October 09, 2005, 11:14 PM:


So to catch y'all up... today was a very good day. Multiple hunnerd to maybe hunnerd fitty yarders. I'm talkin' like twenty or so. The super tanker at full trim. Trunkin' with a rash guard, and a ballistic bush hat, thank you patagucci. Y'all won't get these recent transmissions until I finally make time to stop and check out one of the internet cafe's I've seen along the way. I am currently in a place called Punta Abreojos, and let me tell you... lovin' every second of my life today. I feel like I'm finding the person I lost. The one who put my total health (soul, body, mind) at the top of the list. I still don't know what happened, but rediscovering myself and what really defines me feels great. Example. I'm at this "secret spot," and out of nowhere this local fisherman pulls up in his truck with fresh, local clams (that looked just like scallops) and shrimps. The clams were the size of bacon wrapped filet mignons or I'm Gary Johnston, the greatest actor in the world. About seven fitty for a 1/2 kilo (which felt like more than a pound; don't know the conversion off the top of my head). So, I marinated them in a little lime, garlic, soy, seasoned rice vinegar, white truffle oil, sesame oil, pepper, and sea salt, then sautee'd the little buggers with a fresh tomato, and paired the carne with queso blanco / tipico and a chipotle salsa on fresh flour tortillers, and just went absolutely insane eating all of it with a nice hot tea, to cap off a solo sunset surf, where I got a wave so long, that I linked two points up and almost made it around the bend. If that would have happened, jesus t_tty f___ing christ, it would have been a quarter miler or I'm Neil Sedaka.




I'm not going to get into a lot of the details of the trip, because the book, or a book, seems to be coming out of it. Suffice to say that a couple days ago I hit a transition from paved to gravel road so hard that my side airbag deployed and it burned my arm. Heather (in case y'all didn't know, Heather came down to meet me in San Diego to start my trip off in a show of support and unconditional super bitchin' niceness. Oh, and I haven't really changed a whole lot about myself, and..., she likes me just the way I am; apparently she doesn't feel the need to change me, or not be happy unless I'm a perfectly immasculated cotton-headed ninnymuggins) thought I got shot I made such a scene... in the middle of freakin' nowhere. The cars okay, I'll have to sew the seat back up when I find the time. The following day, I apparently got a flat tire on the same damn road, but of course didn't realize it because,..., I'm a dumbass, and sometime later succeeded in shredding my brand new tire. I got a new one that's a close match for about the same price that I'd pay up in the states, but in my state (I get a little OCD when I get stressed out), I actually considered buying four for a matching set. God I'm even a jackass without even trying.


Our first foray into Mexican waters was at a place close to Puerto Nuevo, where street vendors compete for your american dollar by hawking cheap and very tasty lobster (langosta) dinners. We met a couple guys, Paul and Bryce, who were very nice for being from california (just kidding; jesus, I bet you even think that uncapitalizing california is some sort of a dig too...), went out to surf with us for a seshionne. I was the first to notice the decapitated goat carcass with two goat heads lying nearby looking at me asking: "why was I born with square pupils? My question in return was: "where's the other stinky, bloated mort, and how can you possibly know if you've got square pupils, being a goat, and, ..., dead?" But hey, you either surf, or fight soldier. I love the smell of carcass in the morning, it smells like, really gross.


I came up with the idea of a variation of slug bug, speaking of carcass. Okay so, you can't just call carcass by smelling it, you have to be the first one to spot it, then you can slug away. Heather's not too keen on the slugging; apparently I have a pretty good nose for l'eau de morte, so we're playing the "I'm not touching you, but getting really close to touching you, but I'm not touching you" game. It's been fun. We watched "Elf" on the computer last night; good times.


Our next stop is Scorpion Bay... doood the Scorps!!!!!!!! Blackout! duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh, la la blah blah blah blackout duh nuh nuh nuh nuh, nuh nuh nuh!!!!!!!!


October 11, 2005, 11:21 AM:


Another story. So, we left the beautiful secret spot with rides so long I'm still tasting them. We stayed the night over in Santa Rosalia on the Sea of Cortez side of the peninsula. It's one of the larger towns we've driven through, and I noticed a gut feeling of potential thievery. Back at one of the last beaches, Heather found a fairly clean seal carcass on the beach (only a couple chunks of jerky left on the head), so we had the idea of mounting it to the front of the car, just like the Texan tycoons do with longhorn racks up in Texas. So, I did a fair job of whipping the complete skull to the brush guard and got quite a number of comments about it. And, wouldn't you know, last night someone stoleded it. Doh! Next stop... Scorpion Bay!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Next stop....... Scorpion Bay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!... doood the Scorps!!!!!!!! Blackout! duh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh, la la blah blah blah blackout duh nuh nuh nuh nuh, nuh nuh nuh!!!!!!!! Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.


