Well, took a couple days to get hooked up here to a signal, but nevertheless, it seems like technology is on the march here in the developing world, as I now have a speedy, mobile 3G modem hooked to my computer that will work anywhere I have a cell signal, which is, for better or worse, just about everywhere since cell towers grace many a high place.
One might think this advanced technology would come with exorbitant pricing, especially given my rural location, but no, one would be wrong, and only have to pay about .60 cents/day... no contracts, no names on papers, no hassle... the whole purchase, installation and connection to the WWW takes less than 10 minutes!...
...sorry, excuse me whilst I wax, still a little amazed at the pace of "development" here after only being gone 18 months.
So yeah, really here, here, at the Rio Dulce, we did make it! It is official! And all is well.
For the last 2 days, Choco has been resting under cover in his exclusive parking space at Chique's, a local hardware/grocery/long-term parking place, but I think it sounds more, well... chic, than that... in the next posting I will include some pictures... from around here and from the last days of our drive, so check back soon for that if your visually curious. For now, I just want to let interested parties know that Choco has actually gotten me here.
And as a bonus, for those of you who know the wonderful Michelle, she just whisked in from the highlands yesterday where she has been studying Spanish and soaking up the sights. She will be helping me some with the boat (Poco A Poco) in between exploratory outings with and without Choco. Stay tuned here periodically for updates... just because the Chocolate Box has made it to the Sun doesn't mean the adventure is over :o)
Also, Thanks for following along all, it has been fun coming up with something to share and has actually helped get me through particularly monotonous portions of the drive, that is when singing rock ballads and picking my nose didn't work.
Hasta :o)
Thursday, March 17
Monday, March 14
There!
...well, almost... another couple three hours to go, but 300 miles of twisty country is enough for today, and besides, arriving to the Rio tomorrow is easier anyway.
So, for tonight I am staying at Finca Ixobel, a pleasant place in the Peten jungle where one can set up camp and rest, relax, go horseback riding, birdwatching (parrots), caving, inner-tubbing, take a Spanish lesson and by the sound coming from another palapa, ping-ponging.... none of which I will partake in, except the camping and resting, as it was another long day, but one that had me smiling many times...
...but all that, and more, I will explain later. Now, Choco y Yo need to go set up camp.
Ciaofernow and Smiles for All :o)
So, for tonight I am staying at Finca Ixobel, a pleasant place in the Peten jungle where one can set up camp and rest, relax, go horseback riding, birdwatching (parrots), caving, inner-tubbing, take a Spanish lesson and by the sound coming from another palapa, ping-ponging.... none of which I will partake in, except the camping and resting, as it was another long day, but one that had me smiling many times...
...but all that, and more, I will explain later. Now, Choco y Yo need to go set up camp.
Ciaofernow and Smiles for All :o)
Friday, March 11
A Night in Cholula
...can't say much about it really, just got here a bit ago and will be leaving again early in the morning... just passing through really. Plus, it's same situation as last night, battery running low, no place to plug in.
The town does seem nice though for Mexico's 4th largest (again I am in an outskirt)... walked the square... like most, surrounded by churches and filled with lovers on benches, families strolling, kids skittering about (although this square has a killer playground that has the kids concentrated on the slides and swings)... quite pleasant.
Grabbed a plate of the local Poblano Pepper Mole dish, may I say, yum?
This new route is proving to be better than I had hoped, as far as the drive is concerned that is. Definitely more expensive as it is mostly toll roads, but I am making good time toward Rio Dulce and Choco isn't complaining too much about having so much altitude to deal with... I reward him for climbing hills at 40 mph by taking him out of gear and coasting the descents at 60.
As an added bonus, the scenery is quite beautiful. One endless farm stretching across varied terrain... volcanic, desert, temperate forest, mountain. And several times today, I saw the colonial vision of Juan, down in an arroyo, silhouetted on a ridge or crossing on an overpass, under a sombrero, riding his donkey with big bundles of wheat or whatnot strapped on... they still do that here! How cool is that!
Ok... computers complaining now, 20% power remaining... Hasta y lotsa Amor a Todo!
:o)
The town does seem nice though for Mexico's 4th largest (again I am in an outskirt)... walked the square... like most, surrounded by churches and filled with lovers on benches, families strolling, kids skittering about (although this square has a killer playground that has the kids concentrated on the slides and swings)... quite pleasant.
