After we left Indigo in April, I did a blog detailing the tasks we performed before storing her… a mighty extensive list, some might say… exhaaauusting. This time I’ll detail how we get the boat back in the water. It’s a little easier, because we have already cleaned lines, sails, canvas, etc. But aside from reinstalling such items, there are extra maintenance matters we’ll need to attend to before we “splash”.

Day 1:
Storage yard to work yard. The San Carlos Marina Seca storage yard is a gated, no-work-allowed lot. We must have the boat moved to the adjacent work yard to do anything. So the day we arrived, we made a moving appointment for 1pm the following day…and by 1:30pm, Monday Oct 10th, we were on the boat in the HOT, DUSTY, WINDY yard.

Cursory inspection. After 6  months of storage, here’s what we found:

1. The cheap, blue tarp we used to cover the cockpit from sun was ripped to shreds after hurricane Newton (not surprised).
2. Inside, I found a giant cricket on the floor…after I heard the crunch under my foot. He was already way dead. Thank goodness I had on shoes! Otherwise, no bugs. (You’ve NO idea how happy that makes me.)
3. We had removed batteries from everything (numerous flashlights, etc.) sequestering them in their own bin. Now we know why this is recommended practice…we found a couple corroded and leaking battery acid.
4. In our giant explode-proof tub, we had thrown as many leak- or melt-prone items as we could fit. I found a can of Raid sitting partway inside a melted, gooey citronella candle. And the top of our boat soap bottle cracked from heat but didn’t spill out. That’s it.
5. One floor rug backing had dried up in the severe heat and was crumbling.
6. The sun damage on our already-hazed, corner dodger window got worse. Despite being folded up inside, under a 3 ft layer of pillows, bizarre red specks lined the edges… like window cancer. This was one we did not replace last year.
7. A couple tiny water spots under the windows, but nothing looked like it got wet underneath. Can’t tell whether there was minor leakage or if it’s just boat sweat. A few bits of really minor mildew on the walls. No water in the bilge. Our caretaker said some water had blown in through the louvered companionway door from Newton’s rain downpour, but he had mopped that up.
8. Oh yeah, I also found a lizard on deck, sundried to a crisp.

That’s it? Yeah. We were supremely lucky. Already we have spoken to two boat owners regarding damage from Hurricane Newton. One sustained a bad gouge in the hull, splintered cap rail, severely bent stanchions and ladder after it toppled over onto another boat; another boats’ mast split in two. This guy purchased a second similar boat with severe termite damage just to get the mast, and had that “new-used” mast shipped from Puerto Vallarta to install in San Carlos on his boat. Ah, the lengths boaters must go through to get a thing so specialized as a mast in Mexico. We were blessed to not have any issues.

Day 2: Work!
Every 2-3 years, we must attend to our bottom. Indigo’s bottom, that is. This year, it’s our #1 project. So today, we start by applying blue tape just above our red boot-stripe. Why above? We had already decreased the red stripe thickness by half, 2 years ago. But Indigo is still so loaded down with stuff that the waterline continues to ride up on the red paint, causing too many barnacles to attach themselves along that region. Repeated scraping of said barnacles off that stripe is ruining the paint.

So today, Brian starts by sanding the red stripe with an orbital sander and I follow along touching up the line by hand sanding. Except every minute I sanded with my hands above my head, neck craned back, I felt like I was dying. Sand one minute, rest one minute. It was only 10am and 95 degrees and HUMID! I couldn’t even finish one side of the boat before I had to stop and rest or pass out.

Next step, sand bottom. The black paint underneath Indigo is called ‘bottom paint’. Each time we clean the bottom (@ once a month) we get rid of critters AND paint, so every 2-3 years we need to reapply. Sanding the boat to death isn’t necessary, just a light, even sanding all over to make sure the barnacles are banished and any paint flaking is halted. So Brian gets in his cute little white suit & respiratory mask, looking like a CDC inspector. The entire sanding job takes a little over 4 hours. But in this heat and in that stifling get-up, it simply sucks.

While Brian is sanding, I start removing the white fabric we used as a sunblock covering the teak caprail, hand rails, and multiple plastic or metal thingamajigs. This takes forever because Brian is unfortunately a super-genius at knot-tying. Good thing he is in the middle of sanding and can’t hear my teeth-gnashing… a hurricane can’t untie these knots and neither can I! I use a laundry marker to indicate where each cloth piece was used and will eventually wash, store and reuse them next year. This fabric worked great, protecting our newly varnish teak from sun-damage while providing airflow. Thanks to S/V Cuba Libre for the idea and showing me where to buy the cloth!

Clean prop. Barnacles also love to attach themselves to the metal propeller. Cleaning a prop under water isn’t very doable since there are so many nooks and crannies in which to hide. Sanding the blades down smooth again and scraping crevice-sheltered critters with a screwdriver before Indigo goes back in the water is necessary for proper operation.

Replace zincs. Boats are subject to electrolysis (electricity in the water reacting to certain metals causing corrosion). Metal oxidization on boats is not only expensive, it can cause life threatening circumstances. When your $3000 prop falls apart due to corrosion, you’ve got problems. Therefore, all boats use various-sized pieces of zinc attached to underwater metal parts. The sacrificial zincs corrode first, in effect sacrificing themselves for the good of our other important bits.

Day 3:
Wash boat. We aren’t going for super-clean, but we need to rinse down the nasty topsides to avoid tracking dust into the boat. We waited to do this until after Brian was done sanding, because we also need to spray down the hull to remove the black paint dust Brian generated yesterday. Hopefully, that will help our bottom paint adhere better. Since the boat is wet and we created a huge mud puddle underneath, we retire back to the hotel to wait until it dries.

Why don’t we live in the yard? While we are allowed to live in the boat in the workyard (there is power hookups and even shower facilities), we choose not to for several reasons: it’s hot; it’s dusty; since a boat has no grey water tank, washing dishes or hands or teeth must take place outside the boat at the ground spigot… after climbing down a precarious 15ft ladder; going to the restroom at night holds the same issue; most importantly, our boat is a severe mess – everything we needed to store inside (sails, canvas, cushions, ropes, wind generator blades, explosion-proof bin, dinghy) is littering the floor and v-berth. Nothing is where it is supposed to be - I couldn’t live in this chaos without going berserk. So at $27/day for a week, the economy hotel is worth it for the air conditioning, our own clean bathroom and not having to live amongst the disorder. Once we get Indigo in the water, we can start re-installing and rearranging.

Primer. Later on in the day, we return to tape and paint the old, red bootstripe with primer to let it dry overnight.

Day 4:
Bottom Paint. A partial day of frustration… Our $250 can of bottom paint is not cooperating. Brian uses a drill & paint mixer bit, but the solids have sunk to the bottom and created a thick, gooey mess... so dense we weren’t sure it would ever fuse. Finally, after a HALF HOUR of mixing, it started looking like paint instead of muck. Then Brian starts painting. We only have one roller. It’s taking a lot longer than he thought because the paint is drying super-fast in the heat, on the boat and in the pan. Then the roller handle breaks. Sigh.

