Gettin' Real in Creel

Creel, Chihuahua

Considering that we had only budgeted 48 hours for this trip, we once again set the alarm (so wrong on a trip like this!) in order to maximize our enjoyment of the area. It was cold here this morning (-2 Celsius - it's all relative) and we did not pack quite enough clothing. A hearty breakfast at the Lodge, followed by booking a tour through the hotel. We scrambled through town, where most things were still closed, to find a convenience store where we could buy the fixings for a bag lunch.

When we returned to the hotel we found that our guide was to be Salvador, the fellow who had shown us how to operate the gas stove in our room the night before. We did not know at the time how lucky we were to have him to chauffeur us around for the day. Before leaving the hotel, Liz noticed that Salvador was carrying to the tour vehicle a couple of bags of groceries similar to the ones on offer inside the lobby for donation to the local Tarahumari Indians. We had assumed that money would be given to the hotel who would arrange distribution of the groceries at a later time. Salvador explained that instead, if you bought the bag of groceries, you got to distribute them yourself through the course of the tour. We committed to two bags (for a total of about $12, or 120 pesos).

Our first stop was to La Cueva de Sebastian (Sebastian's Cave), which is named after the patriarch of the currently resident family who set up shop there 60 years ago. These people literally live in a cave. Small rooms are walled off with brick and about four generations live right in or around the cave. They grow corn and make crafts (baskets, bags, clothing and wood carvings). The tourist visits are a means of generating some income. We handed over some of the groceries (cooking oil, bags of salt, flour and sugar, soap) and bought a couple of gewgaws.

It was mindblowing to see people still living in such primitive conditions. Salvador explained that those who still retain much of their traditional lifestyle apparently exist in happiness, but the Tarahumari experience many of the same problems as our own indigenous peoples. Alcoholism claims many men, and increasingly more women, who venture into the towns. The Spanish began with Catholic evangelism in the 1600's, but the Tarahumari burnt down all the churches and killed the priests on at least three different occasions until the Jesuits arrived in the 1700's. There is currently a form of residential school program in place in which the children arrive on Monday morning and sleep over at the school until Friday afternoon. This allows the government to medicate them and teach them all Spanish and introduce them to the wonders of television. But these are people who have successfully resisted cultural assimilation for centuries and they really are different.

We moved along to see some cool rock formations, result of the fact that this part of the world is the product of 70 million years' worth of volcanic activity. They are known as the mushroom and frog rocks- do I need to describe them to you? We encountered more Tarahumari, selling more baskets/knicknacks, and distributed some more of our groceries. It feels good being able to give something, as the giving of money only encourages dependency. As well, we were giving exclusively to the women, who were the ones actually doing much of the handiwork and the selling. It is interesting that the women continue to dress in the traditional manner. Apparently the Tarahumari are swamped with the charitable donation of clothing, which the men adopt readily but not the women.

Next stop was the San Ignacio Mission, where we encountered a couple of other tours, one on mountain bikes and the other on horseback- both would be very cool ways to see this country. The front of the church is decorated with Tarahumari symbols representing the Sun, the Moon and the peyote bud, all three important aspects of their native religion. Of course, when the Jesuits started proselytizing about the Holy Trinity, the Tarahumari realized that maybe there was something to this Catholic religion and that maybe the priests weren't such bad guys after all. The Tarahumari meet at the church every Sunday and after much singing and dancing (not really in line with the gravity of the Catholic service) meet in the courtyard out front to conduct business. Grievances are aired and adjudicated and other matters of social significance are decided. There is a recognized "head man" and his deputy, as well as law enforcement officers, who represent the executive and administrative arms of Tarahumari social law. For all their their primitive lifestyle, they have a remarkably advanced spiritual and social life.

Salvador was extremely knowledgeable about all this, quite congenial, and best of all, English speaking! This is not easy to come by in the backwoods of Mexico. He also proved to be an able driver, when our next stop (after the photo op at "Elephant Rock") took us to a waterfall. We paid the tariff to the Tarahumari at the gate, then set out on a road through the woods that can barely be described as that. The hotel's Suburban, despite Salvador's light hand at the wheel, took a beating, as did the occupants. We were greeted by, you guessed it, more Tarahumari women selling more gear. We continued to hand out groceries and took the 247 step staircase to the base of the falls. Lunch on the tailgate of the Suburban beside the river consequently tasted very good.

The tour took us to another mission with a museum and then to a beautiful lake. We increased our repertoire by buying a bunch of candies which we could distribute to the swarms of children that descended on us at each stop. We finally returned to the hotel 2 hours later than scheduled, due to the fact that Salvador had allowed us to dillydally somewhat and give the boys some time to climb and run. In all, a most satisfying day, and profoundly affecting for the adults. We tried to transmit some of our wonder to the boys at how different life for the Tarahumari is, as well as the beauty of the place in which they live, but like most children they seem to accept it all as just the way things are. Which in a way may be the more reasonable thing to do.

-Remy

Back to warm Mexico - by Bowen

Train Trip back to El Fuerte from Creel

Bowen dictated to Mom.

Today we took the train from Creel back to El Fuerte. The train trip was 7 hours long. I liked the first class train better because it had a carpet floor and a bar car. My favorite thing there were the chocolate bars but we didn't get any. The reason we didn't get any was because before we got on the train we asked somebody if the train took Visa. He said "yes" then we went to pay with Visa and another guy said we couldn't. So our parents ended up having to use mine and Hollis's money to pay for the tickets so we only had about 100 pesos ($10.00 ) for food.

We were so poor we couldn't even get a drink and we had to share the food.

On the way back we were prepared for the tickets but we took the second class train so they didn't have a bar car and the floors are not carpet!

We are sitting right behind the engine car so sometimes it is really loud and school is really boring but me and my brother have our Nintendo DS so we can do something.

Me and my Dad were standing in line to go to the bathroom and some guy came along and offered to sell us burritos and ummm pistachios and little packages of toffee. My Dad got a deal. He asked for 2 but the guy gave him three for 20 pesos ($2)

Weeeeeeeeeee get to stay in a hotel tonight! 

Be sure to turn your volume down when you watch the video.

