Sarah the dog. 5/1/95-6/15/07. Rest in peace, my beloved companion.

(Back in Kansas. I babysat my new niece, Cailey Elizabeth, for a couple of hours this afternoon while my brother Tom and sister-in-law Lori took a well-deserved break. She arrived dressed this way, I swear.)

(Some dinosaur horseplay at the Petrified Forest, Painted Desert and Dinosaur Museum.)

(Had it not been just after lunchtime, I swear I would have booked myself a wigwam for the night. The vintage cars parked outside are inoperable but a touch of genius.)

(Our lunch stop in Holbrook, Arizona. In addition to having an excellent Mexican plate, I touched the place in the guest register where Matthew McConaughey signed.)

(Sarah hunting rabbits. This is the mascot for the Jackrabbit Trading Post near Joseph City, Arizona.)

(The meteor crater east of Flagstaff. It is a mile wide, 600 feet deep and was created 22,000 years ago.)

(I screamed like a girl when I saw this piece of discarded hose while walking Sarah.)

(Once a Route 66 highlight, the Twin Arrows Trading Post and Cafe shut it doors some time ago and is in a state of decay. The gasoline sign still reads $1.36 per gallon.)

We did not make good time today because I insisted on stopping at every roadside oddity between the Grand Canyon and Albuquerque. The photos tell the tale.

(Seen in a shop window in Ensenada.)

(!)

(Bob, Don and me and a couple of hombres outside of a Cuban cigar shop.)

(Looking down on La Bufadora.)

(The spray from La Bufadora, 30 stories up.)

(Sarah was very offended.)

(Bottom up view of the chandelier in the convention center in Ensenada.)

(Top down view of a barrel cactus.)

(The Baja desert. To the right is a cardon cactus, related to the saguaro of our Southwest.)

(The pitaya dulce or "organ pipe" cactus.)

(In the center is a cirio (named for its resembance to an upside down carrot) or "boojum tree", which is only found in Baja and the Sonoran desert. To the left and right are elephant trees with white barks.)

(A beautiful hotel in Loreto.)

(The mama osprey made a lot of noise and displayed when I approached her nest. She had three young. These perches were built using government funds after the osprey population dwindled. Seems they like to build nests on high-wire poles (and get fried) or on rooftops (and get shot).)

(I was not exaggerating about the roadside burros.)

(Mama grey whale and baby. After showing off around the boats for a while the mamas seem to say enough already and off they go.)

(Here is a mama grey whale from our excursion. In addition to being covered with barnacles, whales carry lice--more like miniature crabs than the human variety. Did I mention I got to touch a baby?)

(Our concert by Dos Generaciones in Loreto. The campsite was quite small and required precise maneuvers for all of us to get in. Nonetheless we had a great time. I also stocked up on lemons from a loaded tree in the campsite. Sidecars flowed plentifully for the next several days.)

Well crap. Sorry it has been so long since my last update. Tonight we are camped in Williams, Arizona, very near the Grand Canyon and on old Route 66. It is 29 degrees and there is snow on the ground. What a contrast from several days ago in Cabo.

So last time we spoke I was getting chummy with the whales of Guerrero Negro and spying osprey. In the meanwhile I have been fighting with my computer and spent several hours in an Internet cafe trying to get the last post to come through. Thankfully it did.

We departed Guerrero Negro on Friday morning for Catavina, a stop in the high desert of Baja California. It was our fourth day of dry camping (no water, no electricity, no nothing). Despite the lack of ameneties, we circled our trailers around a couple of mesquite trees in the middle of the campground and had a blast. I played and lost my first ever game of bocce ball teamed with Bev, another of the Canadians. George of Texas and Ted, Bev's husband, trailed us miserably in the early going but staged a valiant comeback after Bev and I got cocky. In addition there was a game called Arizona Gold, which involves two stands made of PVC pipe, two sets of golf balls joined with string, and precise hand-eye control. I avoided that one, having played earlier on the trip and discovering it was not my forte.

The group put together a spread of appetizers at about 4 p.m. that served as dinner, and the drinks flowed freely. By nightfall we joined around a campfire, told incredibly dirty jokes, and (thank you Chris) made a delicacy called "pudgy pies." My peanut butter and jelly version was a big hit.

I awoke early and hiked off into the desert to take some photographs of the many cactuses (I am not snooty enough to type cacti) that grow here. I startled a local variety of jackrabbit, which has a black rump and ears, and briefly lost my bearings. (Bobby? Cindy?)

We drove for what seemed an eternity to Ensenada, our last stop before crossing over the border. We stayed at an unbelievably nice camp with hot showers, a heated swimming pool, tennis courts, and right on the bay. Also the first time we had seen grass in several weeks. Grass must preserve the doggie smells better than sand and grit, and Sarah was in heaven.

I experienced my first accident of the trip going into the park when I backed over a water spigot and started off a geyser. After getting thoroughly soaked trying to trim and jam a cork in it, I finally listened to Grandma's advice and used a rag and one of Bob's ground spikes, which resolved the problem immediately.

We had an tour of the city the following day. We first visited the local convention center, which has experienced many lives--first as a private home, then as a casino, then abandoned, then as a government building, and now open for public use. It houses the bar that invented the margarita in 1948, named after Margarita King, the woman who owned the casino and was later screwed out of it by her lawyer husband. (I'm only stating the facts.) There was a regatta in the bay and she enlisted her bartender to create something special for the sailors, and the margarita was born.

We also traveled to La Bufadora, one of the three largest blowholes in the world. Being afraid of heights I couldn't really enjoy the view from 30 stories up down to the ocean, but I did get some shaky pictures and quickly moved on for some fantastic shopping in the flea market nearby. In addition to making some good buys I watched a local artist working who painted landscape scenes entirely with her fingers and ate my fill of shrimp tacos for the umpteenth time on the trip. On the way back we stopped at an olive stand olives and olive oil, and at another stand for corn cocktails, a spicy local delight that I only enjoyed going down.

The following morning I had to take a very itchy Sarah for a bath. I could find no fleas, but dirt, saltwater and the dry air have made her a mess. (Postscript: she is fine now.) Later Grandma and I joined Bob and Mary Lou, Don and Patricia, and Dick Kelly (called Kelly) and Jackie of Nevada for some more shopping in downtown Ensenada. We arrived back in time for our last driver's meeting and for our farewell dinner, an affair during which I spent most of my time teary eyed. This trip has had an element of summer camp about it. A short time in relative terms, but the exposure to one another has been intense, and we have forged friendships that I hope will be lasting.

The following morning, after a couple hours of nervous waiting in line, we crossed the border almost without incident. (I did have a plum confiscated.) Afterward we stopped for one last night in El Centro, California, with our travelmates Bob and Mary Lou and Don and Patricia. After an interminable slideshow of Bob's photos, we had a nice dinner with the latter couple's friends who winter there, and I was awake early the following morning to begin our preparations for the trek back. Grandma, Mary Lou, Patricia and I were up early, but Don and Bob took a while, and I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, so we hung around until everyone (Bob) was up.

My previous display of tears was nothing compared to this one. Bob and Mary Lou especially have been our companions on this trip, and Bob has taught me so much about RVing and mechanics. Mary Lou has looked after Grandma and has always brought us little gifts of food and fruit and necessities we were missing. I hope we cross paths again soon.

Today we drove through the beatiful Arizona desert, stopping in Quartzite for lunch. Quartzite is an outpost for snowbirds, and is almost entirely an RV camp. We also passed through military proving ground north of Yuma and saw some strange things in the sky. I dare not report on those otherwise you'll think I'm cuckoo.

Our roads are amazingly wide compared to those in Mexico and I am now trucking along confidently. We hope to be back in Kansas to visit with family by Friday evening or Saturday mid-day to spend time with family. Midweek Sarah and I will make the journey alone back to Seattle. That should give me some good time to adjust and prepare for reentry into the real world, and get my head back on straight. If we encounter anything dramatic I'll send word.

Othewise, this is number 14 (our rig number and CB call name on the trip), over and out.

Love,
Mable, Sarah and Bill.

Hola amigos--

Since signing off last, we have driven from Loreto to Guerrero Negro, a little town on a bay in the Pacific that is famous for its whales. The town itself was built in the 1950s around the salt factory, which is the biggest salt producer in the world. Besides the whales and piles of salt, there is not much here, and our campground is God forsaken.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

On our last night in Loreto we actually had a live concert in camp from a father-son guitar duo appropriately named "Dos Generaciones." Except for their blabby promoter it was really fantastic. They do traditional pieces (Besame Mucho), original compositions, and the odd cover (Stairway to Heaven and The Wall, for instance). I bought a couple of their CDs and really enjoyed the evening.

We were up for an early start the following morning because we had a long 255 miles. That doesn't sound like much unless you have driven the heart-stoppingly narrow Mexico 1 through winding mountains and avoided herds of goats, cattle and burros crossing the road along the way. There was a terrible wreck in the morning that stopped us completely. A truck had lost control on some steep grades and into a ditch. The cab was crushed but the driver made it out alive with only a scratch on his lip and back. The Virgin of Guadalupe is a strong protector.

Last night we had a delicious meal at our campsite of grilled chicken and carne asada. Mario and his wife Sarah are wonderful hosts but I'm afraid their campground has seen better days. There is no water, and there are several broken-down vehicles strewn here and there. The bus that should have taken us to the whale watching expedition this morning stood on blocks, so we took a couple of vans instead, one of which looked to be held together with hairpins.

The whale watching expedition was the highlight of the trip thus far. The bay here is a breeding and baby-rearing ground for about 20,000 grey whales. The mothers and babies stay in the bay (unpopularly named, at least for the local conservationists, "Scammons Lagoon" for the man who found the whales and started the hunting that nearly decimated them). The boys hang out in deeper ocean waters outside the bay where the mating action takes place. Mothers calve every two years and stop in for woo-hoo in the off years.

We departed in three small fishing boats (or "pangas"). My boat was approached by about four mama and baby pairs and a couple of lonely ladies who were killing time before heading off to see the boys. The mothers feed and rear their babies in the calm and shallow waters of the bay, safe from orcas. The mothers do note nurse in the human fashion but rather float near the suface and squirt milk from their mammary glands into the babies mouths. Babies consume an amazing 80 gallons of whale milk per day. By this time of year they have become accustomed to humans and are not shy approaching the boats. In fact, mamas seem proud of their babies and want to show them off. In late April, the pod will migrate to Korea and Japan for their feeding season. It's a 6,000 mile journey, the longest migration of any living creature.

I got to pet one of the babies and Grandma came close very close to falling off the boat trying. One baby found a piece of kelp and played with it by our boat for several minutes. I cannot describe the experience of being so close or the curiosity and trust they showed us. It's something I'll surely never forget.

This afternoon, Mary Lou, Patricia and Don and I headed for a local bird sanctuary where we saw osprey, two different kinds of blue heron, two different kinds of egrets, several species of what we would call ducks, and lots of other sea birds. Earlier on the trip Patricia and I went kayaking when we were camped in Bahia Concepcion and spotted a black-crowned night heron in a mangrove patch, and she and I have been on a bird watching kick ever since. The osprey, a kind of eagle, is populous here and something of a local mascot. Conservationists have built perches for them to nest and raise their young. We saw many with babies in their nests.

Tomorrow we cross back into Baja Norte, the northern state of Baja. Many kinds of vegetables and fruits will be confiscated if we don't eat them up tonight, so I should head back to camp and try to concoct some kind of casserole that contains potatoes, avocados, oranges and grapes, all of which are on the no-no list. I'm sure if I can find a can of Campbell's cream of mushroom I'll be able to figure something out.

Thanks for your hellos. I do miss you all. We'll be crossing back into the U.S. next Wednesday and we plan to take old Route 66 to Oklahoma and then north to Kansas for some time with the family. But that's really getting ahead of myself, the Mexican adventure is not yet over.

Guillermo.

I came back to camp today after my shopping trip to find Grandma under the palapa playing bingo with the other caravaners. She managed to win three pots, which may cover our expenses for the entire trip. I am attributing the good fortune to her hair curlers, which she left in for most of the day.

I am missing you all and feeling a little homesick. If you could post an "hola" in the comments it would be a welcome surprise.

Take care, Bill.

(Possibly the cutest vegetable stand I have ever seen. In Loreto near our campsite.)

(The town square or plaza in Loreto. The mission is in the background.)

(The caravaners joining in the last dance with the troop. Despite the simple steps, El Conejo (the rabbit) dance proved too intricate for me to master. Grandma did a much better job and has been humming the maddening tune ever since.)

(This tree at our beach in Puerto Escondido was loaded with hummingbirds that had migrated south for the winter. There must have been 200 of several different kinds feeding on the flowers. Several of our caravan were divebombed when they approached.)

(El guapo from the folkloric dance troop that performed in Cabo.)

(Stained glass mural in the mission at La Paz.)

(Grandma and me at land's end.)

(Sarah's dream of Baja realized. Here she is on the finest snorkeling beach in Cabo, Santa Maria Bay.) 

(The master glassblower at the Cabo San Lucas glass factory.)

(Our table at the three lobster tail dinner. Grandma, Cheryl (our tailgunner's wife), Mary Lou, Dean (the tailgunner, or "Thumper" as we all call him, because he checks tires by smacking them with a big stick), Bob, me and Phil, our wagonmaster.)

