PERCEBU SPRING ’97
"..my rendezvous is so long overdue,all the things I’ve sung and I’ve read.."
Prologue
"..that's what the people like to read about back in America.."
It's March 10th, and I'm beginning my preparations for Laguna Percebu '97. Percebu is a small campground about 20 miles south of San Felipe on the shore of the Sea of Cortez. It was during one of these trips umpteen years ago that I picked up my nickname of Mr. Fun, and I'm determined to keep the title. For those of you who aren’t parrotheads, the phrases in italics are appropriate snippets from Jimmy Buffett songs, more commonly known as "Buffettisms".
A group of my friends has been meeting in Percebu every year during the week before Easter since about 1980, for a week of partying, drinking, and general debauchery. I missed the party for the first time ever last year, so I'm really anxious to get there this year. I'm the godfather to the grandson of the owner, which helps fuel my need to make my periodic visits [not to mention all the college co-eds there on spring break].
Today I'm in San Diego in the middle of a three day trip to purchase some computer gear for the hotel. As part of my trip preparations I've phoned Lance Brean, who has married into the family that owns Laguna Percebu, to let him know I'll be arriving at Percebu sometime during the afternoon of the 17th. Apparently Lance won't be making the trip this year, but his wife, Amparo, will be running the t-shirt concession as usual.
Documenting the trip will be fun, as I now have a digital camera and palmtop computer. Additionally, I'll be bringing along my Skycell satellite telephone to keep in touch with Rancho Leonero during the trip.
March 12
Got back to Leonero last night. Was up late catching up on the books so I would have so time today to start organizing for the trip.
Spoke with Discover Baja Travel Club to check on road conditions on the Laguna Chapala / Gonzaga Bay / Puertocitos shortcut to San Felipe and Percebu. This 75 mile stretch of volcanic washboard road can save a 420 mile loop around through Ensenada, but it's usually in such bad condition you're glad to take the long way to save the wear and tear on your car. The last time I tried this route, 4 years ago, I suffered 3 flat tires, a collapsed front suspension, and a damaged fuel tank. I swore then I'd never try this road again, but it seems time does dull one's memory sufficiently to doom us to repeating our mistakes. Discover Baja advised the shortcut was in bad shape, as expected, so I'm reserving judgment on which way to go.
Started preparations today by breaking out the camping gear, and having the bedding cleaned. Also started maintenance work on the quad and Jeep in anticipation of heavy use.
March 13
Discovered a bad rear pinion seal on the Jeep. Took the quad into town with the hope of finding the correct seal at the local auto parts store. My luck was holding as Freddy walked out of his stockroom with a smile on his face holding the new seal. Returned to the ranch and completed all the mechanical maintenance on the Jeep.
Found that the cover on my camping mattress has rotted, so I'm hoping the local upholstery shop can re-cover it by Saturday.
March 15
Worked all day yesterday trying to get work completed so I can leave on time. Dismantled Skycell phone to take on trip - was relieved to see that internal battery would still take a charge after not being used in over a year.
The upholstery shop let me down and didn't get my camping mattress re-covered on time. I grabbed a couple of thick bedspreads from the laundry room and will use them as a substitute mattress.
Got the Jeep loaded this afternoon, and will leave early in the morning. Have heard several horror stories from recent travelers of the Gonzaga Bay road - am reconsidering going the long way around - will decide when I get there.
"..I’ve got a schoolboy’s heart, a novelist’s eye, stout sailor’s legs and a license to fly,I come with nomad feet and some wandering toes.."
March 16
".. You need a holiday, just take a holiday.."
Got up at 5 - finished packing and had breakfast with my soulmate parrot, Ranger. I asked him to keep an eye on things as I made sure all the Jimmy Buffett CD's were packed before departing Rancho Leonero at exactly 7:00. Made first gas stop at El Cien. Road in good condition and traffic is light - arrived in Loreto at 11:53 - a new personal record. Thought I'd treat myself to lunch at El Nido - unfortunately they were closed. Drove through town and found a nice little restaurant for lunch. Got more gas and continued north.
Stopped at San Ignacio for gas and continued to Guerrero Negro. I decided to stay at the Malarrimo Motel there as it was almost dark when I arrived. I usually make it a point to eat at Malarrimo's restaurant whenever passing through here. Upon entering the dining room, I hear a "Hey Roy" from one of the tables [I'm infamous for running into people I know in out of the way places in Baja]. It's the Kirschner's from Los Barriles who have stopped here on their way south. We had a nice dinner together, and now I'm going to watch TV for a bit before turning in.
March 17
"..Take another road to a hiding place, disappear without a trace.."
Happy St. Patrick's Day. Called John on the Skycell phone from my room - this has to be the best toy I've ever had! Topped off gas and bought ice before leaving town.
About 15 miles north I hit the obligatory military drugs/guns checkpoint. I have a momentary scare as the M-16 equipped soldiers discover my not-so-well-hidden money bag containing more than $4,000 dollars. They give each other a look of disbelief as I explain that it's money for my vacation - after a few tense moments they finally shrug their shoulders and let me pass.
At 10am stopped at Laguna Chapala turnoff for San Felipe. As we are human and bound to repeat our mistakes, I've decided to take the shortcut. I've dropped the air in the tires down to 20 lbs. and reset the trip odometer, so here I go.
Totally amazing - it's 11:45, the odometer reads 33 miles, and I'm in front of Alfonsina's at Gonzaga Bay. The Jeep is running perfectly, so I decide to keep going.. At 2pm the odometer reads 77 miles as I reach Puertocitos and pavement. It's apparent I made the right decision to take the shortcut, as I calculate if I'd stayed on the main road, I would have barely reached Ensenada by now, leaving me with an additional 4 hour drive to get here.
At 2:45 I roll into Percebu, just in time to join Jorge and his family in a BBQ sheep dinner. Afterwards, I set up camp, make a couple of phone calls, and turn in early.
March 18
"..he worked hard all year and just wanted a few weeks alone.."
Mama gets up and makes me a chorizo breakfast even though I'm the only person here. I've put it off as long as possible - it's time for an infamous Percebu cold shower - this redefines the term brisk!
I've noticed that all the signs now read Rancho Percebu instead of the traditional Laguna Percebu. I ask Jorge what's going on. He advises me that in classic Mexican thinking, since the laguna is in the federal zone, the property Jorge's family owns can no longer have the word "Laguna" in it's common name, hence the change to "Rancho". I guess beaurocrats are the same wherever you go.
Since there's no action here yet, I've decided to drive into town to get the Jeep washed and gassed. After a stop at Pemex I treat the Jeep to a hand wash and wax job. I've now circled the town twice searching for our favorite taco vendor, Kiko. We've been eating Kiko's tacos for at least 15 years, but I now fear this tradition has come to an end, as I can't find a trace of him. I'm hoping he'll show up later this week.
I do get real excited when I notice a new cellular tower in the middle of town - whipping out my cell phone I'm delighted to see it works here. After making a few calls, including one to my mom, she informs me that she's totaled her car and wants me to get her a new one. Since she can't drive for a couple of weeks while recovering, I let her know I'll take care of it when I get back. What else are sons for!
I head back to Percebu for some great tacos, and decide now's a good time to start the one week a year I permit myself to engage in unrestricted drinking. In less than an hour I've drunk 3 cazuelas, the house drink that put Percebu on the map. A cazuela consists of a large clay bowl filled with fruit chunks, tequila and rum, juices, Coke and ice, and is designed to be passed around a group. I stumble back to my tent and pass out until about 5pm.
After discovering no lingering effects from the cazuelas, I drive into town for a mesquite-cooked steak dinner at El Nido - it was well worth the trip. After picking up some ice, it's back to Percebu.
March 19
"..some people claim that there's a woman to blame, but I know it's my own damn fault.."
After all the sleep yesterday, woke up at 4:30 to look out my window for a great view of the Hale-Bopp comet. With no peripheral light here, the comet shined like a beacon.
I was supposed to phone Jeane' in San Diego yesterday afternoon, but the cazuelas got in the way. Called her at work this morning and explained what happened, and agreed I'd call her at home this afternoon.
Spent the morning doing some reading. I've invited Jorge and his family to dinner in San Felipe tonight, but he is too busy preparing for this weekend, so we decide to do it next Monday or Tuesday. Only drank 2 cazuelas with my tacos at lunch. Had some visitors arrive from Canada; we talked for a bit. While waiting for my phone call to Jeane', I downloaded the digital photos taken so far into the laptop.
Talked to Jeane' at the appointed hour and exchanged regrets she couldn't be here - this provided me with ample incentive to return to the bar, which is what I'm going to do. Had entertainment while drinking more cazuelas - watched a couple of stupid gringos get their cars stuck right in front of the bar, not more than 10 feet from hard ground. It took them more than half an hour to figure out all they had to do was let the air out of the tires - once they did they were unstuck in no time.
I need to comment on the weather - it's perfect - about 85 during the day with a breeze out of the northeast and about 65 at night - perfect for sleeping.
My friends Al, Scott and Doug are supposed to be arriving late tonight at Pete's Camp, about 9 miles north of San Felipe. I figure to take the quad up there early in the morning and spend the day with them. In the meantime, I'm going to drive into town tonight for my last quiet evening.
Headed into town for another great dinner - this time a plate of huge shrimp at one of the many sidewalk restaurants. The town is still quiet, but preparations are quite evident for the big weekend still to come. Brought the laptop with me to recharge the battery through the cigarette lighter adapter, but the damn thing won't work - I guess it's my fault for not checking that it worked when I bought it. I'll just wait until Jorge runs the generator this weekend to recharge the computer.
March 20
"..and I'm out here beneath the sun and the stars.."
Woke up at sunrise - all this rest and relaxation must be taking their toll - I feel really good today. Looking forward to the quad ride up 20 miles of beach into town. I've decided to leave early and have breakfast in San Felipe on the way to Pete's Camp. I've gassed the quad, packed a daypack - I'm on my way.
The beach is fast and flat. Last night's high tide has smoothed the sand and it's fifth gear all the way. Topped off with gas as I entered town. Had a great breakfast of steak rancheros at Rosita's on the malecon, then proceeded through the pass between two mountains to get to the beaches north of town to head towards Pete's Camp. Once I get to Al's camp, I see it's deserted. Heading up to the restaurant, I find the entire group having breakfast. I join them for a few beers, then we head back to their camp to start setting things up. We're inundated with beach vendors. I buy Al's son, Ryan, a silver ring he wanted, and a dolphin mobile for the kitchen at Percebu. After completing camp setup, we decide to head into town to stock up on beers and fireworks. As I am on my quad and the others are in their trucks, we agree to meet at the Beachcomber restaurant. Once there, we find out they won't admit Ryan, so we wander down the malicon until we find a taco stand which also sells beers. After beers and tacos, we ask if the taco stand owners know where our friend Kiko might be. To our surprise, they indicate that Kiko has relocated a couple of streets over.
As we are getting ready to leave, a huge rig pulls in towing 2 jeeps, a 1/2 ton truck, and 8 quads. After checking out this massive rig, we decide to split up, with me heading back to Percebu, and Al and the others will buy beers and fireworks and head back to Pete's. Before heading back, we agree that I'll drive up tomorrow to spend the day together.
By this time I'm pretty burned out, so I decide to shorten the trip home by taking the pavement back. I first try to find our friend Kiko, but am having no luck locating him. I figure we'll try again tomorrow, and continue south to Percebu. Upon returning to camp, I down a couple of cazuelas, and decide to shower all this baja dirt off me. The afternoon sun has heated the shower water, allowing me the luxury of a lengthy warm shower. After getting out of the shower, guess who's shown up at Percebu - the big rig we saw in town.
While talking to the big rig owner, we get buzzed by 3 ultra-light aircraft stopping here for a drink before moving on.
Marcos' wife, Gaby, has shown up, so I arrange to give her a Sr. Divertido t-shirt, and then download today's photos before it gets dark.
I've accidentally erased all of today's photos, so I retake the shots of the big rig and the ultra-lights, and will reshoot the photos of Al's camp tomorrow. I figure I'd also better download this document into the laptop, in case I do any more stupid things.
Since a few more people have shown up, Lupe has decided to fire off the generator in order to leave the bar and restaurant open after dark. After a chile relleno dinner, I hang for a while watching the Hale-Bopp comet in the evening sky.
March 21
"..night and day they're raising hell.."
Zero hour is upon us. The nighttime tranquillity I've been spoiled with since getting here was repeatedly shattered during the night with the arrival of several groups of campers who turned the excitement of arrival into a party which lasted until 4am. I figure to get even early this morning when I ride my quad in front of their camps. At 6am I fire off the quad, but upon reaching the new arrival's camp, I'm disappointed that they're already up with the stereo blasting away chicano music.
There's mas chorizo for breakfast with Damon and Zeke, a couple of San Diego boys here for their first trip. Jorge got back late last night from a shopping trip to Mexicali for bar supplies. As they're unloading this morning I run into Raul, one of Jorge's friends who has been bartending here during Easter week for as long as I can remember. After making sure he's properly attired with a Sr. D t-shirt, I'm thinking about just staying here today, and catching up with Al and the boys in town tonight.
Called the hotel this morning to see which crisis’s I'll need to deal with today. Found out the evening kitchen staff got caught stealing food. I advised Amy how to write suspension letters for the offenders. She advises everything else is OK at Leonero.
As I'm writing this, Damon and Zeke walk on over and tell me they've gotten their truck stuck and ask if I'll pull them out. As in countless times past, it's Mr. Fun to the rescue. I'm quite sure this won't be the last time this weekend I'll be called upon for similar services.
We get early entertainment on the beach. One of last night's newcomers decides to show off his skills on his Banshee quad. As he comes racing down the beach, he nearly flips the quad on a rock. He no sooner makes a recovery, and the bike dies - sounds suspiciously like he left the choke on and fouled the plugs. After several minutes of trying to get the bike restarted, he dejectedly takes off his helmet and walks back to his camp to get a tow vehicle. They make a big production of trying to get the bike running, and after a while they give up and wind up towing the quad back to camp.
I've figured out why I don't drink much anymore - I'm too good at it. It's 9:30 and I've already started on the cazuelas - with no visible effects. This proves the old adage that just because you're good at something doesn't mean you should be doing it.
Campo is still pretty quiet; I think I'll hang for a while and maybe head into town a bit later. Spend some time reading, and watch the laguna fill up as high tide approaches. In a couple of days we'll have a full moon, and the bay will fill in completely - I'll take some photos then, full at high tide and empty at low tide. This will be the first time in several years that the lunar cycle is cooperating to provide a high tide and full laguna during the middle of the day. A couple of WaveBlasters start playing in the water now that the laguna is filling in to a sufficient depth.
Damon, Zeke and I all meet up in the bar and play some cards while reconning for unattached women. I introduce them to the wondrous curative powers of tacos and cazuelas. Afterwards we all opt for some siesta time in anticipation of fiesta time later.
My worst nightmare appears to be unfolding - several carloads of Hispanics start setting up camp next to me. I'm envisioning ghetto blasters spewing out mariachi and chicano ump-pa music until the middle of the night and fireworks until dawn. After introducing myself, I find out they're relatives of Jorge, and are just here for a quiet weekend - the perfect camping neighbors. Since I no longer need to protect my camp spot, I guess I'll go into town tonight and try to hook up with Al and the gang.
I've noticed Jorge is running the generator for music in the bar, so I head on over to plug in the laptop to recharge the battery. The ultra-lights are back, and my neighbors give it a try - US$10 for 10 minutes. After the first courageous soul goes up, the rest are lined up to give it a try. I'd consider it, but my last experience with an ultra-light was to watch one crash at the Palmas airstrip in Los Barriles - no thanks! Pretty soon some nutcase decides to parachute out of the ultra-light. They spend about 20 minutes getting enough altitude and the guy jumps - he freefalls about half the way down, pops his chute and comes in for a standup landing right in front of the camp - that's a tough act to follow.
I have dinner at the Percebu restaurant with Don Dunn, a local who's claim to fame is the "Barney-mobiles" he fabricates. He'll take an old car, remove the body and make a metal frame, turning it into an open-seat buggy, which reminds us of the cars in the Flintstones cartoon, hence the name "Barney-mobile".
At about 7 I start my trip north to visit Al and the gang. I get as far as town, then make the fatal mistake of stopping at the Miramar, a local watering hole of legendary proportions. After a couple of drinks I decide I'm too alcohol-impaired to continue, so I limp on back home.
My previously amicable camp neighbors have become the campers from hell. Several of them spent the better part of the night perfecting their projectile vomiting technique right next to my tent.
March 22
"..passed out in my hammock, God I slept 'till way past noon.."
Woke up at 7 - hung over big time. After stress-testing the plumbing, I thought perhaps some food might help. Even ham & eggs, 3 aspirin washed down with fresh orange juice didn't put a dent in the way I'm feeling. Went back to bed - woke back up at 12:30 - feeling a little better. The tide is all the way in. Guess I'll check out the bar action while waiting to see if Al will show up.
About 1:30 things really start to get wild. Amparo and Lupita have shown up from San Diego and the cazuela bar really starts to happen. Cars start to roll in from everywhere. Before you know it there's probably 400 people in the bar. Al and the gang show up with a couple of girls in tow they've picked up. As the cazuelas keep flowing things start to get crazy, with girls taking off their tops and doing the bump-and-grind with anyone passing by. I've completely forgotten about my hangover. Al's girlfriend, Jodi, is as hammered as I've ever seen her, she's literally swinging from the ceiling.
After everyone's completely blitzed, the group consensus is to take the trucks out to the point to look for sand dollars. After realizing the truck won't cross the laguna, we start around the long way. We only make it about a mile before everyone's bladders give out. After contributing much needed liquid to the dry lake bed we've stopped at, we now have to listen to Al complaining how he needs to poop but doesn't want to do it in the open. The guys then decide to shoot off the golf ball cannon, a homemade device powered by an M-80. Jodi starts running around spraying water on everybody. Eventually everyone gets tired and bored and lose interest in the sand dollar run, and decide to head home. We stop back at Percebu to split up. As they drive off into the sunset, I can see Jodi hanging out the window preparing for the obligatory hurl we all expect will happen before they get back to their camp. Ahh, life doesn't get much better than this!
A siesta seems to now be the order of the day, but my head has barely hit the pillow when the sound of a riot unfurling at the bar draws me like a magnet. By the time I get there it's all over. It's apparent that the potentially explosive mixture of testosterone and cazuelas has gone to critical mass, with 3 separate fights breaking out within seconds of each other. The combatants have all jumped into their cars and driven off, and an errie silence descends over the bar. The prospects of recapturing the party mood have died for the time being. The younger crowd drifts off in preparation for the ritualistic Saturday night in San Felipe, while those of us a little more seasoned kick back and relax at camp. I've had about as much fun as I can take for one day and turn in.
March 23
"..where's the party?.."
It's a quiet morning as just about everyone is recovering from yesterday. I find Melodie from our San Diego bank and her husband Scott at their campo. We visit for a bit and I get invited over for a homemade steak and eggs breakfast - how could I refuse? I bring over some t-shirts and after a great meal we start on what Melodie refers to as "health drinks", and I entertain everyone by reading from this journal and showing yesterday's photos through the camera's LCD display.
After a nap to recover from Melodie's health drinks, I think I'll try to make that previously promised trip to Pete's camp to see how everyone, especially Jodi, survived yesterday's bout of self-induced alcohol poisoning. A few tacos later, the bar starts to heat up in a repeat of yesterday's action, making me reevaluate the wisdom of my plans. However, the crowd is pretty young and mostly Mexican, so I go ahead and start north anyway.
On the way to Pete's, I pass several cars being pulled out of the sand. It's a sad commentary on the decline of western civilization when we can teach 6 year olds how to use computers, while we seem incapable of giving college students enough common sense to keep from driving their daddies' cars out on the soft sand.
Heading north out of San Felipe, there's at least 20 empty tour buses parked at the edge of town, patiently awaiting the call to retrieve their charges for the long trip back to the U.S.
Once arriving at Pete's, the wind is howling, and the entire group is about as much fun as a turd in a punch bowl. Robert crashed on his quad this morning, severing his Achilles tendon to go along with his earlier broken tooth. The rest of the guys are just sitting around looking at Mexican porno magazines, while the girls are working on their tans. Scott is out playing with his sex toy, Kellie. Surprisingly, the one with the most energy is Jodi. She seems to have no lingering effects from yesterday, and is busy making lunch, riding the quad, and, as always, keeping Al's drink full. She's the best! Al and I try to cajole the others into a road trip, and Al and Doug make it as far as to get their shoes on. However, no one else is taking the bait, so I get impatient and decide to leave Camp No Fun to their misery. As I'm leaving Ryan shows up after an extended dirt bike ride. He's so pissed off at Al he can't even talk to him. Apparently Al sent him off riding with a near-empty gas tank, and Ryan ran out of gas while racing some other kid, causing him great embarrassment. Ryan is definitely his father's son.
Back at Percebu, the party seems to be over, with several empty camping spots and few people in the bar. After a double order of Mama's award-winning shrimp, I head on over to Melodie's place to watch the once in a lifetime celestial event of the Hale-Bopp comet setting in the west as a full lunar eclipse is occurring in the east. The experience is almost spiritual, and upon turning in, I thank the gods above for all my good fortune and all the things I've seen and done in my life.
March 24
"..there's booze in the blender, and soon it will render that frozen concoction that helps me hang on, hang on, hang on, hang on.."
As things have slowed down a bit and Jorge and the family can relax a little, I've decided that today will be the ideal time for "cocktails de divertido". It's a tradition I started about 10 years ago. Waiting until the crowd has thinned out a bit, I'll pick a slow afternoon while the family is still all here, and prepare my famous rum and fruit blender drinks for everyone. I've asked Lupe to pick up some bananas and strawberries on his shopping run this morning; we have everything else necessary on hand.
Damon and Zeke just pulled out. We've said our good-byes and will probably see each other again here next year. I break out the Skycell phone, and call Rancho Leonero. Nothing significant to report, so we agree I'll call back Thursday morning. The phone is a hit with the campers, with everyone coming over to check it out.
I cruise on over to the Dunn's to give them some info on Rancho Leonero, but no one's at home - I'll try again later. It's 9am and I almost make the mistake of starting on the cazuelas. Stop at Melodie's to invite them to this afternoon's party.
Drove around admiring some of the homes here. Most everything is built using a multi-colored tan and brown brick made in Mexicali. I've decided that when I build a home in Leonero, I'm going to build with this product, as it doesn't exist there, and will provide a unique look to set my home apart.
It's almost 10, and I finally succumb to my penchant for cazuelas. A quick nap is the result, and as I wake up at noon to the drone of the shrimp boats passing Percebu, the laguna is filling in with the high tide, my head is clear, life is good!
The bar is filling up with an older crowd, I guess all the college kids have burnt out or have gone home. There's an ample supply of fruit for fun drinks, courtesy of Melanie and Scott, and Jorge has all the rum and ice we need, so I make sure the motoblend is ready for action. The motoblend is a conventional bar blender powered by a weed-eater gas motor, so no electricity is needed. It's perfect for parties at the beach, or parking lot tailgating. I bought this one last year, but haven't been able to get it down to Leonero. Al brought it down with him and brought it over the other day - thanks Al.
Amparo and Lupita have prepared all the strawberries, and Melodie and Scott should be back soon, so I get the motoblend set up in the corner of the cazuela bar and proceed with fun drinks. The motoblend is the hit of the bar, with everybody coming over to check it out. Unfortunately, after a few uses the motoblend breaks, so I have to resort to using Jorge's regular bar blender for the rest of the afternoon.
Four college girls on spring break from Chico State have moved in next to me. After introductions, I give them some much-needed chocolate, then spend the evening with them at the bar talking about living in Mexico.
March 25
"..I'm an over-forty victim of fate.."
Had breakfast with the girls this morning. They're attempting a low-budget vacation, while at the same time trying to study - they have yet to understand that the two don't mix. They seem concerned yet optimistic about what life has in store for them, which is a refreshing change. The notebooks of their lives are full of empty pages waiting to be filled. To repeat the ageless lament, "It's a shame that youth is wasted on the young". If I was their age and knew what I now know, I could rule the world. Their presence here has caused me to consider delaying my planned return to Leonero for a couple of days, making me believe Buffett was writing about me when he said "I'm growing older but not up".
The girls are enchanted with all my electronic toys. I fall into my father-protector role and advise them that I am a classic example of what hard work and a good education can provide, and that they better pursue their degrees to completion.
The wind has picked up a bit, and is putting a damper on things. A few people are drifting into the bar. The wear and tear of the last several days are showing on the staff, as it's 11:30 before the cazuela bar gets open. The girls have decided to go to town to get supplies, and we've agreed to meet later to have a few cazuelas. In the meantime tacos and siesta are the order of the day.
The girls are gone and the bar action is a bit slow, so I spend some time working on the photos taken so far, then go and visit Mel and Scott for a while. The girls get back about 5, and they're immediately ready for cazuelas. The bar crowd mixes really well tonight, so we spend the next several hours shooting pool and drinking cazuelas. During this time, I also spend some time visiting with Jorge and the family. Taking photos of everyone, the family is amazed at the camera's ability to display the photo on the viewscreen within seconds of being taken.
Later on, the girls try to impress me with their culinary skills - cup-a-soup over a camp stove. I think they need some lessons from Melodie. We spend the rest of the evening listening to Tam talk about her ex-boyfriend, and I dispense the wisdom of the ages. We later discovered that Kristin likes to snore.
Scott shows up looking for Marcos; some friends of theirs have shown up and got their truck stuck right in front of Scott's place. He wants Marcos to use his loader to pull them out. We shut down the fun drinks and make a big production of unsticking Scott's friend. We give him a hard time, as he has gotten stuck in the only patch of soft sand for 50 yards. After pulling the rig out, we head back to the bar and polish off the rest of the fun cocktails.
Melodie creates another one of her culinary experiences, with stuffed jalapeno peppers and steamed clams to start with, followed by two salads, breadsticks, pork roast, mashed potatoes & gravy, and steamed veggies. I've died and gone to heaven!
March 26
"..I have been drunk now for over two weeks, I passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks.."
And boy, did I spring a few leaks. Was up most of the night with Montezuma’s revenge. Between bathroom runs I meet the girls for breakfast. I was thinking about leaving today, but not until I can fix my butt.
Head into town about mid-morning, to get gas and medicine. The Pemex station isn’t nearly as crowded as I thought it would be, only about a 10 minute wait. Stop at a farmacia and pick up some Lomotil, immediately downing a couple of tablets. Cruise through town for the last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kiko, but the police have closed the malecon road to vehicle traffic.
Head on back to Percebu, and spend most of the day hanging out with Marcos, Jorge, and the cazuela girls, with the hope that the Lomotil will kick in soon. The girls took off to party with some other people they met, so I spend the afternoon working on this journal, transferring some photos and working on the text.
The medicine seems to finally be doing its job, and I’m feeling much better. Have dinner in the restaurant with Mel & Scott and their family.
I turn in early, as I want to be well rested for tomorrow’s trip south. Unfortunately, as this is the beginning of Semana Santa, the traditional Mexican 4-day Easter holiday, the camp is kept noisy by a steady stream of incoming Mexican revelers. The camp finally returns to quiet about 1 in the morning.
March 27
"..I know I’m not wasting time, taking the right way home.."
I guess I slept better than I thought, as this morning the girls complained that I was snoring during the night. I make it up to them by buying everyone breakfast. Afterwards, we all break camp, with me getting ready for my trip home, while Elena, Tam, Anna & Kristen are planning to go into San Felipe for a day or two before heading home.
After breaking camp I jump in the shower [brrrrr], and start making my rounds to say goodbye to everyone. The girls will keep in touch via e-mail, and you never know who might wind up showing at Rancho Leonero.
At campo Bradley, Melodie has made me lunch for the road. Mel and Scott have been great, and I really appreciate their hospitality. After good-byes with the kitchen girls, I have my usual argument with Jorge regarding his refusal to accept any money for my stay. I had figured this might happen, so I’d previously given the girls $200 to help cover my tab - sorry Jorge. This is truly my second family, and I hope to host them someday at Leonero.
At 9:15 I’m on my way. The worst part of the road is the pavement north of Puertocitos. The relative calm of the washboard was a relief after dodging all the potholes. At 12:20 I pass Gonzaga Bay and celebrate by buying a couple of sodas to wash down Melodie’s excellent lunch.
After dodging dozens of cars heading north, I get to Laguna Chapala and Highway 1 about 2:30. There is a tire shop at the turnoff, so I stop there to air the tires to highway pressure. As dusk approaches, I pull into the La Pinta at San Ignacio for the night.
March 28
"..it’s my job to be different from the rest, that’s what people expect from me.."
After breakfast at the La Pinta restaurant, I pull out and head on down towards Santa Rosalia. Southbound traffic is unusually light, but the northbound lane is full of caravans of motorhomes and campers heading back to the U.S.
The trip is quiet and I make good time, pulling into Nicky T’s in La Paz for a cheeseburger in paradise late in the afternoon. By this time I’m feeling the gravity pull of Rancho Leonero sucking me in. Rolling into Leonero about 5:30, I find Ranger patiently awaiting my return.
EPILOGUE
It was a great trip. I renewed old friendships and forged some new ones. My thanks goes out to all of you who have had the patience to endure my ramblings.
"..when they heard the engines hum, and realized the dawn had come, it was over, over from the start.."