I go to the marine store (2 minutes away) and buy two rollers and 4 sleeves, for a whopping $26. Big mistake. I get back and we both start painting to save time. Within one minute, both roller handles BREAK! We continue to awkwardly paint without handles, but it’s not going well. The paint is drying on the brush. And now my new roller brushes are disintegrating, leaving tons of small mohairs stuck to my bottom. No one wants a hairy bottom!!!

After painting nearly 2/3rds of one side, we’ve already used a quarter of the paint. We normally are able to do TWO coats with one can. We’ve broken all our rollers, all our sleeves have disintegrated and now I have a hairy bottom! We quit. We’ll try again tomorrow, early… when it’s not 100 degrees.

Hammertime…Off to Hammerheads for our daily ritual of $1.30 fish tacos and 5 glasses of iced tea. Each.  Then back to Star Marine to return two un-used, overpriced, useless, f-ing hair-emitting, roller sleeves. Then to Sherwin Williams store to get better rollers and better sleeves and some paint thinner, for much less money. Then back to the boat to try and get something else done in the baking heat. We finished removing fabric protection, re-installed 4 solar panels, started cleaning storage compartments, dug through our massive pile of stuff to find prop goop & varnish for tomorrow. After another 2 hours in the hot sun, we are more than done.

Day 5:
Bottom – 95% done! Our new paint rollers and sleeves worked flawlessly today! No more hairy bottom! Well, at least not on the other side. Adding paint thinner (spelled the same, but pronounced “teen-aire” here) eased the flow sufficiently. Gotta get up early to beat the heat, so we arrived at 6:45am and by 9:30am we were finished. Except for the squares. We must wait a bit for it to dry, then get a yard guy to move the boat stands about a foot. Then, early tomorrow, we can finish painting the blank spots.

Blue Tape Exercise. Our next project is to add two coats of varnish to our caprail. We need to protect that 7-day varnish job we had paid for in Mazatlan this past February. We’d rather NOT do this upkeep in the sweltering, grimy yard. But in Marina San Carlos, major sanding is not allowed in the water, with significant fines if caught.

Before we do anything, we must line the lengths of teak with blue painters tape to avoid getting varnish on the gelcoat. I FORGOT how long this takes. I figured 2 hours, tops. But after 3 hours in 100 degrees, we STILL weren’t done. On top of this, I’ve realized just how unfit I’ve become as a temporary landlubber.

My legs were jelly after a stairclimbing funfest: Climb ladder, tape 3ft 3 times (under caprail, above rubrail and under rubrail), climb down ladder, climb other side, apply 3 more feet of tape three times, descend ladder, lift and move ladder 5ft, repeat. Do this along 34ft and again for the other side. Meanwhile Brian is taping around every stupid piece of metal touching the teak. How can there BE so many little metal thingies! Finished with the sides, I hop on deck and begin the eyebrows and handrails. Located just 1ft above deck level, their height ensures numerous leg squats: squat, tape up, tape down, stand, shuffle… squat, tape up, tape down, stand, shuffle… By 3pm, I’d HAD it. I’m OUT! Done! Finito! Termino! No mas!

Driving in Mexico Rant. Meeting Cuba Libre and Bella Luna for dinner, we drive into Guaymas, a large city of about 200k people with essentially one main route down the middle of town. Driving in Mexico makes me highly anxious, but Brian is getting used to constant near-sideswipes. Except it’s not an easy weekday. It’s Friday. And it’s 5:30pm. And the entire city is driving down this chokepoint. We end up taking the wrong turn, getting stuck in traffic, playing Frogger avoiding the clueless mopeds & bicycle carts & everything else trying to kill us, and then maneuvering back onto the right road only to drive amid a damn parade which took up the right lane while everybody is still driving normally in the left lane like it’s no biggie. Eh, just another parade.

After dinner the road is just as bad. Several emergency vehicles are up ahead blaring sirens. Except wait, there IS NO emergency… they were part of the parade…yet they continue to pretend there still IS a parade going on, driving slowly with shrieking sirens back to the opposite end of town, holding up traffic, waving to their buddies, just because they can. Meanwhile, the 5 lane road becomes a free-for-all. Non-tailgaters are losers. If you don’t tailgate you WILL get cut off. Apparently, it’s appropriate to use the left turn lane as a passing lane, just to get one car length ahead. Oh, and make sure to use those “all-is-forgiven” hazard lights when doing so, that MUST make it legal. See, hazard lights allow you to do damn near anything: drive into oncoming traffic, stop in the middle of the road, double-park anywhere you want for as long as you want… go ahead and go grocery shopping while double parked, no it’s OK, really.

Oh, and watch out for those metal 20km/hr signs sticking up in the MIDDLE of the left turn lane. Yup, why wouldn’t you plant a big signpost in the pavement of a left turn lane. Duh. Several cars didn’t notice these signs while hurtling in and out, so they just swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid the signs. Sure. Why not? We saw two cars side mirrors pass over/under each other they were so close. Finally, we figured out what the holdup was: the 2 lanes out of town went down to one lane. But do you think there would be ANY sign of this happening? Nope. Bam…all of a sudden the lane ends at a fluorescent orange construction barrel blocking the lane in front of torn up pavement. Arrow light? No way, too expensive. OK, I’ll give you that. But... how about some cones narrowing the lane? Cones are cheap! (But easily stolen.) OK. Merge signs? Lane closure signs? Bah humbug. That’s just cotton-pickin’ toooo helpful. Just stick a giant barrel in front of it and call it good. Why should we care about traffic flow? Or safety? Or logic?

Day 6:
Saturday. Moving right along, we finish the blue taping and apply one coat of varnish to everything. Looks great. Happy day.

Day 7:
3 hours of varnishing on a Sunday morning. It’s the perfect time to do the last coat of varnish - no one is supposed to be working today, or so I thought. Instead, it was a Sunday circus. Yard tractors and pickups keep driving around kicking up dust, a boat across from us is doing messy fiberglass work, and while it has been dead calm every morning, it’s windy today. Sigh.

Movie in the afternoon = Inferno with Tom Hanks. Good movie. Why did we really go? Air conditioning.

Back to the boat at 4pm to finish the caprail. I stayed in front of Brian wiping debris before he painted. Except one time I wiped a spot he had just done. With my blue shop towel. Adding bits of blue threads to our growing collection of dust and fiberglass hairs. Oh, the look of death I got. Could it get worse? Yes. Apparently Sunday was garbage day. And we are two boats down from the garbage bin. Thank goodness the wind was blowing the debris parallel to our boat. Mostly. Still, what else can happen?

Day 8:
DEW! Dust is only one nemesis of varnish; dew is its evil twin brother. What a big mistake, varnishing our final coat late in the afternoon. This morning, our caprail was wet with dew (the one and only morning we’ve had dew over the past week). Our beautiful, glossy topcoat is now cloudy and dull. Arrrgh. More accurately, cloudy and dull filled with bits of fiberglass and dust. Soooo pretty. Fortunately, it’s only on the top and forward half of the rail; we’ll just have to fix it later. It’s better than a hole in the hull.

This morning, I finished the last coat of varnish on our handrails while Brian changed out our engine impeller. This took him two hours, all the while cussing out Yanmar for making our impeller impossible to reach, impossible to change out in an emergency, impossible period. I call this: Rage Against the Yanmar Machine. It finally came out, except for a 1” x ¼” portion of the rubber gear sheared off. He can’t find it anywhere; he thinks it was sucked into the heat exchanger. Bad news.

I felt like I had the beginnings of the crud, so I rested in the cockpit for an hour. Last night, riotous laughter from revelers in the hotel courtyard kept us awake all night long. Plus, we’d been going, going, going… getting up at 6:30 and working in the hot sun for 4-5 hours every morning, and then again for a couple more hours in the afternoon. Climbing up and down the ladder, crouching, stretching, walking… baking in 95-100 degrees…it was getting to me.

Sounds of the Yard. Resting in the cockpit while Brian ranted below, I zoned out to the cacophony of noise…the squeal of a grinder rang out in the distance, the whir of our neighbors’ circular saw on plywood, the buzz of an orbital sander smoothing bottom paint, the tinking of someone banging on a metal mast, the water gushing as another owner washes yard grime off their boat in vain. There’s a constant crunch of cars and trucks, zooming in, dropping off supplies and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake, accompanied by the screech of metal track gates opening and closing. The boat tractor trailer must have hauled a dozen boats past us today… rigging rattling, mast swaying, fiberglass hull flexing & creaking along…rolling from the storage yard into the workyard, from the workyard back into storage, from the workyard out to the marina and reverse. We are situated about 15ft up in the air, so feet shuffling can be heard below on the ground, as well as chattering employees, cruisers yapping about boat projects and the fiberglasser singing along to his portable radio. The tractor’s slow backup warning ‘beeep, beeep, beeep’ underlies all this clatter… as is a rapid and urgent “beep, beep, beep, beep…pause” every five seconds of a battery monitor alarm from the boat next door. I am amazed at the racket. But I am so tired, I actually fall asleep, just for a little bit. Then I get around to washing fenders so we can swap out our nasty, shredded fender covers with brand new (experimental) ones made from sweatshirt material.

Check your slip. We check into the marina office one final time to verify our launch tomorrow. When possible, we always physically check our slip to make sure no one is in it…or storing their dinghy there… so there are no surprises mid-docking. Which, we have had more times than we care for.  Then we go pay our yard bill.

Final job: grease prop. This is usually an easy job. But the grease gun won’t attach right, then the gun won’t squeeze, then the grease itself won’t come out of our old tube, so we open up a brand new one, then as soon as we have aaaalmost given up the gun to being broke… it finally works. Errrrr.

Final, final job: more sanding. Crap. We forgot about sanding the hatch boards. So we get out the sander, sand down one side of each of 4 boards and put the sander back in the truck. We get out the plywood board that Brian pre-cut in Atlanta & brought back down to be our temporary hatchboard while varnishing for 5 days. Except when he inserts it into the slot, it’s too high and a touch too thick, almost getting stuck. Back to the truck for the sander (again), round out the edges, cut off the top with a handsaw and it now fits. Are we done yet? Please? Tomorrow, Brian assures me, after we put in the boat, we can rest for the remainder of the day. Promise? Pinky swear?

Day 9: Tuesday, Oct. 18th - Go For Launch
8am Launch. At 8am, Indigo is literally pushed down the road, shoved into the water and we are in our slip by 8:30am. Brian performs a flawless landing with the help of pre-positioned line-handling-friends on the dock. Big sigh of relief. Happy to be in the water at last, we fiddle with lines, chat with other boaters, generally dawdling. Just before we leave to go relax on our day off, Brian checks the bilge… Remember that pinky swear about no work today? Out the window. There’s water in the bilge.

Slow Leaks
Brian finds slow leaks in two places: the shaft seal (where the prop shaft enters the boat) and cockpit through hull (if water gets in the cockpit it drains out this hole into the ocean, except this hole is below the water line and now saltwater is leaking up into the engine room – not good). Brian is able to tighten the shaft seal which solves half of our slow-as-molasses sinking ship. Then he removes part of the plastic through hull. It’s not broken; it just needs tightening and more goop. But Brian would prefer a bronze one (bullet-proof). So we take it to Star Marine on the off-chance they’d have it…they didn’t. It is interesting to note though…the parts desk guy was incredulous as to why on earth we’d try to replace it when it wasn’t even broke! Different mentality. Tomorrow’s task is re-gooping the original. So as promised…at 2:30pm I get a partial work reprieve to regroup and recoup. In an air conditioned hotel room. Because we aren’t even close to being able to sail away…

The One-Day Launchers
I cannot fathom launching our boat after 6 months in storage and leaving the following day. Even in two days. It just boggles the mind. But we see others do it…often. I used to envy their speed, but now I’m convinced this so-called “speed” isn’t based so much on preparation but on minimal effort expended. I’m sure all food was left on board, sails still on (OK, maybe you took the jib down), bimini left up, solar panels up, no need to go up the mast, don’t bother washing the boat (OK, maybe a quickie-rinse), testing any equipment or performing any maintenance. Just fire up the fridge, add water & stow your gear. Engine starts? Sweet. Get gas and go.
    
20 Days of Boat Prep – Yard to Sea
That kind of frenzy is impossible for us… We have more of a slow boat to China approach…
We left Atlanta on Oct. 3rd, messing about in Tucson for 3 days. Then we entered Mexico on the 9th. Got the boat in the workyard on the 10th. Worked for 8 days. Launched the boat on the 18th. Then we started the long process of arranging and rearranging the boat back to normal, from Oct. 19th to the 29th. This is 11 more days on top of the 9 already detailed… so 20 days of boat prep. We plan to leave San Carlos and cross the Sea on Sunday the 30th, darn near one month after leaving Atlanta. Why so long? Once in-water, we could leave in a week, if pushed. But in THIS heat? We weren’t pushing.

It is HOT. Stinking hot. Almost stupid hot, but not quite (save that for summer). But even though it’s already October, it’s 100 degrees by midday, so whatever we don’t get done by 11am, doesn’t happen. Accordingly, we read or internet during the hottest part of the day, or nap, or go to Hammerhead’s for iced tea and some blessed air conditioning. We take our time and get things done, little by little.

Our 11-day task list is extensive but here’s the gist…

• Fix leaks so boat stops sinking!
• Wash boat thoroughly. Put up dodger and bimini (ahhhh…shade). Put up solar panels. Reinstall wind generator blades. Start fridge. Fill stove fuel. Fill water tanks.
• Restock food. I started out with a near-empty pantry except for spices and a few hardy staples, so I had to re-buy EVERYTHING. We bought some specialty items at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base Commissary and Trader Joes in Tucson. Once we moved back onto the boat, we made multiple Walmart and Ley’s grocery trips. Good thing we have the truck. For every hour I spend shopping, I spend 2-3x that stowing it away and logging it in my spreadsheet (so I avoid the whole try, yet ultimately fail to remember what food I put in which locker debacle).
  