Grabbed a plate of the local Poblano Pepper Mole dish, may I say, yum?
This new route is proving to be better than I had hoped, as far as the drive is concerned that is. Definitely more expensive as it is mostly toll roads, but I am making good time toward Rio Dulce and Choco isn't complaining too much about having so much altitude to deal with... I reward him for climbing hills at 40 mph by taking him out of gear and coasting the descents at 60.
As an added bonus, the scenery is quite beautiful. One endless farm stretching across varied terrain... volcanic, desert, temperate forest, mountain. And several times today, I saw the colonial vision of Juan, down in an arroyo, silhouetted on a ridge or crossing on an overpass, under a sombrero, riding his donkey with big bundles of wheat or whatnot strapped on... they still do that here! How cool is that!
Ok... computers complaining now, 20% power remaining... Hasta y lotsa Amor a Todo!
:o)
Thursday, March 10
Quicky from Guadalajara
Battery is almost out, so just a note.
Lovely drive today through Tequila and surrounds. Agave, rows upon rows and then truck behind truck, lumbering under their juicy wieght, bound for the gullets of the world via the Jose Cuervo family of companies.
Now in an outskirt of Mexico's second biggest city, it's endless rumble blending with crickets and frogs amidst eucalyptus and pine.
Off tomorrow for more parts South. Will explain the new route later.
All is swell.
:o)
Lovely drive today through Tequila and surrounds. Agave, rows upon rows and then truck behind truck, lumbering under their juicy wieght, bound for the gullets of the world via the Jose Cuervo family of companies.
Now in an outskirt of Mexico's second biggest city, it's endless rumble blending with crickets and frogs amidst eucalyptus and pine.
Off tomorrow for more parts South. Will explain the new route later.
All is swell.
:o)
Tuesday, March 8
San Blas Pause - Sayulita's Song
Mazatlan wasn't too hard to leave. Expensive, noisy and over touristy for my tastes... could have been anywhere cruise ships disgorge their passengers. From my perspective, if it weren't for Geri and the Pork Beans (sounds like a band) and the place I found to park for an evening to work on Choco, I could have passed Mazatlan right by and not missed a thing. Further South however, is a different story.
Choco y Yo turned off of MEX 15 about mid-day, and immediately, we responded with a collective sigh. The nearly 1000 miles of the toll roads, from Nogales through Mazatlan had been unnoticeably exacting a toll of their own. Sometimes you have to change lanes to discover what has been challenging you all along. In my case it was the monotony of the road, four lanes, nearly straight for as far as you can see,
passing by at speeds that had me constantly checking Choco's vitals over concerns that the ambient, though pleasant temperature, combined with the effort the motor was making to maintain such velocities, would lead to having to a pull over, a cool down and generally a hassle, afterall, I was long out the 'Hassle Free Zone'.
There certainly were many beautiful segments of the toll road route. The rolling Sonora desert hills with it's seguaro forests and classic western movie flavor. "The Farm" of Mexico, Sinaloa state, where vast, verdantly productive plots of many of the fruits and vegis we see in our stores, stretch to the horizons, especially the tomato.
In Georgia they have a peach positioned in the middle of their licence plate, in Sinaloa, it's a tasty tomato. Never before have I seen so much land devoted to one crop. And it was befuddling to consider the effort it took to actually cover, with shade cloth structures, 100's and 100's of acres of that land to protect that crop from the harsh Mexican Sun. The workforce in attendance too was astounding, 1000's of workers teemed over the tomatoes, nurturing them for tables North and South. Unfortunately, I didn't get any good pictures of Tomatolandia. I would have had to have been in the air to get the sort of perspective needed to capture such impressiveness. Never again will I buy imported tomatoes in the States without envisioning those lands devoted to the most delectable of the deadly nightshade family.
So, the collective, palpable sigh made by Choco y Yo came when we took the exit off MEX 15 and dived down into the blissfully curvy, narrow, slow, two-laned and luciously be-jungled road heading to the coast and the fishing port of San Blas.
"Ahhh, that's more like it", we both said in our own ways. Me, by actually saying it out loud and Choco by shedding 40 degrees off his engine temperature. No more were we relentlessly baked by the Sun. Now we were mostly in shade as we drove through a virtual tunnel of overhanging jungle. I knew then we had discovered the way we had been wanting.