-Bowen  

AWEsome train trip to the Copper Canyon

El Fuerte, Sinaloa - Creel, Chihuahua

Woken up by the alarm (I hate that!) we cleared out of La Choza Hotel and piled in to the cab that had been ordered by the afternoon desk clerk. We were bedecked with the the various packs, drawstring bags and other items that constitute our luggage for this short journey away from the van. The "cab" appeared to be some sort of independent tour company vehicle, not a regular taxi, and we could not negotiate a fare nearer the 55 peso fee we had been told to expect than the 100 peso fare the driver insisted upon. He explained that it had been thus for at least the last five years, but I am still not sure.

We arrived at the train station, which for some reason lies seven km outside of town, and set our bags down on the platform. We had a choice between "clase primero", which left an hour earlier, made fewer stops en route, and included a bar and restaurant cars, for 980 pesos($95.00 cdn) per adult and half that per child, or the pokier "clase economico" for 360 pesos(34.00) per adult, without the benefit of the aforementioned amenities. We attended the ticket wicket but no one was present to sell us our tickets and knowledgeable people in the crowd assured us that we could purchase our tickets on board. We opted for the earlier primero train, and hopped on when it arrived.

Priding ourselves somewhat as world travelers embarking on another adventure, we were full of confidence as the train started to roll. The conductor quickly deflated that confidence when he stopped by to collect for our tickets. We discovered that our usual strategy in dealing with the language barrier- smiling and responding, "Ah, si!" when confronted with an unintelligible stream of conversation- had been turned against us. Liz had enquired of one of the train staff when it stopped if it was possible to pay with Visa and had been told,"Ah, si." The conductor, who was remarkably handsome and spoke excellent English, disabused us of this belief and informed us that ticket purchase was on a cash-only basis. We conducted a panicked survey of the cash we had on hand, which included pilfering both boys' wallets, and scraped together enough to purchase two adult and one child's tickets. The conductor faced us down, asking how we were going to solve this problem. He didn't know who he was dealing with, though, and we turned our biggest sets of puppy dog eyes on him after exhausting all possibility of ducking off the train to access a bank machine during a stop (not enough time and no machines). Finally, he sold us the three tickets and told us it would be on us if an inspection showed that one of our children was an "illegal". In hindsight, it appears that he knew full well that the prospect of an inspection was unlikely. However, we had a skimpy bag of food and only 40 pesos to last us for the 7 hour trip.

The trip itself was incredible. The line runs from sea level at the west end through some passes that are 8000 ft above sea level. The mountains that it passes through are immense and covered initially in cactus and palo verde, which changes to evergreens and oak at the higher elevations. 37 bridges andover 85 tunnels span the mountains and chasms, and immense switchbacks gain the elevation required. Often you can see the line you have just travelled above or below you on the opposite face of a valley. It is a remarkable feat of engineering which makes the CP line through the Rockies look like child's play. This was by far one of the more scenic journeys we have ever taken.

We had met an English couple on the train who spend a month every year traveling to some exotic locale around the world. They knew of our status as passengers, as well as our current financial situation. When the train stopped in San Rafael and met our first Tarahumari Indians selling  freshly woven baskets. Thye were slightly dam and smeeled of a very parculiar pine like scent. The woman (Jenny) lent Liz 100 pesos ($ 10.00cdn) to purchase a couple right from the doors of the train. That left us enough to purchase gorditas at the stop in Divisadero- delicious! We were so enthralled with the food and the Indians that we completely failed to get any decent photos of the Copper Canyon, even though it is the best location to do so.

We finally reached Creel, the regional center for the Copper Canyon area. After 7 hours of torpor, it was a panicked exit from the train as we gathered up our stuff and rushed off at what turns out is little more than a whistle stop. In the rush, Bowen left his high-tech stainless steel water bottle on the train. We were immediately assailed by the usual hustlers on the platform, all of whom wanted to take us to their hotel. We checked out a couple of seedier establishments (to satisfy Remy's cheapskate tendencies) before settling in at the Best Western Mountain Lodge( Liz's idea). It is much like what one could expect in the Rockies. It is surprising how similar mountain culture is around the world- the architecture et al. The lodge is full of skins, antlers and horns belonging to the various large mammals that inhabit this part of the world, and the atmosphere is quite cold and dry. We have discovered that we did not pack enough clothing! This is not what we had in mind when we pictured Mexico in our plans for this trip. That's a good thing! We feel like we are getting to know many different facets of this country.

Oh, and we did pay Jenny back.

-Remy

In the Birthplace of Zorro

Alamos to El Fuerte

We packed up at the campground in Alamos, no easy task considering how we had made the place home. Packing up the van was the easy part. We had purchased a beautiful painting the night before in the Plaza de Armas and needed to package it for shipment home. Remy set out on his bike to round up the appropriate materials before Liz wrapped it up and consigned it to the care of Wendee and Rene, a couple of "full-timers" (more RV jargon) who will be passing through Calgary in May on their way to spend the summer in Stettler, where they will be "work camping" at Old MacDonald's RV Park.

There was a protracted goodbye with all of our new acquaintances before we chugged out of the campground. Our next destination, El Fuerte, was only about 3 hours drive away. We pulled into the one true RV campground that there is in El Fuerte and were instantly disappointed. We were met by the unofficial greeting party, an American woman who said she liked it there because it was quiet, then immediately counseled us to keep the boys close by as the "Mexicans were all around and you just never know". Clouds of noseeums, rank smoke from the nearby burning barrels and bathrooms that failed to meet even medieval standards sent us packing from there, determined to seek out better quarters downtown. We settled by sheer serendipity on the Hotel La Choza, located just off the main plaza. For about $65 per night (compared to the astronomical $24 at the outer circle of Hell that was the RV park) we got a be-ooooo-tiful room witha domed brick ceiling looking out over a wonderful courtyard, and they agreed to let us park the van in the courtyard while we take the train to the Copper Canyon!

Once that deal was settled, however, came the task of getting the van into the courtyard. The carriage way into the hotel from the street was approximately 1 cm higher than the roof box on the van, and that was with a 200 lb Mexican man riding on the ladder at at the back, checking clearance! Remy had dreams that night about the van being stuck in various situations, showing that our getaway will be a concern. Other than that, we all slept like babies.