• Go up the mast 3 times. Re-run all rigging lines. Measure and order new topping lift that broke. Put up sails. Drill hole in mast for L-bracket to stop banging of electrical wires.
• Buy gasoline for dinghy motor & generator. Test generator. Fill diesel jerry cans. Find distilled water for batteries, fill.
• Buy fishing license. Don’t forget to do the bills. Blog. Laundry twice.
• Engine work: Change coolant. Search in heat exchanger for missing impeller tab lost when replacing the impeller in the yard. Found it!  Adjust packing gland.
• Varnish hatchboards – 45 minutes every morning for 5 days.
• Store truck: gradually remove items we brought down and stow in boat. Vice-versa… put unessential items back in the truck that we are tired of kicking around the boat. Prep for truck storage on the last day.
• “The best part of wakin’ up…” is knowing we’d be going out to dinner every night with Bella Luna and Cuba Libre, sometimes Liahona, Starshine or Shannon Spirit would join us. We also got to eat lunch and catch up with Sea Dancer and Leaway. These outings were the highlight of our days! See you in the spring! Stay regular, my friends.
  

Setting Sail for our 3rd Season in the Sea
On Oct. 30th, we will set sail on an overnight crossing for Punta Pulpito, 90-miles away and across the Sea of Cortez. Over the next 3 weeks, we’ll make our way down to La Paz again, hoping to explore some new anchorages in between. Sometime around Thanksgiving (as always, dependent upon weather), we’ll be meeting up with our friends on Lorelei who are currently sailing to La Paz from San Diego on the Baja Ha Ha, just as we did exactly 2 years ago!
Until La Paz…!

Crossing the border into Mexico can be anxiety-inducing. For our first check-in at Cabo San Lucas in 2014 via boat, I had overly-hyped up the difficulty in my mind. One imagines frowny-faced immigration officials babbling irritably at you in Spanish, barking dogs sniffing your vehicle (or boat) for contraband, ultimately denying you entry for some miniscule mistake. Since that initial arrival by sea, we’ve entered overland by car or bus four times in two years. We have always dealt with courteous agents and translation is relatively smooth. So, I thought I’d detail our most recent trip across the Nogales border… for anyone thinking of driving across and for those who travel with us vicariously.

Be prepared. Bring the following:

• Your valid passport and driver’s license,
• Current car registration. We see multitudes of cars down here without ANY plates…yeah, not just expired plates…no plates AT ALL. So to us, this seems illogical. Why should anyone care about OUR currentness if they aren’t enforcing their own? But our colorful American license plates scream “pick me”, so you’re better off with a current sticker.
• Proof of ownership: I have a copy of our title in the truck & keep the original at home. You need this to obtain a TIP/Temporary Import Permit if you plan on driving any farther than Guaymas. If you have a car loan, you need a letter from the lienholder giving permission to take the vehicle into Mexico.
• Mexican liability insurance is non-negotiable. We get ours here: Vagabundos Del Mar.  We retain bare minimum insurance from our U.S. carrier in order to keep state registration legal.
• Check out online what you can and cannot transport. It’s different for cars vs. boats vs. bus vs. air. Some illegal items may surprise you…sea turtle boots, for instance. What? What foul person HAS boots made from those adorable sea turtles? We are often asked if we bring a gun for protection. The answer is emphatically, NO - because transporting guns, bullets or even empty cartridges are an instant “Go Directly to Jail” card and a Mexican prison is #1 on our list to avoid. Just watch the movie “Get the Gringo” with Mel Gibson - it’s a great deterrence.
• Keep receipts for any new items you are bringing down with you….groceries, boat parts, etc. Anything over your allotted limit is subject to a 16% VAT tax. Alcohol VAT taxes are amazingly high and vary; beverages with less than 14% alcohol are charged a 78% duty, so you may want to rethink importing that special $200 bottle of wine and drink more Dos Equis instead!
• Bring your patience & willingness to wait in line, if necessary.
• Above all… be courteous. No one likes a haughty American… or Canadian for that matter; no country’s citizen is immune to bad manners.

​
Getting There:
1. Highway 19. The city of Nogales, Arizona is adjacent to its twin…Nogales, Mexico. The first time we traveled Highway 19, a one-hour stretch from Tucson to Nogales, we were surprised to see mileage signs in kilometers. At this point, you are still in the US, but just barely.

2. Take Exit 4. This is known as the truck exit, built outside of town to facilitate cross-border truck traffic. Since you are bypassing town, the remote truck crossing promotes stress-free access with no traffic & decent signage. Plus, the initial road south after crossing is an updated highway. Piece of cake. While you CAN get tourist visas by going through the city center gate (we have done so via bus), there is no need to navigate downtown Nogales by car.

3. Stop at the Shell station on the right as soon as you get off at Exit 4. Gas is much more expensive in Mexico, so "fill up" or "lleno" here. While this is still technically the US (you can see the border from here), don’t expect the cashier to speak English. We can make it to San Carlos from Nogales in 5 hours and on one tank of gas.

4. Go through the border checkpoint, following signs for Hermosillo, not Nogales. (Following signs to Nogales will take you back to the city center and you don’t want that.) We traversed through a series of sharp turns around empty government buildings and suddenly we're on the highway going south. We were not stopped – there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

5. A few miles south is the red light/green light customs checkpoint. There’s a small traffic light at each lane: stop for questioning/trunk & baggage search if you get the random red light and go through if you get a green light. We got neither. Maybe it’s because it was a Sunday, but apparently nobody was around to turn on the lights. Good deal for us. Another time we got in the wrong lane, someone came running up to the fence, we raised our hands up like “what do we do” and they just shook their head and waived us through.

Research the dollar limits online for importing items before you go. Decide whether you have "nothing to declare"/“nada que declarar". I believe it’s a measly $75 per person by land. I’m not going to tell you whether or not to declare purchases. Either way, I keep my receipts in the glovebox just in case we get a red light and are questioned. Check out www.bajainsider.com or www.mexperience.com for good info on rules and regs.
​
6. Tolls. A few miles down the road is the first toll station - we paid 52 pesos here. I don't know if they take dollars so I keep a bunch of small bills or coin pesos in the truck for this purpose. There is a 2nd toll station at the town of Magdalena south of the immigration checkpoint - 25 pesos here. The 3rd and final toll is just north of Hermosillo for a whopping 65 pesos. Total tolls: 142 pesos or $7.50. I always keep several hundred pesos on hand when heading back to the US so that when we return, we have enough to pay for tolls, gas, lunch or snacks on the way down. You CAN get pesos at the Kilometer 21/immigration stop, but this way I am not forced into an unknown exchange rate.

7. Kilometer 21. After your first toll payment, next stop is immigration at KM21, so-named for being situated exactly 21 kilometers inside the country. Don't ask me why they can't do immigration at the actual border (like at Tijuana)…or at least at the customs checkpoint…or before the first toll. Don’t ask such logical questions…they just don’t, OK? For more info, google "Kilometer 21 Nogales". It seems like a cobbled bunch of buildings along the right side of the road, but look for signs that say “obligatory stop” or “migracion” or “temporary import permits”. There’s also an insane amount of speedbumps. Park in the big parking lot on the right hand side. 

8. Enter the building that says "permiso de turista". Stand in line, and then show your passports when called. The agent will give you a 2-part tourist card written in both Spanish and English. Step out of line and fill out both top and bottom of the form as you'll get the bottom to keep with your passport at all times. Take your time and read the English. We witnessed one tourist make a mistake, nonchalantly tear it up and ask for a new card; don’t do this – all cards must be accounted for and now that clueless tourist just created a real hassle for the clerk. Once you’re done scribbling, wait your turn again. Then the agent will take your filled out card and passport and ask you where you are going in Mexico and how many days you will be there. We say "seis meses" or 6 months, which is the maximum time frame…even if we won't be there that long, you just never know...stuff happens. Verify that your agent writes "180 dias" on the form.  

9. Banjercito. Since the government doesn't trust their people not to pilfer cash, you must pay for your tourist card in a separate location, the government bank. Fortunately, it’s right here. Go out the door in back of you, turn left and head past the copy man to the banjercito/bank. Wait in line again, and when called give the banker your new tourist card. He'll ask if you want to pay with cash "ejectivo" or credit card "tarjeta de credito". If you don't catch the number of pesos ("setacientosochenta" sounds like a mouthful if you aren't used to hearing it) he'll write it on a piece of paper. We paid 780 pesos total for two people. Currently, that is $41 equivalent. Your bank agent will give you a 8-1/2”x11" paper receipt. Keep this receipt with you as you travel and make a copy or at least take a picture of it with your phone.

A note about keeping visa receipts…I was once asked for my receipt for an expired visa by an agent while trying to obtain a new visa. I hadn’t removed the old (expired) visas from inside our passports (big mistake) and he focused like a laser, asking me if I’d paid for them. He wasn’t a jerk about it but was rather insistent. I understood he was looking for proof, but I had my proof back at the boat - 10 hrs away by bus. (What did it matter? They are expired!) So I just kept saying “si” and managed to deflect by repeating that I had already paid for them and I need new ones. After that incident, I keep my receipts with our passports. We also just learned to return our visas at Km21, IF we are planning on leaving and returning to renew another 6 months before that visa expires.

10. Receipt in hand, go back to the tourist card building for the final stamping process. Stand in the same line, again. (Remember, patience is key…you’re almost done.) After you are called, give them your bank receipt, your passport and the filled out tourist card. The agent will stamp the tourist card and your passport. Make sure you see them stamp both. (That same agent I speak of above, while he stamped our new visas, forgot to stamp our passports… but we were rushing, trying to get back on the bus since everyone else was waiting for us. Lesson learned.) The agent will give you half of the tourist card to keep in your passport at all times and give you back your receipt. Keep that receipt with your passport.

11. Get your vehicle TIP here if you plan on driving any farther than Guaymas. A TIP is a Temporary Import Permit. While a boat TIP is good for 10 years, a car TIP is only good for 6 months… but it’s only necessary when driving into certain parts of the country. We do not need to register our vehicle since we are only driving in Sonora as far as Guaymas; but past Guaymas, it’s required. Since I'm no expert in TIPs, check online for up to date car TIP info.

You're done! Back on the road! We think going across on a Sunday morning is the best time. We arrived before 8am and sailed right through with no waiting at immigration or the bank. Just remember, the border isn’t 24/7. There are hours of operation with regards to immigration offices, so don’t try to cross here between 10pm and 6am.  Not to mention, we avoid traveling at night for numerous safety related reasons.

Online visas:
You CAN obtain a tourist visa online. When arriving via boat, I went this route for peace of mind even though my only proof was the computer receipt. I felt better having at least started the process, but we still needed to get that stamp and an actual visa card, in Cabo. But I don’t see the benefit when crossing via land. You still need to stop at KM21 and get your stamp. So while it takes a few minutes longer, I’d rather just get it all done in one spot. (By the way, I've used the word "visa" interchangeably with "tourist card", but technically, your tourist card is not a visa.)

 After-Immigration…
The Headlight Cleaner Man
New visas in hand, we’re anxious to get underway and get down to the boat. But as we walked back to the parking lot, there's an old guy near our car babbling at us in Spanish as we walk up. Crap, he had just wiped one headlight with some kind of wax…and looks like he wants money to do the other. Dammit.

This is one of those cultural things I really hate. I don't begrudge the guy trying to make a living, but ASK me before touching my car! I require the option of saying yes or no. Oh, but you're so mean! The guy is just trying to make a living. Who amongst you likes it when someone grabs your butt without asking? Exactly. My car is an extension of my person. It's appropriate that the Spanish translation of "don't touch" is "no moleste".

Normally, I'd just tell him to go away. “No lo quiero limpiar.” Or something like that. Don’t judge my stilted Spanish. But now we've got ourselves a dilemma... the headlight now looks brand new! We just spent hours washing and waxing the truck, prepping it for storage, knowing it would bake in the sun for several months. And one of the things we couldn't fix was the ugly, yellowed headlights. Though annoyed, I refused to buy a special product. And so they remained suspended in their 11-yr-old state, severely clouded and sorely sun damaged. So while my immediate reaction was: "Dammit that guy touched our truck without asking" ...it quickly turned to..."Damn, that headlight looks brand new!" Huh. Now what?

"I do the other for $10", he tells us. Sigh. So instead of saying no, I bargain and say $5. He says $7. I say $6. He smiles and sticks to his guns at $7. "You help an old man with mental issues" (I'm paraphrasing). Ok, dammit. He IS a nice guy. And he IS old. Really old. Mental issues? I doubt it. $7 is way too much for 2 minutes of work but I let him do it because it really does look amazing. Let's put this in perspective: minimum wage in Mexico is $5 PER DAY. Per DAY. Fine, $7 and a photo, I tell him. (I could have bought that special product for $7!)

I take a picture as we watch him rub his bare hand, no cloth, over the Plexiglas and poof… it's perfect once again. He tells us "good for 2 years". Cynics that we are, our immediate reaction is that he probably used some caustic solvent that should never be applied to plastics and will corrode right through it tomorrow.  Or, since I never actually saw him spray his hand, it could have just been spit! Oh well, it looks amazing.

Now, I dislike encouraging these guys to do things to vehicles without asking, and I will get reprimanded by a certain good friend of ours who will read this and say “What did you just DO!” because he simply will not tolerate this form of inappropriate car “molestation”. I agree. Window washing while stopped at a light is common on the mainland; I’ve even seen someone starting to wash our friend’s car without asking, expecting a big tip. Simply not cool. But I've never seen this on the Baja side, one of many reasons we like that side better. But, you know what...he's happy with his exorbitant tip, we're happy with our fresh lights… so I guess that's what matters.

As we are getting in the car, this weathered, octogenarian asks what I'm going to do with the photo. Before I could answer, he giggles and makes another remark that I swear sounded like "put it up in your bedroom?" What? Did he really just say that? Dirty old man!
​
As always, I just smile graciously and say… “Si!”

~~~~~~
​Some good references:
https://www.bajabound.com/before/permits/customs.php
https://www.cbp.gov/travel/us-citizens/cbp-reqs-mexico 
 http://www.bajainsider.com/article/mexicos-import-duties-and-exceptions ​

Airport Parking
Since we had to fly out of Hermosillo for my brother’s wedding in Cancun, we hoped to leave our truck at the airport. But the airport parking rumors were discouraging. One person believed it was $20 a day… another thought it was $80 a day. That’s dollars, not pesos. Everyone agreed it was expensive, but no one knew for sure just HOW expensive. We could not obtain a concrete answer from the almighty internet. So we asked the experts…

The Info Net
Every morning at 8am there is a San Carlos VHF radio net for cruisers. Since most cruisers seem to be hibernating this time of year, the San Carlos net typically lasts about 3 minutes, as opposed to the 20 minute La Paz radio show with a couple hundred boats listening in. A typical radio net consists of boat check-ins (saying your boat name over the radio to let others know you are listening – or not, if you want to remain anonymous) and a brief weather and tide report. It also gives cruisers the opportunity to state announcements, request rides or crew, indicate lost or found items, and request ‘local assistance’. So we asked the 6 other listening cruisers for recommendations as to where to stay and parking in Hermosillo. Thankfully, we actually got an answer: Holiday Inn Express would let us keep our car in their guarded lot for free for the week with one night’s reservation. Perfect - I’m all about killing two birds with one stone.

HIE
We can’t say enough about the Holiday Inn Express – Hermosillo (not to be confused with the normal Holiday Inn a few blocks away). For about $70/night, it rivals any standard business-class hotel in the States: clean rooms, great shower, working toilets (big plus in Mexico), big screen TV, nice exterior (tiny) pool/breakfast area, free breakfast with fresh fruit, eggs, yogurt, bacon, potatoes, etc… and of course the free parking AND a free shuttle to the airport (not from – you have to take a taxi back for a flat fee of 165 pesos). But the kicker is their service…

We reserved two nights at HIE, book-ending our Cancun trip. After arriving via airport taxi on a Saturday at 5pm, we were excited to see our bright red truck still in the parking lot. Yay, it’s not stolen! Disaster averted. We breathed a small sigh of relief. Ahhh, but we sighed too soon. 
Upon check-in we noticed our back tire was flat.

Flat Tire...I WISH it was the beer
Crap. We asked the front desk if anyone could help. Their maintenance guy, Joel (who spoke better English than the reception folks after living in Roanoke of all places), came to the rescue with an air compressor. After about 15 minutes of it not working properly, he persisted, got it running and blew up our tire. Yay! But we weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of driving an hour and a half across an empty desert with a slow leak. There’s usually a REASON why a tire is flat, even though we couldn’t readily find the source.

Llantera
But tomorrow was Sunday and we feared nothing would be open. Joel knew of a tire place and actually offered to take us there to translate. After getting permission to leave work to help us, he jumped in the truck with Brian and off they went. At 6pm the ‘llantera’ had just closed up shop and waved them away. But Joel pleaded with them to stay open just a few minutes longer. They relented, found the culprit nail and sealed up our leak. For a mere 50 pesos - that’s a little over $3! Joel graciously refused our offer of a tip and we are grateful for Holiday Inn Express for letting him out of work to help us. He should get a raise. If I ever have to fly out of Hermosillo again, I will only stay at the HIE. Period.

Thought of the day: If you were at a hotel in the US, in the same situation but reversed, speaking broken English like a 3-yr old, and bewildered as to where in the world do I find a good place to fix my tire, and how am I going to communicate that…yes, someone would try and give you directions, but do you think anyone would offer to go WITH you to the tire place to make sure you found it and translate? Never.

Full disclosure: We were a little taken aback with the offer and, well, a little hesitant to just drive off with a stranger. Not to mention, typical llanteras (tire stores) here are nothing like your normal Discount Tire shop in the States, their showroom sporting rows of shiny, new BF Goodrich tires smelling of Armour-All. From street-level, most have the appearance of a junk dealer, displaying decades-old, crooked, hand-written signs stating the obvious: “Llantera”. Hmmm, I can’t tell from the stacks of old, rotting tires lining the grimy, seedy-looking storefront several feet high. None seem to want to advertise sparkly NEW tires, just the bad ones they remove. I always feared going to a store like that meant you wouldn’t get NEW tires… you’d end up with yours ‘appropriated’.

But our wariness was unfounded. Unfortunately, we are burdened with a mentality to not instinctively trust our neighbors. The US news portrays Mexico as a warzone (listening to news of the States, it actually sounds worse up there). Bad things DO happen in Mexico; I’ve heard first-hand accounts of attempted robberies and thwarted ambushes that make us vigilant. But these instances are rare and crime happens worldwide.  So, you trust your “spidey-sense” and hope for the best.

I’ll take you there…
This man, not knowing us from Adam, realizing we were perplexed, found us a solution and made it happen… personally. We are blown away by his kindness in helping a complete stranger. But the longer we stay here, the more we experience this unique trait.

Like my nurse Anjelica who rode with us in the car to the La Paz hospital carrying my IV…

Or our Spanish instructor who refused to call us a taxi, and instead drove us to my emergency eye appointment, escorting me inside to verify they understood the urgency…

Or the security guard at Marina Palmira who called his friend at home, asking him to come drive us back to our boat at 11pm on Christmas Eve when no taxis were available (yeah, we gave him a big tip)…

The Mexican people have shown us a different side of humanity… willing not just to give directions, or dismiss you as “not my problem”…  but to actually “take us there”. How human.

Trucking on the I-10 Pensacola to Tucson
We headed back to San Carlos, Mexico from Atlanta on July 27th, traveling in the only major item we kept after selling the majority of our belongings last year and moving onto our boat: a 10-yr old Toyota Tacoma…hauling a brand new SeaFrost refrigerator.

Why, again, are we doing this? Because we don’t trust FedEx Mexico to deliver such an expensive piece of equipment into Mexico without it getting “lost”. And, we didn’t exactly feel like lugging such a heavy, awkward item on a plane and a 10-hr cross-border bus ride. Plus, do YOU want to try and explain carrying hazardous refrigerant to suspicious TSA or border agents? We could have shipped it to a Mailbox Etc. in Tucson, bussed up there to pick it up and bring it back on the bus; still a lot of trouble. We considered the possibility of bringing the truck down here as a huge bonus. But it’s ALL the way over in Atlanta. Eh, what else do we have to do? So here we are…

Southern AL/Pensacola
We’ve driven the southern route along I-10 several times. But the Marine Corps dictated our every move and always required Brian’s presence ASAP. Rush to Corpus Christi, hurry back to P’Cola, ‘stomp on it’ to California. This time, there was no one telling us when we had to be where.

From Atlanta, we purposefully traveled circuitously throughout southern Alabama to see if there was potential for settling there later on, AB (After Boat). Yes, there will come a time when we don’t want to live on the boat and we are already planning. This was a quickie day-long drive-by through a line of towns from Auburn to Tuskegee to Dothan to Opp just to get a sense for the area. Dothan and Enterprise, Alabama are high on the list due to Ft. Rucker. But so is Pensacola/LA (lower Alabama) Daphne/Foley area due to Pensacola Naval Air Station and nearby Eglin Air force Base.

Access to the VA is key for us, as is no state income tax - both FL and AL accomplish this requirement. FL has no state tax period and AL does not tax military retirement income. (Neither does Michigan or Wyoming, two other top states, but it’s so COLD there.) But we wanted to see if we would still like the area after 20 years away before we do more research on property tax and building codes (yes, most of you are not surprised a ‘tiny house’ and pole barn shop is in our waaay distant future).

We were surprised at how comfortable we felt back in Pensacola. I mean who doesn’t like sparkling white sugar sand beaches and a low-key, Jimmy Buffet style vibe. We had lived there in 1995 and again in 1997 while Brian attended flight school. 

Young and broke, newly married and madly in love, when Brian wasn’t studying (rarely), we went to the beach for fun because we could afford to do nothing else. Waffle House was a rare treat from my usual Hamburger Helper dinners (yeeaah, my cooking skills were in need of some major help). I used to open the window of our first, cheapo, cockroach-infested apartment on Pensacola Bay just so I could hear the surf crashing against the rocks outside…while the air conditioner was running. What’s wrong with that?  Brian anointed me “Bill-Czar” after that discovery and I learned real quick. Ah, to be 23 again and clueless. Good times.

We spent the night at the Pensacola Naval Air Station hotel and visited the newly reconstructed base marina. Walking the docks, we spoke to a fellow retired Marine who informed us about the marina rate of $6/ft/month (great deal), there are no liveaboards allowed (bad for us), and that the entire place was swept away during the last major hurricane in 2005. Not a single boat survived. Hmmm, maybe we DON’T want to put the boat here eventually.

Bucket List Item #1: The French Quarter
The next morning we headed out to check out Perdido Key, Foley, Fairhope and Daphne, Alabama before getting on the I-10 to New Orleans. Though we’d driven past it several times, we’d never stopped...rush, rush, rush to that next duty station.  We stayed downtown on the west side in a district that looked like it was in the middle of a renaissance: old and tired storefronts and apartments mingled with new and upbeat eateries and hotels. The hotelier gave us directions and a map on which she pointed “Oh by the way, for your safety, don’t go past this street.” Great. Enough said. 

The Hustle
We hopped on the crowded, standing-room-only bus to the French Quarter and spent 5 hours into the evening just walking downtown. We scouted the infamous Bourbon St. and decided it was like a Frenchie Southern Las Vegas. While interesting for an evening out, more than one day in this place would make us crazy. Bourbon St. is rife with strip clubs, bars, street performers and hustlers. One such hustle goes a little somethin’ like this…
Hustler: “Hey, I like your shoes. They’re cool man.”
Brian: Semi-surprised, “Uh, thanks.”
Hustler sidles up and touches him on the shoulder like he is an old friend: “I’ll bet you I can tell you where you got them?”
Brian: “What?” This is a strange statement. It takes a moment to process…
Hustler: “I’ll bet you I can tell you where you got your shoes.”

See, at this point we were supposed to say “Ok where ”, meaning where did we buy them, thinking to ourselves, “Hell, even I don’t know where I bought these shoes, how’s HE going to know.” But what they are trying to do is catch you on your grammar. What? I know. Weirdest thing ever. I immediately tried to move Brian away thinking this was more of a hustle than it really was, but Brian nailed it and we veered off: “I GOT them on my feet.” Smile. “Thanks, anyway.”

We hear Mr. Hustler claim his next victim (laughing congenially at tripping the guy up): “You GOT them on your FEET bro’!”  And said hustler now implies he deserves a bit of a tip for catching you off your game, right? No, no you do not. If you’d like a tip, perform something semi-useful! See those children drumming on overturned plastic buckets? Or how about that guy dressed as a gold statue, or the animation dancers, or those girls I keep passing with small squares of clear plastic in their mouth… encasing another piece of colored, round, rolled-up, rubbery plastic… whaa, OK, still… useful. Look, I just don’t tip for poor grammar. It’s against my upbringing. We heard this same spiel 4 times so it must work. At least it’s a benign encounter; Brian didn’t get his wallet lifted.

The Good Stuff
Regardless of the craziness of Bourbon St., we enjoyed walking down the quaint, cobblestone streets and inhaling the enticing aromas of shrimp, catfish and Old Bay Seasoning. We loved the beautiful, old-world architecture with its intricate wood and wrought iron dressings, brightly-colored, hanging flower pots and genuine flame lanterns lighting the alleyways.

The food was amazing and so was the music. We walked to the jazz district where we were practically run over twice by a mad bohemian woman bicyclist. Artists and hostel-types are everywhere. We spent 2 hours sampling local beers while listening to a blues band with a harmonica player who could play without using his hands…just moved it back and forth with his mouth. That’s talent. Then we went back to Bourbon St. where every other restaurant featured a live band; we just walked from place to place, listening from outside. Then picked up the local fav for dessert to take home: warm beignets coated in literally a half pound of powdered sugar. Yum.

By 10pm, sensory overload had set in and we high-tailed it out of there, back on the bus, listening to 2 crazy people shouting at each other the whole way home. Good Night New Orleans. 5 hours was enough. We love your music and your food. But you are exhausting.

Austin Powers
We drove to Austin the following day, a long 500 mile trip. I would have liked an extra day there since Austin is also famed for its music, but we needed to keep moving. Who knew this was the 12th largest city in America. Somehow, I thought it would be more like Ann Arbor. It’s not. It’s big. We had no desire to tackle another big city tonight, so we had dinner at the adjacent hotel bar. Lucky for us, it was Open Mike Night with a surprisingly good Texas blues guitarist/singer who looked and sounded like he belonged in ZZ Top. It was exactly what I imagined us finding downtown anyway. Perfect.

Barren West Texas
Then we drove the worst part of the trip. West Texas. It’s the fastest though… you can go 80 mph on the highway, and thank God for that, because it is the most boring area, visually, of the country except for maybe southwest Wyoming. (No disrespect to all you El Pasoans out there.) No trees, no mountains or hills or rocks or even farm fields. Just brown dirt and scrub brush. Guess who got to drive it? Me. I’ll admit, it’s the first time I had driven in a year. (Brian did all the driving in San Diego in April.) I was worried that my eye floaters would interfere with my driving ability. Driving requires constant, rapid eye movement of which, ordinarily, one is not cognizant…. until you have spider webs that continually bob and weave as your eyes move. Super irritating, especially in bright sunlight or dusk, but I did OK. By the way, we thought Fredericksburg, TX was a cute town, wine country…the Temecula of West Texas, I suppose. We could live there, if it wasn’t in West Texas.