San Blas Pause
We didn't spend much time in the village of San Blas, a decent sized village situated behind long beaches and nearly surrounded by mangrove lagoons, but from the bit we did see I knew I would want to go back. The people seemed extra friendly, lots of smiles and merriment about. This was a village of mostly fishing folk with a side of Mexican tourism to fill in the gaps. Very few gringo's were about... I am assuming because of the lack of the familiar amenities they commonly enjoy.
We made our way through town to las playas and to one of the many and nearly deserted beach front palapa restaurants, in our case, 'Stoner's Restaurante, Surf School and Bungalows', I figured it was an appropriate place to park a hippie van and grab a bite to eat.
Talking with the waitress there, she informed me that this was their down time from Mexican tourism and thankfully so. She said that when all the Mexicans pour out of the cities for the beaches, their is no rest to be had in her little village. Once again, Choco y Yo hit it right.
I sat in my plastic chair on the sand in the shade of the palapa, watched the Sun drenched surf and surfers and enjoyed a scrumptious fillet of mahi-mahi smothered in garlic, salsa and french fries (for some reason, french fries or papas fritas are served with many dishes) and a beer. In between bites, various craft peddlers came by offering jewelery, movies, music, tiny violins, hats, blankets, watches, sunglasses and the opportunity to donate money to some cause or another. All were polite and some just passed on by knowing I was not a buyer. What a tough job they have. Hearing, "NO" all day long must get old... of course when you do hear "YES" it is that much nicer I suppose. I try to say "YES" sometimes, just for the heck of it. It usually results in sincere gratitude, or is that just well acted, "SUCKER! you just paid 10 times what that is worth"... I choose to believe the former as I think the folks that do this work are genuinely thankful for each peso they take home... that they need to take home.
We left San Blas with the knowing that someday we would return to explore more and maybe stay a little while longer. For now the pause was perfect.
Sayulita's Song
In the chorus, Sayulita's song is rather familiar, pretty much a pop song as far as Mexican beach towns go. But, in the verse you hear lyrics of the rich life that many gringos and national tourists alike sing in their heads when it is time for a break.
By my assessment, as of yet, Sayulita has yet to be 'ruined', course this is my first time here, so what do I know. But I hear tell of what charm there is having been consciously preserved by the local powers that be. Apparently, it was collectively decided not to let big hotel chains come in and turn Sayulita into a Mazatlan or Cancun, for they could see the detriment to their own enjoyment. What has developed, although touristy, is a place where you can find genuine creativity (no name brands) in the form of eclectic, locally owned/operated arty shops and restaurants, organically stacked together, with no obvious planning and all situated on an tropically idyllic, sandy beached bay held in place by high rocky headlands and favored by surfers, those with enough money to buy themselves a handsome slice and the rest of us that have heard of it and have come for a look. In the case of some friendly traveling Canadians I have met, a look several times, as they keep finding what they are looking for: rest and relaxation.
Choco y Yo arrived in the late afternoon, after a pleasant drive from San Blas through the height of the water-melon harvest. In just about every pull out there were semi-trucks with smaller trucks backed up to them and an endless steam of water melons being hand tossed from, essentially, the field they were harvested in to whereever their final destination may be... look for them in the markets soon. It was interesting to note the calories burned transporting a food that barely has any calories at all... but oh so tasty.
After a detour, due to a new bridge being constructed, and a wrong turn, which turned out to be a right turn, because, where I asked directions was the home/workplace of the best hair stylist in town (so I am told) who not only informed me of how to get to where I was going but also, later, gave me a sorely needed hair cut. And as she did, her family, friends and nieghbors carried on as they do in these parts. Simultaneous, loud, competing, intermingled, gestured and jovial conversation as a background for kids of all ages running in and out, tickling, giggling, chasing, teasing, crying followed by more giggling... all giving the general impression of lives enjoyed along a dusty back street. Somehow, amidst all that, I really did get the best haircut in town (so I am told).
One thing the hairstylist didn't inform me of when I first asked about the location of the campground, was that one of the local families was having a wedding reception in the very same campground I was bound for.
To get to my camping site, I nearly had to maneuver through the white table clothed and flower decorated tables being arranged for the event later to come. I was a little apprehensive about the whole thing, but thought, "why not?", I have never seen a Mexican wedding before... but I guess it wasn't the seeing of it that gave me the pause, it was the hearing of it late into the night that mildly concerned me.