(The smoking gang from the caravan during our lobster dinner. From the left, Helen and Len from Alberta, Grandma, and Frances and George Helmer from Texas. George and Frances went off the road on one of our early travel days when cut off by a white Toyota pick-up. They have recovered nicely. Also note the "Eat my tail" t-shit in the background. )

(Crossing over the Tropic of Cancer. I always meant to read that racy Henry Miller book. Nothing titillating to report from here since crossing over.)

Okay, my friends.

Sorry for the many days with no updates. We have been without Internet access until today in Loreto.

Our stay in Cabo was relaxing. It is a big city that mostly caters to tourists, with prices to match. I spent much of my time snorkeling at two of the local beaches and making a stop at Costco for an American fix. The Cabo Costco parking lot has a view of land's end and the rock arch. Doubtless the best view of any Costco anywhere. Striking to me were the few shoppers, most of whom were tourists, and that the parking lot was half empty. Bulk shopping has not caught on here.

Grandma is all better now. Char, the nurse, stopped to visit us in Cabo and gave her the green light to resume her regular activities. She had been camper-bound for several days and was both going and driving me crazy. Our first activity as a pair was to enjoy a catamaran cruise around land's end. The cruise took half of the group in two tours ,and the earlier bunch spotted whales and dolphins. We weren't so lucky but got a fantastic sunset, delicious food, and some of the couples kicked up their heels to Sinatra and big band. Our oldest couple, Ken and Ailsa from Redding, California, showed everyone up with a lively jitterbug. They have been married for more than 60 years.

The night before we stopped at a restaurant that offered a three lobster tail dinner for $15.95. The waiters wore t-shirts that read "Eat my tail," a slogan that either offended or hopefully went over the heads of many of the caravaners. The tails were small but tender and I finished all three without a problem. The waiter later put on a big table-side show making Mexican coffees, a flaming combination of coffee, cinnamon, lots of Kahlua, and black pepper.

On our second day in Cabo we toured a glass factory. We saw the process from start to finish, and the master glassblower created vases, swans, and a variety of drinking glasses before our eyes. Being the youngest (well, second youngest--Peter and Susan from British Columbia have an adopted Chinese daughter named Sidney who is about three years old and a real performer), I am often singled out as the volunteer, and I got to blow a glass that quickly bubbled and broke. (Now lewd jokes in the comments please.) So much for my souvenir.

On the next day we left early and stopped in Todos Santos for some shopping and lunch. Several of us wanted to spend extra time shoping and left early. Grandma picked up some beautiful flowerpots and we had the best shrimp tacos of the trip.

We stopped next in La Paz, another wonderful village on the Sea of Cortez. Between a half-day tour and a group dinner including a folkloric dance from college performers, there wasn't much time to lie about. Our tour guide Guillermo (my name in Spanish) was a real character, either very knowledgeable on just about any subjects or a convincing bull shitter. We saw some of the local beaches, stopped at a beautiful mission built in the early 1800s (La Paz is a young city by Mexican standards), checked out the public market and a museum of anthropology, and visited two family businesses, one that makes glazed pottery and the other weavers of blankets, ponchos, etc. We were not allowed to take photographs at the pottery business because the family who owns it have had their designs ripped off and are embroiled in a legal dispute. We stopped again at a taco place and I was feeling adventuresome. I ordered tacos of manta ray and smoked marlin (and one shrimp just in case I couldn't eat the others). I enjoyed every one.

From La Paz we drove to Puerto Escondido, a sleepy port town on an inlet filled with sailboats. We stayed only one night and didn't do much. Don and Patricia from Roseburg, Oregon (the very place I bought my truck) invited Bob and Mary Lou and grandma and me over for a dinner of pork loin. They are wonderful hosts and have an elegant motor home.

Since landing in Loreto yesterday Grandma has mostly been consumed with laundry and I have been enlisted to fix nearly everyone in the caravan's computers. Last night we had a great meal and a local steak house called El Nido. Steak and shrimp all around with some of the best bean soup I have ever eaten.

Bob of Bob and Mary Lou put his television out and rigged up speakers and we had movie night. It was "Crash," which I had forgotten contains the f-word about 1,000 times in the first five minutes. The crowd thinned considerably but several of the not-easily-offended stayed until the end.

Today we are going to check out Loreto and stock up on groceries. We are here another day and stop in Guerrero Negro, allegedly the best place in the world for whale watching.

Miss you all, Bill.