republic: "The apocalypse here will not take the form of an earthquake or a hurricane, but of a world buried in garbage.” Mexico, too, I think.
4) Plastic bags and plastic bottles. Everywhere. Old tires dot the countryside.
5) Air pollution and water pollution; the latter is particularly bad along the beaches on holiday weekends, thanks to human 'contributions.'
6) Barking dogs and crowing roosters.
8) No room at the beach!
9) The golf course at Cabo Country Club where a sewage settling pond doubled as a water hazard! Phew! Just hit the ball and move on! Quickly.

And then there were sights we will never forget:

1) Mexican country peasants on the mainland living in shacks, tending fields with mule-power. Transportation by foot, horse or bicycle on trails.
2) Loading the rigs on flatcars.
3) The loading/unloading of the ferry.
4) Poor kids….always smiling.
5) Half-finished construction: Roads. Condos. Houses. Hotels. You name it.
6) Hilltop villas overlooking the Pacific Ocean at Cabo. Ultra wealth.
7) Cactus. Cactus. Cactus.
8) Brown hills. Brown mountains.
9) Dust. Dirt. Dust. Dirt.
10) Topes. Topes. Topes.
11) Eager vendors.
12) The ‘fresh’ meat, fish and fowl of the Mexican marketplace.
13) Watching the numbers on the pump at the Pemex station.
14) Looking for the International Space station (found it one night!).
15) Ana's Cantina at Playa del Sucko (for a link to 'the song' at the Cantina that was simply shocking to many of us, click here. But please don't click if you are offended by the "f' word.")

And the "Best of the Caravan” awards are as follows:

1) Best lunch: El Patron, Mulege. Fish soup, fish tacos—take your pick.
2) Best dinner: Dined out at the Inn at Mazatlan. Terrible service, though.
3) Best RV park: Estero Beach, Ensenada.
4) Best tour guide: (tie) Chilly-Willie (Mazatlan) and Guillermo (La Paz)
5) Best bakery: Santa Rosalia
6) Best margaritas: Tie: Copper Canyon Overlook (hotel) and Mulege (restaurant)
7) Best beach: Tecolote
8) Best group adventure: Cabo Dinner cruise (aka the ‘booze cruise’)
9) Best optional activity (tie) ATVs in Los Barilles and ‘Zipping’ in Cabo. We didn't 'zip' but the 'zippers' really enjoyed this one.
. . . . . .

This brings me to the moment of truth: Would I ever take this tour again?
Nope. This is strictly a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Do it more than that and you may be tempting the odds on the Baja highways.

Would I recommend it to anybody else for the first time?
Absolutely. But be cautioned, that this is not a venture for rookies or creaky rigs. It is not a cruise, but a dry land river-rafting expedition. ‘Experienced drivers only.’

. . . . .
I am grateful for my road-lady, Janice, whose love and companionship was the real highlight of this adventure for me. We sure had a lot of fun!