Mexican Decompression

After three months on the road, I'm finally back in Orlando - and it feels....

hot.

Seriously, as we were walking out of the airport at 1 AM, I could already feel the moisture condensing on my skin. And, this being Florida in the summer, there ain't much of a breeze.

However, it was pleasant to be home after our extended Mexican adventure. What? You want to know how I got stuck in Mexico for three days AFTER we camped at San Carlos for a week?

Well.




We left San Carlos in a leisurely fashion on Saturday afternoon. Wyatt rode his dirtbike out, I drove the truck. At some point, he pulled off to pee or check out a view or get mystic with the local plantlife (just kidding) and I passed him - without realizing it. Thinking he was ahead of me - far enough that he was way out of sight - I gunned it, averaging probably 40+. This may have had something do with what happened later, but probably not. To be honest, folks, the road in ain't that bad. There's been tales of a compact four-door making it all the way to San Carlos.



Anyhoo, we got outta the dirt, gassed up and grubbed in El Rosario, loaded the dirtbike in the truck (there was about two inches of clearances between the tire and the wheel well) and headed for El Norte.

As we passed through downtown Ensenada, Wyatt turned to me and said, 'Hey man, this town is kind of hoppin, maybe we should go out and party tonight and finish the drive tomorrow."

"Nah," I said, "let's just keep going."

Five minutes later.

"Well," I said, "maybe we should stop. It's already eight o'clock."

This time Wyatt demurred.

Finally we decided to scope out the motel situation and make our decision then.

So I went to push in the clutch and put the car in gear - and pushed the clutch straight to the floor. Clearly, our decision had been made for us.

The luckiest part was breaking down directly in front of two motels. One was booked, one wasn't. I was able to start the car in gear and drive it to the motel, and we got a room.

This being Saturday night, we knew our chances of finding a mechanic the next day were pretty slim. So we went out pretty big that night. Let me tell you - beer is cheap in Mexico!

We did get the trucked dragged to the Dodge dealership on Sunday, then on Monday they took 'er apart, and on Tuesday, put 'er back together. (Brand new clutch, master and slave cylinder. Cost $1200, comparable to the cost in the states.)


Having nowhere else to go, we spent a lot of time at the dealership, buddying up with the mechanics and drinking beer on the dealership steps. giving 'em mags and DVD's and stuff. Finally, at 6 PM on Tuesday, she was done - we paid the bill and got the hell outta town. We made it from Ensenada to Bezerkeley in a record 10 hours - including the border crossing. Now the truck's stashed up at Wyatt's family orchard near the Cache River, and I'm in Florida - we basically flew in, slept, and hit three days of Surf Expo - pictures and posts to come.




Somebody asked me to explain this picture. I won't, because I can't. This is all the explanation I got, so that's all the explanation you get.

Late update - Glad we didn't see this sign in Mexico: