Onto Mainland Mexico

---

Rocking out on duel keyboards, the solo mariachi sways his knee back and forth to keep the beat as he sings. The sound of festive Latin music fills the air conditioned cabin as we steadily cross the sea of Cortez, from La Paz to Topolobampo. The truck (Jesus El Diablo Negro, a name given to it by a friend) rides safely stored in the hull below, packed like sardines with other mainland bound vehicles. We were on our way to La Vetaña to meet up with Bryan and Linda, a Canadian couple we me at Todos Santos to check out the progress of their house being constructed, talk about buying property south of the boarder and possibly doing some kite boarding and wind surfing, but we took the wrong road and ended up at the ferry terminal an hour and a half before the ferry left for Topolobampo. We abandoned our plans of La Ventaña, bought tickets and boarded ship. In our haste we missed lunch and we had to make due on beer and chips for the six hour boat ride. We had ample food in the truck, but they wouldn´t let us back down below to retrieve it.

The evening before we went to the final night of the ten day fiesta Cabo San Jose throws to honor their namesake patron saint. Cervesas, live bands, carnival rides, traditional dances, live stock, fireworks and droves of people provided for a very entertaining evening. The carnival rides appeared to be rides from the US that had for some reason or another ended up in Mexico. They all had english names like Back Lash, and what seemed like many decades of wear and tear, adding to the excitement of the rickety rides. We watched a carnival game where you try to stand a glass bottle up on a slanted platform using a small fishing pole with a ring around the end. The carny was able to accomplish this task effortlessly, but we watched may people fail pitifully when they tried. It cost a couple of dollars and you could win $50, a tempting gamble. Andy and I thought we discovered the secret to the game of pushing the bottle up, not pulling, but in the end decided not to play because it was surely harder than it seemed and a couple of dollars could by a nights dinner. There were some good bands on the main stage. One covered classic rock songs which was chevre (cool). An impressive firework display capped off the night. Watching gigantic, colorful explosions of light against the night sky is always a treat. In addition to bottle rockets, they built a forty foot tower in the shape of their church that erupted in a dazzling display of spinning sparks. We ended up driving back to the beach we had stayed at for the past few nights. This beach was uniquely beautiful with large granite boulders embedded in the sand.


BARANCA DEL COBRE

Night had fallen and the near full moon had risen high in the night sky by the time we made port in Topolobampo. As a general rule of thumb we try not to drive at night, but seeing as how we couldn´t sleep at the ferry terminal, we had to drive somewhere. We decided to take a detour from our journey south to explore Copper Canyon about a hundred and fifty miles northeast. Copper Canyon (baranca del cobre) has been compared to the Grand Canyon except bigger, less touristy and more remote and is proclaimed as one of the most beautiful areas in Mexico. We had a few choices on possible routes to the canyon lands and decided to take the most direct, precarious route. This route around a third of the length of the alternatives was only shown in one of our guide books and was not on our AAA map of Mexico. We figured with some luck and determination we would make it. After driving a couple hours toward our destination, we camped off a dirt side road just north of the city of El Fuerte, putting us in great position for our adventure the following day.

Waking at sunrise, we ate a few oranges and were off. The paved road ends at the town of Choix where we resupplied on oranges and asked some locals for directions. Most people we talked to seemed weary of our desire to drive to Baranca del Cobre and recommended taking the train, the primary method for tourists to see these Canyon lands. We insisted that we wanted to drive and they sceptically gave us directions while informing us they weren´t sure if it would take us all the way through. After a little while we would ask someone else for directions and they would tell us to go the opposite direction. We ended up criss crossing back and forth around Choix until we got fed up and took matters into our own hands. We took a dirt road northeast of town. Armed with a compass and a vague map, we set out for what would prove to be a memorable adventure trough the mountains of Mexico.

The road started out well maintained, but slowly deteriorated as the miles rolled by under the treads of our tires. The landscape transformed before our eyes. Mountains and canyons rose from the earth, forged by beautiful mountain streams and rivers. Small Mexican ranches speckled the country side and the giant cacti turned into great pine trees. We forded rivers, climbed steep, rocky slopes following the windy road as it traversed deeper into the mountains. At each fork in the road we consulted the compass, generally taking the path that appeared more traveled. We always grinned and waved at the puzzled faces of rancheros and their families as we passed. Slowly we must be approaching our desired destination as we wandered through the mountains. After several hours of navigating the roughest roads of my life, the gas gauge began to concern us. We were sure that we must be close to copper canyon where we could refuel. As the sun sank near the horizon we rolled into a small Mexican pueblo and decided to finally ask a group of locals where the closest gas station was and brought out the map to get a better understanding of exactly where we were. To our surprise we discovered that one of the houses in town sold gasoline but the closest significant town or city was El Fuerte, a six hour drive away and we were further from Copper Canyon that we had started. We must have made a wrong turn somewhere or possibly several. It turned out that the family who sold gasoline was on vacation, but the next pueblo over sold some fuel. The next town over happened to be completely out of gasoline but there was another town not too far away that "vende gasolina." After filling up with a bucket of gas, we headed out of town to camp. Ate some pasta dinner, watched a beautiful mountain sunset, read and went to sleep.

In the morning we began our retreat from the mountains and headed toward civilization. On our way we asked directions at every opportunity and everyone was nice, often surprised to talk to a couple gringos way out in the boonies. We asked directions from a borancho and ended up giving him a ride to El Fuerte. He turned out to be a nice guy and was very surprised and confused as to why we were not drinking and driving, a proud tradition on the dirtroads through the Mexican countryside. Once we finally hit a paved road, we put the petal to the metal heading south toward San Blas. In El Fuerte we dropped off our Mexican hitchhiker, restocked up on pesos and refuled the tank. For dinner we stopped in a small town south of Mazatlan for some amazing carne asada tacos. The meat was spik roasted over coals and the tortillas were hand made in front of your eyes. Combined with some grilled onions, guacamole and killer salsa it was awesome. To top it off we had some ice cream for dessert. Rejuvenated we hit the road and drove the rest of the way to San Blas, headed straight to the beach and set up camp. We had driven for over fourteen hours that day and were ready to relax once again on the beach.


SAN BLAS

While slacklining between two palm trees, we met a very nice Mexican family who had come to the beach for a relaxing day of sun, sand, waves, cervesas, music and dancing. Their little girl was very interested in the slackline and with a little encouragement walked it a few times holding her dads hand. Her dad was a primary school teacher and we talked to him for a while, practicing our español. When the little girl heard us say we were from California in the United States she said, "chicos de los estados unidos" in a tone of wonderment and awe as if speaking of a magical far away land. Most of our day was spent reading in the shade of the Palm trees where our slackline was strung between. A sunset surf session capped of a very enjoyable day at the beach in San Blas.

The next day we drove out to a remote beach called stoners, where a popular surf break resides. The waves were breaking too close to the rocks to be able to surf, but we hung around, read our books and made some beans and rice over the campfire. Some biting sand nats were out in full force so we set up our mosquito net/shade shelter where we could relax for the evening. the rising tide began ot concern us so we dug a moat and built a wall to protect the truck. A few waves reached the moat, but not enough to cause significant alarm. In truth, we were a little disapointed that our work was for nothing. The four wheel drive is currently out of comission, so driving through the sand and along the rough, rocky road to the beach was exciting. In the morning some nats penetrated the defenses of our shelter, so we decided to pack up and move on.

---