Bucket List Item #2: Carlsbad Caverns, NM
Another one on our “been wanting to see… had passed just a 100 miles from several times on the way to or from California… but never had time for just a one day side-trip”…list. This time, we made it happen.

Carlsbad Caverns is a must-see wonder of the world. The rangers estimate it takes 3 to 3-1/2 hours to walk the cavern; it took us 5. Yes, I stopped and took like a thousand pictures. It was amazing. From the steep and switch-backed, mile-long trek into the dark unknown, to the enormous (and appropriately dimly-lit) cavern, large enough to fit 8 football fields, the overwhelming sensation is: this place is ‘not of this world’. Like I just stepped out of Dr. Who’s” Tardis” and into another time.

Everywhere you look, countless strange creations surround and surprise, above and below: intricate stalactites and stalagmites, smooth, ribboned draperies and pockmarked, bulbous popcorn shapes. Mirror-clear, undisturbed pools opposite puddles with a single, constant drip from above… like a leaky faucet… rippling its’ surface. Towering, ribbed columns of melted ice-cream… fat, conical beehives… kryptonite daggers… porcupine-spiked ceilings and low, flat-topped mushroom seats. Formations that took thousands of years to build into these beautiful, natural sculptures. Unbelievable. How lucky we are to have access to this dreamscape.

Bat Flight!
We had lunch outside the park and drove the half hour back to the hotel for a nap. We were tired and actually sore from slowly walking in awe for 5 hours straight. Then we went back… for the bats! Yes, there are approximately 300,000 to 400,000 Brazilian bats that live in the cave. Carlsbad Caverns was discovered because one guy noticed what he thought was a cloud of smoke coming from the area. He went closer to investigate thinking it was a forest fire, discovering the smoke was actually thousands of bats exiting the cave at once. This phenomenon happens every night at dusk and is one of the park’s main features; so they built an outdoor amphitheater at the cavern entrance… strictly for evening bat-viewings.

We arrive before dusk to get a seat; the place is packed. A ranger gives a half-hour talk about the bats. No cameras are allowed. Why? The ranger makes great a joke: “How would you feel being bombarded by flashing lights when you first wake up?” Geez, now I feel bad for even thinking about it; I’d be sooo irritated if Brian did that to me. Also, no talking once they start coming out so as not to frighten them. A ranger will ask you once to stop talking or taking photos; the second time they will escort you out. Nice. Once Ranger Rick is done with his presentation, we wait for the bats to wake up and start hunting. Silence fills the air.

Then one comes out and flies overhead. A scout? I don’t think they do scouts like ants, I think he was just the first one out of bed. Then another… then a few at a time. They slowly come out in a protracted dotted-line… tiny and quick, with hand-size wingspan bodies. Black specks against a fading cobalt sky, they are fairly difficult to see. The crowd whispers. A few circle directly overhead. Some fly out all at once in a thick bunch, but most retain their lengthy line, heading toward El Paso for Bug Trap Diner or The Mosquito Bistro. Not the dense cloud of whirling smoke I imagined, but pretty cool and worth it nonetheless. Mother Nature is truly amazing. (As long as they stay in their own house and don’t try to come into mine, we’re good.)

Last Stop: Tucson.
We arrived in a thunderstorm and were treated with a spectacular lightning show. Boulder-speckled mountains surrounding this valley made one heck of a back-drop. We spent two full days here resting and getting our mojo back after driving across the country. We got up late. We ate at Panera and Cracker Barrel and Olive Garden. Made a Home Depot and Walmart run.

What did I buy at Walmart? Stocked up on everything canned of course: chicken, roast beef, salmon, ham (I’ve not tried this yet). Canned tuna is everywhere in Mexico… the rest, not so much. Armour brand dried beef in a jar (yup – thanks for this tip from my father-in-law), pouches of tuna and salmon (because they are easy to pack in corners), Nutri-Grain and Rice Crispy bars (for easy snacks), a few pre-packaged Lipton or Knorr meals like Fried Rice and stroganoff, oatmeal packets (available in La Paz but I couldn’t find in San Carlos), chopped pecans and almonds, and individually packaged powdered drink mixes (Gatorade, iced tea, lemonade, etc.). Mexico sells a multitude of powdered drink mixes, but I wanted certain types. Individual packets are better - larger packets or tubs get crusty. Looking forward to using my fridge once again for cold drinks!

We went to 3 movies in 2 days: Mad Max (at a theater that only shows older flicks) and Mission Impossible and Vacation.  MI was a must-see. And Vacation, well, it is also a must-see if you enjoyed the old National Lampoon’s Vacation movies. We had recently seen all of them so HAD to see the new one and while it could have been better, it was still good. Critics hated it, but we laughed. Not suitable for children. Some awkward scenes. Warning: You will have the “Holiday Road” theme song in your head for DAYS. Crap, now that I wrote that, I’ll have it in my head for another 4 days.

Border Xing: Tucson to San Carlos
It took us 6-1/2 hours to drive to San Carlos from Tucson (only an hour north of the border). We used the Mariposa truck crossing border entry off exit 4, not the downtown Nogales entrance. It was too easy - no town to maneuver through, no stopping, they waived us right through. Well, that is because the real checkpoint is not even at the border, but at Kilometer 21 (that’s what it is called, the checkpoint is named after the number of km it is from the border). Here you go through the “red light/green light challenge”. We got the Green Light! No stopping, no trunk or baggage searches. Not even a passport check. You don’t need to register your car if you are only going as far as Guaymas in Sonora: it’s in the Free Zone. Any farther south or east… yes, you do. We also didn’t need to renew our visas yet. We’ll do that again later. So this time…no paperwork, no hassles = sigh of relief. 

There was something palpable about arriving in San Carlos with our own mode of transportation - we felt significantly different. More upbeat. Brian felt it and voiced it while I was thinking the exact same thing. The town didn’t feel as depressing as it did when we had to bum rides from cruisers or use the bus or walk. San Carlos suddenly turned into a sleepy little beach town from a mildly depressing, rather run-down, vacation hot-spot wannabe.

How do I feel about San Carlos? Meh. It’s just not La Paz. Or Loreto. People seem happier on the Baja side. Here… It’s hotter than a habanero pepper. Not much to do or see. There are only a few nearby anchorages, and those appear subject to uncomfortable swell, so we haven’t left the marina. Some folks love it. Many expats live here – I would not. I can’t really put my finger on it - it feels lonely somehow. I would not recommend it as a vacation destiny. But… it’s different having your own ride. It’s a whole new level. We are now not cruising; we are temporary liveaboards in Mexico… with a truck. While we didn’t care to have a car in La Paz… here, it’s freeing. We’ll see if it changes our perspective. For now, time to get this fridge installed!