The following morning found us starting with breakfast in the room and then hitting the streets early to explore El Fuerte. It still has a lot of its colonial heritage, and we found the Posada Del Hidalgo, a hotel purportedly built on the site of the home to the man that was the historical inspiration for Zorro. The day was mostly spent shopping, with an afternoon bike tour of the crumbling malecon along the river bank. We returned to the hotel to enjoy its beautiful and tranquil setting (until Bowen and Hollis get there, of course). It has a few quirks, as do most things Mexican, it seems, like the three pens out back holding a total of four very small deer, two bucks and two fawns. No idea what that is about.

We returned to the Posada Del Hidalgo at 5:30 PM for the Zorro Happy Hour that had been advertised. We were obviously delirious from the heat. We found ourselves under a palapa beside the pool amidst a group of bus package tourists, being serenaded by a super-cheesy Zorro and mariachi band, while a strange mixture of blue-haired geriatric Japanese Americans and very crass white trash from the tour bus outside jammed tables around us. We purchased over-priced "national" drinks on the 2 for 1 deal, which apparently means that they make you two drinks using the amount of alcohol normally allotted to one. Hollis summed it up afterward by stating that "that wasn't a Happy Hour, that was a Retarded Hour". We would not have been surprised to have been subjected to a timeshare presentation at the conclusion of the whole sordid affair.

We got sucked into one shop earlier in the afternoon filled with interesting antiquities and curios, staffed by an eager woman that shared the space with her pre-school aged son and a kid- goat, that is! We ended up paying for the privilege of photographing her kids, but she was intent on making a sale and would not let us out of the store. The boys, that is. Liz, repulsed by the general dustiness and filth, including fresh goat droppings, found it easy to leave, but all the boys were entranced by the wonderful old junk that was on offer and were all the more easily tempted to remain. Liz finally had to return and free us from the siren's song and push and cajole us outside.

We took the boys out for tacos at a stand with which we were familiar, then installed them in the room with a Rambo movie on the English language channel. Liz and Remy repaired to the hotel restaurant, where we had earlier handed in the package of doves that had been gifted to us by the hunter in the group back in the campground at Alamos. It fell a bit outside the experience of the staff at the hotel to have guests request food cooked to order, but they accommodated the crazy gringos and wrapped the tiny carcasses in bacon, as requested, and served them up to us. Something different for all of us.

We had our first encounter with "Montezuma's revenge", with Liz, Remy and Hollis all affected to greater or lesser degrees. Not an auspicious start to our train journey, but at least it struck while we were comfortably lodged in a hotel and not in the restricted confines of the van. The only likely culprit we can identify is the birria, which we tried for the first time today, but in actual fact, who knows? Bowen was the only one that braved the icy pool and he does not yet appear to have been affected- maybe there is something to be said for that.

-Remy

Bowen turns 8 in true Mexican style

January 25th- Bowen's 8th birthday

The day started out the usual way- well usual for the past 6 days anyway- with the four of us gathering round the picnic table for a delicious breakfast of papaya, oranges from the trees overhead, granola and coconut yogurt. Wendy, our photography neighbor stopped by and offered Bowen her cell phone for him to call a friend back home in Calgary. What a thoughtful thing that was for her to do. Josh wasn't home so he tried Grandma Carol and Grandpa Don next. Bowen told her he was in prison and that this was his one phone call. My parents are a little nervous of our travels with "their" Grandkids so it might have been a bit of a cruel joke.

All through the day other new friends stopped by with good wishes and interesting versions of "happy birthday". It all made Bowen quite self conscious  but he seemed to love the extra attention in our strange new home. We invited all 10 campers and 2 guests of the hotel to a pinata smashing and refreshments at 2pm at our place. Several children arrived this weekend to spend time with their relatives at the Rancho Acosta so we invited them to the party too.

We hung the huge pinata from the tree which was no easy feat as the thing weighed  about 15 lbs! All the kids scrambled for the candy and slingshots once the pinata was broken ( by a skilled mexican boy) and they quickly offered some to all the adults at the party too.

Each of the people we invited brought a small gift for Bowen to open. This was quite a pleasant surprise for us  We didn't know any of these people (other than Alison and Ches) just 6 days ago and here we were celebrating our child's day of birth as if we had known them all our lives. They knew we were leaving the next morning so supplied us with extra purified water, fishing tackle and a bag of frozen doves from Joan and Mike who spend a great deal of their time in Mexico hunting these little creatures (it's a local thing.)

This is a birthday that all in attendance won't soon forget and both Remy and I are so grateful for the opportunity to share it with them all.

Alamos has been great but it is time to move on to El Fuerte tomorrow where we will catch the train to Creel near the Copper Canyon.

-Liz-

Remember the Alamos!

We have hit Alamos as hard core turistas! The FAOT is in full swing so we have decided to soak up as much of the local culture as possible. It is interesting to watch the locals ogle as we, a group of bicycle-borne gringos, wheel past them in the cobbled streets of this colonial town.

Our first destination is the Mercado Artesanias on the west edge of town. This is where normally the local handicrafters sell their wares, but for the duration of the festival it is the home of indigenous cultural performances. We timed it perfectly to catch the dancing by the Yaqui indians, who are a remarkably handsome and robust people. No wonder the Spanish decided not to bother trying to conquer them militarily and waited instead for the Jesuits and the Franciscans to do the trick and just embarrass  them out of their own culture. The music and the costume is quite different to what we are used to and fairly hypnotic. The deer figures quite prominently in their myth cycle, mixed in with a very Catholic projection of the devil, for a compelling performance.

We fed and watered ourselves on the Alameda (the commercial market area in Alamos) and made the acquaintance of "Gus", a California-born Latino who spends a lot of time in the area apparently trading with the Yaqui. He was able to explain some of what we had seen to us. Like many people that we have already met, Gus had some difficulty explaining exactly what it is that he does to get by, which raises Remy's police hackles somewhat, but he was quite charming and nothing that he said or did ever turned into any sort of hustle.

As is our wont, we timed it so that the most physically demanding part of our travels coincided with the hottest part of the afternoon. We cycled up tho El Mirador. which is the highest point in town. The majority of the way was on harshly cobbled streets and the final pitch was quite steep. The view over the city and surrounding area was worth it, though, as was the ice cream treat (for the boys). The ride back down was a test of both man and machine. A few nuts were shaken loose, and not just on the bikes!