October 18, 2005, 11:05 PM:


So..... the swell dropped. Dead. Dead to the world. Waves like,..., very little ones. Like very small rocks, only waves. We've been driving since the perfect waves, in search of more perfect waves. It's been beautiful, but I guess I'm jonesing a little. I'm currently on a ferry crossing the Sea of Cortes over to mainland Mexico with a little man named Ricardo asking me fifty thousand questions. My spanish is so totally rudimentary that I find myself saying yes to a lot of leading questions. He has my calculator and is pretending to type on the calculator. Here's a picture of him and his brother's and sister's. Ricardo's the one in the white shirt.



We are six hours into a fifteen hour ferry trip, and I'm starting to get punchy. I'm trying hard not to get impatient with the little bugger sitting next to me. He just moved over to Heather, who doesn't know a lick of spanish, and starting asking her questions. His little sister's name is Angelica, the one to the left of heather. We had a great time watching The Incredibles together. Probably the best conversation I've had with anyone to date on this trip was with her. During the movie, we'd periodically push on the seat cushion that separated us and make different pinging, poinging, & boinging sounds. Mimicry seems to be the sincerest form of flattery. Sometimes I wonder why kids gravitate toward me. Maybe it's the pinging, poinging, & boinging. I think Ricardo wants me to count to a thousand with him. I said no. Ruby is on the back deck, the only place they will allow her. We slept out on the back deck on concrete benches with Ruby. Throughout the night we were woken up by... Ricardo and his brother Christian! Best sleep I've had since working two straight weeks on a halibut boat with two one hour catnaps a day.


October 25, 2005, 11:00 PM:


We're in San Cristobal de las casas, the capital of the state of Chiapas, and the home of the Zapatista rebel stronghold. The elevation is around 6,500' and it's a bit nipply. The drive has been grueling. I had no idea mexico is such a big country. I've never taken interest in the place, but looking back, I could stay her for another couple months, just to make the trip not just a drive. I got in the water at Rio Nexpa, a left point / rivermouth break. For the set waves being double overhead (12 - 15' wave faces), it's not so scary since they peel very consistently and are manageable, although I only caught one, and that was a drop into the pit... and that was it. I get intimidated by big, strong surf. So, we drive & drive, drove to Puerto Escondido to watch guys surf the Mexican Pipeline. It is an incredible wave. While we were there we saw two guys walk by the restaurant we were eating at with snapped boards. I won't be ready for surf like that for awhile.


The other night we got caught driving at night, a big no-no. For one, people walk & ride their bikes on the road since there's no shoulder, no sidewalks, and no trails. Second, there are cows, horses, and donkeys (our personal favorite; they like dried mango) who also like walking on the road. Third, the semi tractor and bus drivers are f'ing insane. So, all of a sudden, we see a bunch of people on the road waving at the cars driving into the next corner to slow down. We -  of course accelerate.... No, we slow down, and as we round the corner, we see a bus off the side of the road with the front end partially smooshed, and a taxi mini van in the middle of the road with the front end and the front half of the drivers seat - gone. We didn't see the bodies or the ambulance, but of course it seriously scared us. Not more than three corners later, I hear from Heather "oh gosh," (which I need to interpret in the future as some sort of large animal), and bing!, there's a horse looking at me. Luckily, I installed a cow / large animal tripper on the front of my little air bag immaturely deploying douche bag of a Honda, and in my quick thinking quickly turned the wheels so's to clip the dray beast at an angle, so we only sustained minor damage to the paint finish, and the horse only broke two legs instead of all four. Fortunate are we!


By far the coolest animal on the road is the tarantula. We've seen about ten of them to date. Here's a picture of the first, apparently a female by the size. The light colored stones are between 13 - 17 inches in diameter for scale reference. We've killed only four of them, though their size makes them easy to maneuver around. A toad met the bumper right after the horse. I still think about the little one I knew for such a brief time. And then today a bird hit the windshield. We thought it might have gotten stuck up on top. I'm afraid that all these dead animals are going to start visiting me in my dreams.


It's shocking to think that I can get a better cup of coffee at a greasy spoon diner anywhere in the United States than in some of the better restaurants in Mexico. I've found a few decent cafe's, and I'm really excited for tomorrow morning (there's a really good one just down the street), but they just don't toast the beans enough, so the flavor's always a little thin & bitter. We are now in a place where there have been kidnappings of tourists as recently as 2003, but to date we've had nothing but good experiences with the police and the federales.



October 27, 2005, 1:26 PM:


Off to Pelenque, a first and very cool mayan ruin, though it is written that the darkened hallways smell a bit like tourist pee. Buena suerte that we won't find a Zapatista roadblock en route asking for... everything.




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