As it turns, it was the best live Mariachi music I have ever heard. Full on, brass, percussion, strings and harmonizing voices professionally delivered by ornately costumed Mariachi's. It was a delight way into the night.
Had I insinuated myself a little I may have been invited, especially after the drinks began to flow, but I stayed in the shadows with my camera and went to bed early after a long drive and pleasantly drifted off to the best songs I have heard yet in Sayulita.
Tomorrow takes me South again. It seems my fuel line patch is holding adequately and shouldn't give me too much trouble, crossing fingers, leading to the recovery of my confidence to venture forth from relative familiar ground.
Sayulita will probably sing to me again one day but until then, it's song will play in my head until I find another sweet song to sing. :o)
** Below are some random shot from around here**
Choco y Yo turned off of MEX 15 about mid-day, and immediately, we responded with a collective sigh. The nearly 1000 miles of the toll roads, from Nogales through Mazatlan had been unnoticeably exacting a toll of their own. Sometimes you have to change lanes to discover what has been challenging you all along. In my case it was the monotony of the road, four lanes, nearly straight for as far as you can see,
passing by at speeds that had me constantly checking Choco's vitals over concerns that the ambient, though pleasant temperature, combined with the effort the motor was making to maintain such velocities, would lead to having to a pull over, a cool down and generally a hassle, afterall, I was long out the 'Hassle Free Zone'.There certainly were many beautiful segments of the toll road route. The rolling Sonora desert hills with it's seguaro forests and classic western movie flavor. "The Farm" of Mexico, Sinaloa state, where vast, verdantly productive plots of many of the fruits and vegis we see in our stores, stretch to the horizons, especially the tomato.
In Georgia they have a peach positioned in the middle of their licence plate, in Sinaloa, it's a tasty tomato. Never before have I seen so much land devoted to one crop. And it was befuddling to consider the effort it took to actually cover, with shade cloth structures, 100's and 100's of acres of that land to protect that crop from the harsh Mexican Sun. The workforce in attendance too was astounding, 1000's of workers teemed over the tomatoes, nurturing them for tables North and South. Unfortunately, I didn't get any good pictures of Tomatolandia. I would have had to have been in the air to get the sort of perspective needed to capture such impressiveness. Never again will I buy imported tomatoes in the States without envisioning those lands devoted to the most delectable of the deadly nightshade family.
So, the collective, palpable sigh made by Choco y Yo came when we took the exit off MEX 15 and dived down into the blissfully curvy, narrow, slow, two-laned and luciously be-jungled road heading to the coast and the fishing port of San Blas.
"Ahhh, that's more like it", we both said in our own ways. Me, by actually saying it out loud and Choco by shedding 40 degrees off his engine temperature. No more were we relentlessly baked by the Sun. Now we were mostly in shade as we drove through a virtual tunnel of overhanging jungle. I knew then we had discovered the way we had been wanting.
San Blas Pause
We didn't spend much time in the village of San Blas, a decent sized village situated behind long beaches and nearly surrounded by mangrove lagoons, but from the bit we did see I knew I would want to go back. The people seemed extra friendly, lots of smiles and merriment about. This was a village of mostly fishing folk with a side of Mexican tourism to fill in the gaps. Very few gringo's were about... I am assuming because of the lack of the familiar amenities they commonly enjoy.
We made our way through town to las playas and to one of the many and nearly deserted beach front palapa restaurants, in our case, 'Stoner's Restaurante, Surf School and Bungalows', I figured it was an appropriate place to park a hippie van and grab a bite to eat.
Talking with the waitress there, she informed me that this was their down time from Mexican tourism and thankfully so. She said that when all the Mexicans pour out of the cities for the beaches, their is no rest to be had in her little village. Once again, Choco y Yo hit it right.
I sat in my plastic chair on the sand in the shade of the palapa, watched the Sun drenched surf and surfers and enjoyed a scrumptious fillet of mahi-mahi smothered in garlic, salsa and french fries (for some reason, french fries or papas fritas are served with many dishes) and a beer. In between bites, various craft peddlers came by offering jewelery, movies, music, tiny violins, hats, blankets, watches, sunglasses and the opportunity to donate money to some cause or another. All were polite and some just passed on by knowing I was not a buyer. What a tough job they have. Hearing, "NO" all day long must get old... of course when you do hear "YES" it is that much nicer I suppose. I try to say "YES" sometimes, just for the heck of it. It usually results in sincere gratitude, or is that just well acted, "SUCKER! you just paid 10 times what that is worth"... I choose to believe the former as I think the folks that do this work are genuinely thankful for each peso they take home... that they need to take home.