A trip across the arroyo to the Barrio del Monasterio led to the La Moderna bakery. We missed the timing on that, though, as only a few sweet buns and some molasses cookies were still available on the shelves. We enjoyed these in the front yard, which is one of the few grassy areas in town, before grabbing some groceries from el mercado and heading back to the campground. The afternoon was spent with Liz doing work on the computer, the boys swatting each other with their Airsoft guns and Remy freaking out the locals by conducting a workout with a small boulder beside the old pool area. After a delicious dinner of jumbo prawns, delivered to our campsite by an itinerant seafood salesman (!) we suited up and headed into town on our bikes again to partake of the festival. You can tell it is a Friday night, as the energy has gone up a couple of notches and the amount of Tecate beer being consumed in the streets has increased geometrically. Frenetic music being played by bandas at each street corner has men in cowboy attire and women with big busts and bums dancing energetically beside taco stands and merchants. This is in contrast to the performances at the city hall, which usually consist of of some variation or combination of opera and classical music, which are attended by well-heeled Mexicans and gringos sitting in serious contemplation both inside (paid seats) and outside (where the performance is projected onto the facing wall, for free). Two other main stages host free performances of widely varying types, from show tunes to jazz to alternative rock. The hubbub is quite audible from the campground, which is located away on the east edge of town, but still cannot compete with the cacophony of animal noises (barking dogs, cat fights, lowing cows and, oddly enough, crowing roosters) that continue through the night.

Life is good here. We are able to feed the family at a taco stand for $15 or less, and that includes a beer each for mommy and daddy. The price isn't much different at a cenaduria (family restaurant) but we prefer the energy of a taco stand on the plaza. Another $20 gets us accommodations at the campground, where we are able to avail ourselves of the facilities around the pool, just like a hotel guest. The weather seems perfect too as it is warm enough to eat breakfast in a tee shirt outside, warms to about 25 - 30 C during the day then cools enough at night to require a long sleeve shirt or light jacket. Sleep comes easy.

 It is odd to think that for many Mexicans, our current way of life is out of touch.

-Remy

super secret campground in Alamos

Alamos- Jan 20 

We left San Carlos eager to arrive at our new destination of Alamos. The highway leaving town was littered with seafood vendors selling  clams, scallops, white fish and the most enormous  shrimp either of us has ever seen! We could not fit two in the palm of our hand. We bought a kilo for $12 which was probably more than we needed to pay but the luxury of having them right there was too good to pass up especially if we won't see them again till we make our way back to the coast.

 Hollis has taken a keen liking to almost anything that comes out of the sea, especially shrimp and crab. 

  We had heard lots of great things from fellow travelers about Alamos being a quaint colonial town with grand buildings and plazas recently restored to their former polish . We soon discovered that it was not only a beautiful place with narrow cobbled streets begging to be explored but there was a 10 day  international music festival about to start on Thursday. Our two day visit has now morphed into at least a week. Ahhhh the joys of long term travel.

Our friends, Alison and Ches have stayed in Alamos before so advised us on the super secret campground located on the other side of town. Due to the very narrow streets and sharp turns needed to get here( not to mention the shallow river crossing required )  we figured our "rig" would be the largest in the campground. What a surprise it was to see one motorcoach ( those giant buses you see many full time RV'ers driving), and several 5th wheels parked here. I figured they must have helicoptered them in cause there was no way they took the same route that we did getting here.  Turns out they had help from the local police to close down the one way street at 5am  so they could take a more direct route here. There is some major construction going on in and around the river now so the big rigs might be stuck here for awhile! Nobody seems to mind that prospect though. Why leave during the festival?

FAOT ( Fiesta Alfonzo Ortiz Tirado) has taken over the town and the quiet plazas are filled with vendors of food, glass, leather, beaded things,  taco stands, hot dogs wrapped in bacon ,candy carts and homemade preserves and cajeta  (carmelized goat milk ) It's delicious!

 All the music is free and last night, opening night , we watched the opera being broadcast onto the street from inside the concert hall that was too full to take in any more people. We sat on the retaining wall and relished the ambiance of people, music,  men on horseback, full bellies and a warm night.  The main plaza featured a tight Cuban band that by the end of the night had everyone up dancing in the light sprinkling of rain.

Of course it all starts quite late as is the Mexican tradition so our ride back to our campsite on our bicycles was a tricky one in the dark. I took one wrong turn and startled a group of sleeping chihuahas . They chased me barking their little mouths off and I nearly had to kick one that seemed particularly vicious! The daily trek over the shallow river was easily handled by the boys who have become experts at managing their bikes and their bodies over the two 6 inch wide planks that allow pedestrians access to the other side. 

I would be remiss if I didn't write about the incredible generosity we have experienced from the Mexican people. We have been having trouble uploading photos onto our blog site so Hollis and I rode into town to try our luck at the internet cafe/ courtyard.  The owner, Ernesto, speaks pretty good English and we have been dropping in at least once a day. He suggested I mainline right to the internet via his ethernet cable which meant I took up his chair inside the cafe . He needed to go to the market for some supplies so left me in charge of the cafe AND gave Hollis his computer to use while he was gone. Thankfully it was a slow time and I didn't need to pull out my past barista experience while he was away.

Ground coffee and especially espresso grind are nearly impossible to find here, even my new friend Ernesto gets his delivered pre- ground. I was expressing my amazement to another shop keeper named Elaina about being able to buy Mexican coffee in Canada but I can't buy Mexican coffee in Mexico. She understood my dilemma and offered to lend me her coffee grinder if I wanted to come back the next day. I did come back but only to tell her I couldn't find any beans. I couldn't believe it but she had anticipated my difficulty and brought me some beans too! Only in Turkey have I ever experienced such kindness. She refused any money from me and was happy just knowing  that she had made another coffee lovers day.

Bowen has a birthday in 2 days so we are searching for a small pinata that we can fill with candy that he and Hollis can break open with Remy's billy club.  Camping here is easy as things one needs for comfort such as purified water, propane or even fresh jumbo shrimp are delivered right to the campsite by eager entrepreneurs. With any luck a pinata salesman will drop by too!

-Liz

  

Mexico for free

San Carlos on the beach for 4 days (16-20 Jan 09)

Life in Mexico has taken a dramatic change for the better since that first night in the Pemex  gas station parking lot where Hollis got teary eyed and asked if he could fly home.

We asked around as is our fashion and found a  sandy oasis on the outskirts of town where we could camp for free. ( We are having trouble loading photos at the moment so will try to add them later.)

Our little Shangri-La allowed us to camp on the quiet beach in one of the most beautiful spots ever. Nothing but the sound of the waves crashing on the beach to lull us to sleep each night. 

We made friends with several of the long term boondockers and even got invited to the Marguerita party last Friday night at Peggy and Helmut's 5th wheel. (RV slang) We brought the boys and they giggled listening to the old folks (not us, the other campers) tell stories of life on the road. One fellow , Steve, from Vancouver Island showed  Hollis what  the locals call "Penis Mountain". It was true, the top of the mountain DID look like a penis and of course the boys laughed and laughed. 

We toured up and down the beach collecting the most interesting shells, rocks and sea glass. We could even walk to the Soggy Peso beach bar for lunch or a beer if we didn't feel like cooking or if we ran out of veggies which did happen on our last day there. Next door to the bar was a sports shop that had showers in the back for 50 cents.  I thought this was too good to be true so I gathered my razor, shampoo, lotion and clean towel for what I thought was going to be pure heaven. I rode my new coaster bike the mile or two down the road to luxuriate after 3 days of living wild but soon discovered the showers were a communal thing and blasted out frigid water only! I needed that shower so bad that I got naked despite the chance of some kite boarder dude walking in on me in all my frozen glory.

While enjoying a beer at the Soggy Peso one afternoon I met a couple from New Mexico who had been staying at the RV park in town. Chess and Alison  didn't look like RV park types ( not that there's anything wrong with that!) so I invited them to join us at the beach. Turns out they have been touring in their Sprinter van for a one and a half  years.... Kindred Spirits! They are excellent company around the fire and Chess and Remy spend hours looking over maps as we plan our next adventure ( Copper Canyon) Our plan is to drive to Alamos which is located inland about 250 Km from here and our new friends are planning their second trip there too. They know of a super secret  campground at the  Rancho Acosta just outside of town so I think we'll hook up with them there. 

The boys are enjoying the fact that we have made some friends even if they are adult ones. Alison is keen to look at all the creepy, pointy and stinky things the boys bring us from their forays on the beach and Chess tells a good adventure story. We like them too because they share the same sense of adventure that we do and they are happy doing it in a smallish van customized to their simple needs.

-Liz

So we have already realized the dream- camping for free on the beach in Mexico! We are sandwiched between an impoverished fishing village and a community of condo houses, every second one of which has one of those "infinity" pools where the edge that faces the sea allows water to flow over, giving the illusion that the pool flows into the sea. It is a surreal place to be, between those that have no choice and have nothing, and those that do have a choice and have a lot. We have a choice and choose nothing- for a while, with the luxury of being able to choose more, when we choose.

Our van is pulled into one of the few copses of scrubby trees that remain along the beach, with a fire ring already built. We light fires of dried cactus at night, which burn so hot that one night chunks of rock were blasting off one of the surrounding stones!

We are next door to one of the local fishing villages, three of which line the bays that extend north of town. They are called La Manga 1, 2 and 3. You know that you are in a poor part of the world when they can't afford their own names and have to share a single one! It is quite depressing to walk the single dusty road that runs through town. People live in shanties built of adobe, cinderblock or corrugated steel. The desert on the other side of the road is festooned with garbage and midden piles of shells smashed open by the divers. Laundry is done by hand on a washboard and hung beside the dusty road to dry. Like many Mexican projects, the church is 2/3 complete and apparently reached that state decades ago. Some of the men work hard, putting out in their battered pangas 7 days a week to fish; some don't work at all. All of the women work hard. Children are schooled until about grade 5, but if they have no way of getting into the nearest sizeable town (Guaymas) then their schooling ends there. 

The divers dress in patchwork wetsuits and use "hookah" rigs to breathe. This consists of a compressor with a long hose with a regulator at the end to supply air below water. It is usually powered by a stinky 2-stroke Briggs and Stratton engine, the exhaust for which is usually located beside the intake for the air compressor. The boats that are used are of very dubious seaworthiness. Needless to say, we saw very few old men in the village. For all that, people are friendly and welcoming (a cliche to us rich gringos, I know) , and there are about half a dozen seafood restaurants in a town of what appears to be maybe 200 people. It is a summer destination for middle-class Guaymans, many of whom have lots in the village with summer cottages ranging from very trim adobe homes to decrepit campers set upon milk crates and cinder blocks. It appears that many families live in spaces not much bigger than our camper van.

The sea is a bit cold to be swimming in and the weather took a turn for the cooler while we were there. It actually rained on us for a bit, which is notable in the Sonoran desert! There is an amazing amount of wildlife here. Cormorants, gulls and albatross on the water, sandpipers at its edge, and immense condors over land. The boys discovered a nearly complete skeleton of some large cat on the beach, bigger than a bobcat. Javelinas and coyotes occupy the desert along with some feral horses. Ad of course, many gringos along the beach.

That in itself is a strange culture. The boondockers come from all over- Alberta, BC, Saskatchewan, and all over the US. Most have sizeable rigs, but a healthy number of car campers as well. Liz mentioned Helmut and his wife from Massachussets, who chose San Carlos specifically so he could kiteboard all winter. All of the boondockers are immensely pleased with themselves to be living rent-free, which I admit was a novelty for us at first, too. It quickly wore off though, and basic necessities like drinking water, electricity and food became an issue for us. I walked about 2 kilometers to get water, and the return trip with a 5 gallon bottle strapped to my back in the heat of the day was a lesson in Sisyphean tolerance. We broke out the solar shower when three days of "au naturel" BO became intolerable. So now we know what we are capable of, but also what we desire as a minimum for comfort. It is good to have established both so early in the trip.

-Remy

Snorin' in the Sonoran (Desert)

Tucson, AZ to Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico!

For once, we were the family idling slowly out of the RV park at an ungodly early hour. The photo shows us enjoying our first proper family meal in the van the night before. Looks pretty cosy, doesn't it?

We made our way to the Walmart in Nogales, AZ for final provisioning before heading to the border. Crossing proved to be rather anticlimactic, as we apparently do not fit the profile of drug or people smugglers, as we were waved through the multitude of checkpoints along the way, and the only true hangup was at the point where we had to pay the multivarious fees required to enter Mexico legally. After $230 for vehicle insurance in Nogales on the US side, and $50 for the vehicle permit and $75 for visitor visas, we were in-country!

The highway to Magdalena was characterized by miles and miles of fencing  to keep the illegal immigrants from jumping on a truck. It must be a test of patience to drive a truck across the border. At one point, we saw a military checkpoint that had trucks backed up for about 5 kilometers and the soldiers were moving none too fast. It appears the government is building a checkpoint with multiple inspection stations, so maybe that will change soon.

The highway itself was nerve-wracking. It is divided the whole way, with two lanes per side, but the shoulders are so close and steep that even the Mexicans consider them dangerous. And that is saying a lot! We figured out pretty quickly what "Orilla peligroso" means.

Contrary to the common wisdom, we ended up on the highway after sunset, which with the above-mentioned road feature coupled with the presence of some huge mule deer made driving perilous, so we committed to our first night of boondocking. The second photo shows the sweet spot we selected, located at an abandoned gas station site next door to a Pemex station. We felt better when other trucks pulled into the same lot to spend the night, but when the drivers got out and began to party, the combined noise of an impromptu Mexican fiesta and the liberal use of engine brakes by those trucks that passed by made sleep a difficult proposition.

We rousted ourselves early in order to get a good start on the day and made it to San Carlos, our first Mexican beach town. It is good to be by the sea! We wrestled with where to stay in the town, then got directions to a beautiful boondocking location on the beach north of town. We have provisioned ourselves and will be living completely off the grid, so please do not expect a post for a couple of days. We should have some cool photos to post when we return to the cyber world!

-Remy

We Got the Corner Lot!

So this is how we wake up, like we're parked at a Woody's RV lot. Of course, an RV lot in Calgary has snow piled around the edges and nobody else is there. We missed the coffee and donut social this morning at 9:00 AM. I am sure the singular good looks of our RV has many in the park talking, as does the fact of Liz' morning run and my Highland workout with with a large boulder last night. As Canadians we are certainly representing, and the Americans will certainly think twice of they ever consider coming across the 49th parallel to steal our water.

We stayed in the area for one more day and went to the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum (a school field trip, we told the boys). Along the way we stopped in Gates Pass, a beautiful locale to the west of the city on the edge of Saguaro National Park. (Second photo) We discovered that "Museum" is a bit of a misnomer as the facility is more of a wildlife and environmental preserve. The desert is beautiful, but extremely harsh. Everything has thorns/horns/scales/sharp edges, and every second animal appears to be venomous. It makes me think twice about going for a hike.

The saguaro cactus here is very impressive, with some growing to the height of small spruce trees. I wanted to call this post "So weary of saguaro" for the sake of the play on words, but because of the falsity of the statement Liz prevailed upon me not to do so.

We got the wind up a bit with all the concern expressed from various quarters about our decision to expose ourselves and our children to the "dangers" of Mexican tourism, but luckily we are in e-mail contact with our neighbours, Stan and Marian, who are veterans of many years (decades?) of snowbirding in Mexico and who were able to put it all in perspective for us. We look forward to crossing the border tomorrow.

-Remy

"Please Mom, I NEED this hat!"

Tucson, AZ

Woke up in the surreal landscape that is the Arizona RV park. We had a great sleep because by 9:00 PM the sidewalks had been rolled up and all the other "campers" had snuggled into their beds to watch TV or e-mail their grandchildren from their laptops. Hollis and Bowen tried to have some fun this morning on their skateboards but were shooed from the loading dock by some old grouch who told them that skateboarding is not allowed. They are now fully loaded up with outlaw skateboarding cred.

Other than all the rules that discriminate against non-geriatrics, life here is pretty good. The bathrooms are kept cleaner than our own and we have the pool, hot tub and all the exercise equipment to ourselves.

We find we like the groove here in Tucson a lot. Liz put her finger on it when she stated that Phoenix is for old people and Tucson (the RV park notwithstanding) is for young people. You gotta love a university town. We will be here at least one more day, exploring.

The re-build of the van continues. A leak had developed in one of the rear tires that was quickly worsening so we took it into a shop. The guy looked at the age of the tires and asked incredulously, "You drove all the way from Canada on those?" So we have new skins on the rear wheels. I wonder what the old crate has waiting up it's tailpipe for us next.

Oh, and the photo? We discovered a great thrift shop in the funky part of town that inspired Liz to invest in a whole Hallowe'en outfit to be sent home. It includes a wig, which I must say I found intriguing. There might be some trick or treating going on in the Tompkins household long before October 31 this year. While Liz was busy re-inventing herself, Bowen donned a few new threads. I guess he doesn't get enough dress-up time playing with Hollis so this was a good opportunity to express himself. You can't always tell what is going on behind that gap-toothed grin, and he continually surprises us.

Finally, Liz found an inexpensive coaster bike which completes the family bicycle suite which we anticipate we will be using extensively in Mexico. It is shiny and silver and pleased Liz like punch. I carefully mounted it on the rack on the back of the van to bring it back home from the shop, drove it back to the RV park and immediately backed into a very sturdy steel guard beam. The sickening crunch elicited a word from Liz' honeyed mouth that made quite an impression on the boys.  Apparently my karma account was full as the bike swung out of the way and only the bike rack itself made any real contact. Anyway, it can't look too new when we take it across the border.

I can't believe how cheap these things are down here!

Phoenix-Tucson

 We were just coming in to Tucson from Phoenix and we were doing some shopping for skateboard stuff and a cruiser bike for my mom, when we came across this store where everything was super cheap.... we all decided to take up smoking! Just kidding... these were really cool replicas of real cigarettes and cigars, the neatest thing about them is that when you breath out, this smoke-like stuff comes out!! Well all except the pipe, all in all the things we got at that store are hours of fun! Today we started camping, and the trailer park is full of old people, that went to bed hours ago! Tomorrow we stay in Tucson then the next day we make a run for the border.

-Hollis

Racoons, you've been warned.

While Remy and I were touring one of the most fascinating things we have seen on this journey - Arcosanti, our boys were engaged in a major airsoft battle in the coulee to the south. The Arizona landscape seems to be the perfect place for them to get their ya ya's out. They ask to shoot" just one"! bullet every time we stop even if it's just to pee so they were in airsoft heaven. 

Hollis and Bowen have started a new fashion trend here in the desert. Bowen isn't sporting his because he had previously stuck his in the back of his pants so it looked like a tail and when he went to remove it the tail ripped in half. OUCH

We stopped briefly just off the highway to get some cold water to drink. Ours had become quite hot in it's stainless steel container ( sorry, just had to throw that bit in there!)

We came across this most unusual couple in the parking lot of the gas station. I got totally busted when I tried to sneak a photo with my telephoto lens all the way from across the parking lot- It's hard to be inconspicuous in that van! The biker

noticed and waved so we drove over and had a great chat with them. Turns out he was just being a good samaritan by 

helping out the Franciscan Nun in distress. Dontcha just love America?

Tomorrow- Tucson and perhaps Mexico!

-Liz

Arcosanti- The Urban Laboratory!

Flagstaff-Arcosanti-Phoenix, AZ

Today we learned that Flagstaff, Arizona is the coldest city in the lower 48 states. The fact that we found ourselves there of all the warm places in Arizona is quite amusing.We were not smiling this morning but now that we have picked a lemon and an orange from the trees surrounding our  outdoor pool and hot tub here in Phoenix we can have a little giggle.

Apparently Flagstaff is where people from the rest of Arizona go in the summer to get a break from the heat.

It just figures the sun seeking Canadians would end up there.

When will we start camping you ask? We don't want to rush into things here. Camping requires some preparation and I think after spending the last year getting ready for this trip we are quite happy to flop into a hotel at the end of the day, have a glass of wine by the pool and fill ourselves in the morning with all the "free continental breakfast" we can eat. We've turned on the propane fridge tonight and made the obligatory stop at Costco for some inexpensive booze so maybe tomorrow we'll camp.... maybe not.

We stopped at the most interesting and inspiring place today. Arcosanti- www.arcosanti.org is billed as an urban laboratory. Back in the 70's an Italian architect named Paolo Soleri had a vision to build an experimental city combining architecture and ecology or "archology" that was high density and self reliant. It's very George Jetson but in an earthy, hairy armpit kind of way.

 The project has been in the works for over 30 years now and only a fraction of if has been completed. Seems that the selling of cast bronze bells (which are very famous and expensive) don't quite cover the expenses of building this Utopia in the desert. My feeling though is that with the green movement this "city" will get a lot more attention and perhaps more funding.

A visit to the web site is a great place to learn more and see some excellent photos. We had the most amazing organic buffet lunch after our tour made with ingredients grown right on the property.

Volunteers come from all over the world for their 5 week workshops and some have just never left. We would seriously consider returning some day to learn more about this place and volunteer our time helping out with some of the construction. 

-Liz

A "Grand" Day

Page to Flagstaff, AZ

A beautiful, sunny morning in Page, AZ, on the shores of Lake Powell, a massive man-made reservoir. Like many aspects of this country, where overwhelming industrial might has dominated the environment, there is a slightly surreal air to this place where an enormous fresh-water sea has been created in the midst of a desert. There are dozens of used and new boat dealerships and repair shops and billboards advertising marinas, in a place thousands of kilometers from the ocean and literally years since the last rainfall (not counting the freak pre-Christmas snowfall this year). We took a tour of the Antelope canyon before leaving Page (top photo), which is an enterprise run by entrepreneurial Navajo that showcases a marvelous natural feature on their reserve. It comprises a hike through a 1/4 mile long, 100' deep slot canyon which the infrequent downpours have carved out of sandstone over thousands of years. The rock formations are beautiful and eerie and provide amazing photo opportunities. 

 The day was spent travelling through the Navajo Reservation, which is some of the most stunning scenery to date. There are countless roadside stands purveying authentic Navajo crafts, though most sit empty and idle this time of year. The reserve is massive and full of the same type of housing found on the reserves in Canada, in much the same state of repair. It is odd to see the natives here refer to themselves as "Indians". I am not sure whether it just doesn't have the same pejorative connotation as it does back home or if they have reclaimed the title for themselves. I can't help but believe that in the land of "Freedom Fries", which has elevated political correctness to a ridiculous height, that it is the latter case.

We made our way to the Grand Canyon, by which I, with a long history of Hollywood and TV farces (a la Chevy Chase, par example) and a deep-seated cynicism regarding American hyperbole informing me, was prepared to be unimpressed. Instead, it proved to be an awesome spectacle. In January, it also proves to be a rather cold one! At elevations of 5000-6000 ', the rim of the canyon is pretty frosty this time of year. Who knew? (Who travels here in January?) There is a massive pine forest along the rim, huge mule deer and road signs warning of cougars crossing (different from the ones in Las Vegas). The scale of the place gobsmacked me, but failed to have an impact on the boys. We should have made them hike to the canyon floor.

The drive from the GC to Flagstaff took us through a pass at 8000' where there was more snow than any where in the mountains near Calgary. Arizona is not all rattlesnakes and kokopellis, we are discovering. The Safeway in Flagstaff where we stopped to pick up grub for dinner (see, I'm adopting the accent) was full of gen-u-ine cowboys, dressed in their finest duds. And, it was freakin' cold. We are really happy knowing that the next stop is Phoenix and some of those snowbird-like temperatures of which we (and I am sure by now, you) have been dreaming.

-Remy

Our Typical Day

Fillmore, UT to Page, AZ

This is a picture of the bee hives that Remy spoke of on the blog yesterday. The first car we tried to pose in front of had a very angry canine inside!

I have realized how quickly we have developed routines on our travels,  different from the ones at home but still routines all the same.. It's human nature I suppose but interesting that we need them and create them.

Here is what a typical day this week has looked like:

Bowen calls the front desk the night before  to arrange for a 6:30 am wake up. It takes us till about 8:15 to finish the free continental breakfast then we are on our way. Of course we force the boys to grab a piece of fruit to take with us as it may be the only fiber they get all day!

The boys usually catch up on their beauty sleep in the van for an hour or two while Remy and I enjoy the quiet and the gradual decrease in visible snow on the roads.

Campervan school usually begins around 11:30. Remy positions himself between the boys and is constantly cranking his head from side to side answering questions for "Mr Tompkins".

After about an hour or so we stop for a pee, some gas and call it a day for the schoolwork.

It amazes me that Remy seems to have such good recall when it comes to grade 7 math. I think I get more frustrated than Hollis when I try to help him with his work so I happily plug in some of my fav tunes while the boys get educated. Someone has to drive!

We have finally reached the warmer climate of Arizona and feel like we want to linger and see what's what wherever we stop. Today was Kanab, Utah. Famous for the many films that get shot there including Planet of the Apes (1 and 2). Bowen takes charge and will easily go into the tourist info for directions or information. He discovered that Kanab had a dilapidated skate park so we HAD to go there. Tons of video footage was shot there just in case Element is looking for someone to sponsor.

We had the most amazing drive from Kanab to Page, Arizona. The topography is very much like the badlands in Alberta but a thousand times more impressive, it goes for hundreds, maybe thousands of miles and the rock is very red! It was an awesome sight.

Around 5pm we start thinking about finding a place to stay. A hotel with a pool, hot breakfast and wifi are our top priorities. Best Western usually gets our business. It's hard to believe but for average $60 bucks a night ( American!) we get a room, a swim,hot shower, wifi and breakfast for 4! Why camp?

Tonight we visited the highly recommended Ken's Bar and Grill for dinner.  We usually feel like we have to venture further than across the parking lot to get good food but there was something very authentic about this honky tonk place that we just had to see. Sure enough the place oozed country/ western. They even had ranch dressing at the salad bar! The live music was great and it seems our wholesome Canadian good looks made us stick out in the crowd (I'm sure it had nothing to do with the Lululemon jacket and pants I had on while my jeans were being washed) Before we knew it the lead singer was chatting us up then invited Remy and Bowen up onto the stage to sing an Elvis tune.- See attached picture-. I haven't laughed so hard since I took Bowen to a "salon" for a haircut.

Tomorrow we have decided to stick around here a little longer and take a 4x4 tour of Antelope Canyon. Every postcard and travel guide in this town boast the most beautiful pictures taken there so we figure it is worth the extra time. Then we're off to spend a day and night at the Grand Canyon!

I think today is the first day that I have really felt the excitement of this trip. The first few days were a slog just to get to warmer weather but now that we are here and our van is running smoothly we can relax and enjoy the fact that we don't have to be anywhere soon. We are constantly reminding each other "can you believe we have 6 months of this!?"

The Mexican border beckons us but the lure of this land needs to be explored just a bit longer. I realize though with all there is to see that 6 months may not be long enough.

It thrills us to see how many of our friends have become "followers" on our blog. We share all the comments we receive with each other  as it makes us feel so connected even though we are so far away.

-Liz

 

Mormon Speakeasy

Pocatello, ID to Fillmore, UT

Finally, a good travel day! Woke up to a chinook (though they don't call it that) in Pocatello and followed the sun south into Utah. A nice stop in Salt Lake City, which is way more cool than we expected. We walked through the seat of the LDS church on Chapel Square and marvelled at the Osmondesque smiles everywhere. I guess it's easy to keep one's teeth pearly white when you don't smoke or drink coffee and red wine. This city did host a winter Olympics, like Calgary, and boasts a great soup restaurant. The state symbol is the beehive, based on a famous Brigham Young speech that exhorted the first settlers to contribute and conform like bees in order to assure the success of the community. Beehives are everywhere as a result, on the legislature building and on the doors of State Patrol cars. An interesting state this, where you can travel Fillmore - Beaver in the same day. Honest, check the map.

Tomorrow- Arizona!

-Remy

Da Gangstas

Whitehall, MT to Pocatello, ID

My brother and I were so bored and nagged our parents so much that they actually let us use our new Airsoft guns... we had broken down for the second time in two days, so we were playing with them in a parking lot while the van was being fixed in the city of Idaho Falls. Just before this picture was taken I had shot my brother as he popped up and noticed his safety was still on so I ended up shooting him in the jugular, making a diamond shaped welt on his neck! Tonight we are in Pocatello, tomorrow were going to Utah.

-Hollis

Gizzard in a Blizzard

Whitehall, MT to Pocatello, ID

Well, one of the reasons we embarked on this journey was to expose our children to foreign cultures and cuisines. It didn't take long. While stranded in Whitehall, Montana, Hollis "Bubba" Tompkins discovers a local delicacy. Apparently, at least one of these babies is purchased every day from the gas station convenience store. Liz, the epicure, questioned a staff member about this dish and was reassured that they didn't eat pickled gizzards- they prefer them deep-fried!

-Remy

F***ing, F**ker's, F**ked

Lethbridge, AB to Whitehall, MT

Woke up in Lethbridge (for the 100th time because of the howling winds) and got off to an early start after a starchy breakfast. The winds continued to howl all through southern Alberta and northern Montana, blowing snow sideways across the road to such an extent that at points it felt more like sailing than driving. We started noticing that the heater was having problems heating while the engine was having problems cooling. Pulled into the Conoco station in Whitehall, Montana (right, where?) and found that a coolant hose had split, at one of the most inaccessible locations on the whole engine. Three hours later, standing on his head most of the time with an icy wind blowing into vehicle, Remy managed to replace the hose using a part supplied by a local Good Samaritan that Liz had contacted through the staff at the gas station. The engine still ran hot after the repair so we decided to spend the night rather than risk a more disastrous breakdown somewhere more remote. We'll check in with the local mechanics tomorrow before hitting the highway.

-Remy

Goodbye to the neighbors we LOVE

Calgary to Lethbridge, AB

Thanks so much to Rebecca and Lars for hosting a lovely event last night that gave us the opportunity to say goodbye to some friends from the hood. K.C, Fred and baby Colby are honorary Inglewoodians now too.

After a late night spent partying, packing we decided to forgo the early start and have a little sleep in. Besides, the whole idea of the trip is to get away from deadlines and agendas so what better time to turn over a new leaf?

 Michele ( Liz's sister)joined us for one  last breakfast at the Blackfoot Truck stop then  we had a much appreciated send off from Al, Michele, Darryl, Rebecca, LArs, Casey, Angela and Lisa.

We made it all the way to Lethbridge before the sun went down! At this rate we should be in Mexico in about 4 weeks. The draw of a hot tub, water slides and a pizza was too much so we stayed  here for the night. Besides, the notorious winds blow so hard here that the snow has formed in huge drifts across the roads. It just doesn't feel right to be in our campervan negotiating the snow like this in the dark.

I think the boys are excited about crossing the border tomorrow. They have asked us a hundred times, "How long till we get to the U.S.?" I think they think that just across the border is the land of endless sunshine and free skateparks.

-Liz