Sunday, November 29, 2009
Location: San Carlos, Mexico

Drove all day today… was up at seven a.m. and headed down the highway towards the border yet again. This time better prepared, and more experienced, with 8mm camera by my side for driving snapshots of Nogalas.

I met a hydrology student in the park yesterday who gave me a few names of hydrologists to interview in Tucson. This is one of the main reasons this project has taken so long. Every time I’m about to leave a place, interviews appear, usually I stay a few more weeks, but this time I moved on. I can come back to these later if needed.

The signs are right for me to be going. I believe in signs and a natural rhythm to things that can act to inform us of change. I’ll never forget the day I decided to leave the Piikani Reservation. I was sitting in the picture window of the Littlewolf house, it was a cold fall day, and all of a sudden Morris’ cows wre coming across the field by the hundred. They had come home for winter, and for me it was a sign to leave south.

Yesterday I was sitting in my van in the park fixing a camera, when my van began to shake a bit. I pulled back the curtain to see out he front window. Outside the palm trees were swaying in the strong wind that had picked up. The soccer players out in the field played in what looked to be a small sandstorm.

I stepped outside and felt the gusts knocking me around. Moses came out with his head held high, nose pointing upwind. The clouds, rare for Tucson, toiled overhead. We both became a bit cold and hopped back into the shelter of Veronica.

The wind and I have a relationship. She speaks to me.

This morning my plan to leave was confirmed when I awoke to rain. It was cold and wet outside, again rare for Tucson.

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Moses and I were through the border in no time, and then to the tourist pass/vehicle importation checkpoint. All went well this time, although the procedure brought us into the afternoon.

Then off we went headed for a 25$ RV park in San Carlos. I had heard about staying in front of people’s houses, but wanted to spend my first night somewhere more secure. We didn’t really stop moving all day, except once, when I made two roast beef sandwiches and ate them afoot while walking Moses through a field next to the highway, strewn with trash.

The sun got lower, and I pushed Veronica a little harder, while keeping an eye out for cops. I was stopped once just past the checkpoint, for no apparent reason, he asked me to open my back doors, then let me go. Strange. I threw him off though I think by asking him a multitude of questions about Mexican speed limits. Something I learned from my brother, when the police stop you, talk to them a lot… often they’ll be too annoyed by your friendliness or lack of fear to press you. He probably doesn’t even remember teaching me that trick…

I feel like a pirate down here for some reason. I feel wild and rough. At the store before crossing the border I bought tow bottles of Captain Morgan Spiced Rum.. I don’t even drink.. but thought they might make good gifts/bribes for someone looking to jack my gear or give me a hard time. I guess that’s where the pirate image set in. But there’s something I love about being a little further off the map. I guess I just feel most of our North American reality has become a little rote and boring. We’ve lost our survival instincts, and there’s something about new and unfamiliar territory that brings us back to ourselves, and somehow back to life. Although I’m still by far in the safe zone, and don’t intend to go looking for trouble… just beauty, and adventure.

Anyways, we were racing against the sun and things lined up just right as we pulled into San Carlos just as the sky was turning black, leaving dusk, as night fell.

The guys at the RV park took one look at my van, spoke in Spanish about $25 dollars, but then laughed and asked me for 14$… it pays to have your rig look like a piece of junk… haha. For most people Mexicans up the price, for a vagabond like me, the price falls. I must be doing something right ;-)

Moses and I wend for a walk along the beach to unwind after seven hours of driving. I dropped him at the van where he dove into his food dish, while I went to a nearby restaurant for a fairly cheap dinner. Another walk afterwards, now blogging… and to bed.

G’Night Mexico, it’s nice to have met you. I feel good in your arms.

Peace,d