We left San Blas with the knowing that someday we would return to explore more and maybe stay a little while longer. For now the pause was perfect.
Sayulita's Song
In the chorus, Sayulita's song is rather familiar, pretty much a pop song as far as Mexican beach towns go. But, in the verse you hear lyrics of the rich life that many gringos and national tourists alike sing in their heads when it is time for a break.
By my assessment, as of yet, Sayulita has yet to be 'ruined', course this is my first time here, so what do I know. But I hear tell of what charm there is having been consciously preserved by the local powers that be. Apparently, it was collectively decided not to let big hotel chains come in and turn Sayulita into a Mazatlan or Cancun, for they could see the detriment to their own enjoyment. What has developed, although touristy, is a place where you can find genuine creativity (no name brands) in the form of eclectic, locally owned/operated arty shops and restaurants, organically stacked together, with no obvious planning and all situated on an tropically idyllic, sandy beached bay held in place by high rocky headlands and favored by surfers, those with enough money to buy themselves a handsome slice and the rest of us that have heard of it and have come for a look. In the case of some friendly traveling Canadians I have met, a look several times, as they keep finding what they are looking for: rest and relaxation.
Choco y Yo arrived in the late afternoon, after a pleasant drive from San Blas through the height of the water-melon harvest. In just about every pull out there were semi-trucks with smaller trucks backed up to them and an endless steam of water melons being hand tossed from, essentially, the field they were harvested in to whereever their final destination may be... look for them in the markets soon. It was interesting to note the calories burned transporting a food that barely has any calories at all... but oh so tasty.
After a detour, due to a new bridge being constructed, and a wrong turn, which turned out to be a right turn, because, where I asked directions was the home/workplace of the best hair stylist in town (so I am told) who not only informed me of how to get to where I was going but also, later, gave me a sorely needed hair cut. And as she did, her family, friends and nieghbors carried on as they do in these parts. Simultaneous, loud, competing, intermingled, gestured and jovial conversation as a background for kids of all ages running in and out, tickling, giggling, chasing, teasing, crying followed by more giggling... all giving the general impression of lives enjoyed along a dusty back street. Somehow, amidst all that, I really did get the best haircut in town (so I am told).
One thing the hairstylist didn't inform me of when I first asked about the location of the campground, was that one of the local families was having a wedding reception in the very same campground I was bound for.
To get to my camping site, I nearly had to maneuver through the white table clothed and flower decorated tables being arranged for the event later to come. I was a little apprehensive about the whole thing, but thought, "why not?", I have never seen a Mexican wedding before... but I guess it wasn't the seeing of it that gave me the pause, it was the hearing of it late into the night that mildly concerned me.
As it turns, it was the best live Mariachi music I have ever heard. Full on, brass, percussion, strings and harmonizing voices professionally delivered by ornately costumed Mariachi's. It was a delight way into the night.Had I insinuated myself a little I may have been invited, especially after the drinks began to flow, but I stayed in the shadows with my camera and went to bed early after a long drive and pleasantly drifted off to the best songs I have heard yet in Sayulita.
Tomorrow takes me South again. It seems my fuel line patch is holding adequately and shouldn't give me too much trouble, crossing fingers, leading to the recovery of my confidence to venture forth from relative familiar ground.
Sayulita will probably sing to me again one day but until then, it's song will play in my head until I find another sweet song to sing. :o)
** Below are some random shot from around here**
Saturday, March 5
Note: This post is from my first day across the border, just haven't has web access till now
Tubac to Guaymas: 2 March 2011
Well, that was practically the red carpet treatment. Never has a border crossing been so easy... and there I was, all psyched out to be searched, questioned, detained... I was jipped! All I got was a nonchalant, almost a why-bother, wave-through from the customs people who were chit-chatting in the shade and an unceremonious stamp with a, “Welcome to Mexico Senor, have a nice stay.” from immigration.... in fact I had to interrupt their viewing of naked women on the internet to get that stamp.
For 9 of the 11 minutes I was at the border offices, I was the only one entering Mexico! I began to wonder if I should be knowing something everyone else knew (of course that is a rather common ponder of mine), but it turns out I just happened to pick a slow day on the worlds busiest border.
So, the entry through Nogales and the subsequent drive to Guaymas was a breeze, and literally down hill. I started in Tubac up at 3200 feet and sit now just a few feet above the lapping waves of the Sea of Cortez, on the premises of the aptly named hotel/campground, La Playa de Cortez.
A past-its-prime resort who's heyday was sometime back when film was black and white... judging by all the photos on the wall of various Mexican personalities enjoying the amenities here. The big gringo claim to fame they display is the the time Ray Coniff performed here to a crowd of presumably Mexican VIP's. That must have been quite an event for it still holds a place of honor here on the wall underneath a record-breaking stuffed marlin with its fake eye missing.
Sadly, I will only be staying for a night as my goal is to traverse Mexico with lazy haste. But if were pacing a bit slower I could see staying here a night or two more. It is quite nice. Big pool, nice beach, lovely architecture.
All for a fair price. And, I am told the seafood is excellent, so, if you ever happen to be in Guaymas... just ask where Ray Coniff played and I am sure any local will point you in the right direction.
Hasta :o)
Friday, March 4
Pork Beans!
No, it's not an explicative... could be though... nah, it's what my taxi driver, Geri (pronounced Jerry), got for me after driving me all over town looking for a part that was not to be found. With the fresh bread dipped in, it, is, divine.
We had just picked up his 3 year old son, Little Geri, at daycare and Big Geri left us in the car to chat while he popped out for something. That's when I found out my Spanish is worse than I thought. Little Geri laughed at just about anything I said and often replied with a giggly, "No-oo-oo-oo" and then tried again to say what he wanted me to understand... didn't work. Fortunately, Big Geri returned quickly. He handed me a heavy plastic bag and said, "This is for you."
"Huh, for me?", I said. Then Little Geri giggled from the back seat.
Previously, I had been mentioning all the injector part rejection was making me hungry and asked Big Jeri if he knew a good place where locals eat... being that I shy away from the prices and scene of the tourist traps. Big Geri took care of me. In the bag were two Pineapple Tamales, two mini loafs of warm, just-baked-bread, and a tub of hot Pork Beans. Thanks Again Geri!
Shortly after making my earlier post , I started thinking I should get a taxi and track down some parts. Just then, as if requested, Geri appeared, dropping off my next door neighbor here at the San Bartolo Trailer Park.
We spent the next couple hours going from one auto parts store to the next to no avail. But, in between stops, Jerry shared with me factoids about Mazatlan and we discussed the economic and crime situations that are effecting tourism and his livelihood. Interesting to hear his perspective. He, like most of the Mexicans I have asked about this, seem to have a similar outlook, they're just crossing their fingers and hoping it will all get sorted out soon. It seems to be a situation that is not unfamiliar in Mexico. In fact, what is more surprising to locals is how cold it has been this year. Mazatlan dipped to near freezing one night. Good thing I am heading further South.
Night has now covered Mazatlan. I can hear a Willie Nelson sound-a-like playing one of the tourist bars on the strip. He is doing an admirable, 'On the Road Again'. And it makes me smile. It's how I feel after making, what I hope is an admirable repair to Choco's injection system. Might be a little rigged, but I think it will do the job until I can sort out getting a proper part. Besides, driving with the possibility of spontaneous combustion helps me stay awake at the wheel.
Oop.... well isn't that interesting, this morning started out with noticeably explosive potential, and now, after devouring that tub of savory pork beans... whew!... roadtrippin' can be quite a gas!
:o)
We had just picked up his 3 year old son, Little Geri, at daycare and Big Geri left us in the car to chat while he popped out for something. That's when I found out my Spanish is worse than I thought. Little Geri laughed at just about anything I said and often replied with a giggly, "No-oo-oo-oo" and then tried again to say what he wanted me to understand... didn't work. Fortunately, Big Geri returned quickly. He handed me a heavy plastic bag and said, "This is for you."
"Huh, for me?", I said. Then Little Geri giggled from the back seat.
Previously, I had been mentioning all the injector part rejection was making me hungry and asked Big Jeri if he knew a good place where locals eat... being that I shy away from the prices and scene of the tourist traps. Big Geri took care of me. In the bag were two Pineapple Tamales, two mini loafs of warm, just-baked-bread, and a tub of hot Pork Beans. Thanks Again Geri!
Shortly after making my earlier post , I started thinking I should get a taxi and track down some parts. Just then, as if requested, Geri appeared, dropping off my next door neighbor here at the San Bartolo Trailer Park.
We spent the next couple hours going from one auto parts store to the next to no avail. But, in between stops, Jerry shared with me factoids about Mazatlan and we discussed the economic and crime situations that are effecting tourism and his livelihood. Interesting to hear his perspective. He, like most of the Mexicans I have asked about this, seem to have a similar outlook, they're just crossing their fingers and hoping it will all get sorted out soon. It seems to be a situation that is not unfamiliar in Mexico. In fact, what is more surprising to locals is how cold it has been this year. Mazatlan dipped to near freezing one night. Good thing I am heading further South.
Night has now covered Mazatlan. I can hear a Willie Nelson sound-a-like playing one of the tourist bars on the strip. He is doing an admirable, 'On the Road Again'. And it makes me smile. It's how I feel after making, what I hope is an admirable repair to Choco's injection system. Might be a little rigged, but I think it will do the job until I can sort out getting a proper part. Besides, driving with the possibility of spontaneous combustion helps me stay awake at the wheel.
Oop.... well isn't that interesting, this morning started out with noticeably explosive potential, and now, after devouring that tub of savory pork beans... whew!... roadtrippin' can be quite a gas!
:o)
There Aught to be a Song...
'Mazatlan Breakdown', could go something like, "There I was on the open road, then all of a sudden it did explode... allllllmost. Whew! That waaaaaas close."
One of the attributes of air-cooled motor like the one powering Choco, is that the engine gets much hotter than the water-cooled motors most vehicles have, and this is not normally a problem as it is the intent of the design. However, when gasoline leaks on to a hot air-cooled motor, a potentially explosive situation develops that needs attention, pronto.
I started smelling the gas when I left last nights campground this morning, but disregarded it as the leaky gasket, far away from anything hot, that is a know problem but not a huge problem. Something bugged me though as I sashayed (that's what Choco does, especially when it is windy) along an almost deserted Mex 15 toward Mazatlan. I tried various ways to determine if the smell of gas, stronger than before, was just the know leak getting bigger or a new leak, YEAH!
Almost lost my hat as I stuck my head out thew window to sniff and tell if the smell was from where it normally comes from... eh... not really, then closed the window and turned on the heat that blows up from the engine compartment in the rear... uh... sort of... but not so much... hmm. About then, a toll booth arrived in front of me, and thankfully so. I decided it best to investigate further.
After paying my toll, I pulled over to the rest area (all the toll booths have these). The window washing guys came running up, I said, "No Gracias", the CD sellers then rushed in, again, "No Gracias". Then a new one, a guy selling Royal Jelly, what queen bees get fed in the hive... I almost said, "ok", but thought I better figure out where the gas smell was coming from before Choco burst into flames. Gasoline dripping on the hot manifold of an air-cooled motor is less than desirable.
Sure enough, a nice weeping injector hose was depositing drips upon my shroud. That is VW for, "you have a problem." And further investigation indicated that I couldn't just simply replace the hose, I NEEDED A NEW INJECTOR! AI YAI YAI! The one part I didn't bring a spare of... of course.
So, after him-hawing for a bit and trying a couple things, I was able to affect a field repair with a section of larger hose and a bunch of zip-ties, man I love those things. Even got it inspected by 3 Federales who came over to see if they could help (and no doubt do a once over of Choco's contents). The one guy poked his head in the engine compartment, holding his machine gun to the side, pursed his lips and nodded approval as if he would have done the exact same thing.
After waves all around and a few buena suertes (good luck) exchanged with those that had come by to check on me, I was off again. This time with the fire extinguisher close at hand and the engine compartment open so I could more readily smell any leaks... it worked!
Now I am in a pleasant RV park in Mazatlan, doves cooing, cardinals flitting, breeze rustling the palms overhead and I will soon arrange with the manager to call around to the auto parts places to look for a fuel injector. Fortunately, this part should be available as these motors are almost ubiquitous in Mexico.
We'll see.
I have another couple posts to make from my crossing and since, but internet access was too slow to post before now. STAY TUNED!
- Choco y Yo
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