A Cautionary Tale; De-bugged; Food Worth the (Long) Wait
We pulled out at 8:00 this morning for the drive to Guerrero Negro, which turned out to be somewhat of an adventure. Like yesterday, the road is a narrow twisty affair which demands your constant attention. At the morning briefing Jim, our Wagonmaster, had made a special effort to point out that, in the event a front wheel dropped off the road , not to immediately jerk the steering wheel to the left, as this will only cause you to veer across the road and wind up going off the other side before you could correct the situation.
Unfortunately, this is exactly what happened to one of the big motor coaches towing a car in our caravan. He shied away from a semi coming the other way, which wandered a bit over the yellow line. He wound up doing exactly what Jim had warned not to do, and went airborne over the opposite shoulder, coming down hard in what luckily turned out be soft sand and miraculously staying upright. Our accompanying Green Angel and the tailgunner stayed with him, while the rest of us were told to carry on. A tow truck arrived in 15(!) minutes and had to tow him about a 1/4 mile before he could find a shallow enough slope to get his rig back on the road. Total damage? A bent tow bar and a bunch of empty cupboards inside the rig. No-one was hurt, but the tow car had to be left behind in a compound, which they will pick up when we return through here later on.
The interesting part of this story is that this same guy had a locking pin come out of his tow bar the day before yesterday, and yesterday he steered right to avoid a pickup truck, only to have a highway sign shear off his passenger side mirror. The consensus among many of us is that he is a bit too nervous as a driver to be doing this trip, but we are also, considering how lucky he has been not to have suffered worse consequences, considering pooling our money and sending him to Las Vegas on our behalf!
As we crossed into the southern half of the Baja (a separate state), we were subjected to a military inspection (just a few questions), but I couldn’t help but notice a large sign that said “This is a military inspection point; if you have any complaints or suggestions, please call (insert phone number here)”. I thought a more accurate ending might have been “please call 1-800-wedon’tcare”. One more stop to drive over a grate and have your tires and underbody sprayed with pesticide (paying 20 pesos for the privilege) and we were good to go.
The RV park here is basic to say the least, with a funky electrical supply, so some of us have decided, for the one night we are here, to unplug and operate on propane. It does have what we were told is a restaurant that serves excellent and reasonably-priced seafood. It is owned by Mario, who also owns the trailer park. We were warned that the service would be slow, and the warning was 100% accurate. We sat down with two other couples at about 5:30, and finally left at 8:45. There were about 35 people in the place at any one time, all being served by Mario’s wife, while Mario did the cooking. Add to the mix the fact that she spoke not a word of English (thank God for my Spanish), the fact that in spite of my best linguistic efforts, she somehow missed writing down Jeannine’s order, a thunder and lightning storm with heavy rain outside,and you have the recipe for a very leisurely dinner (which, by the way, was excellent), accompanied by nature’s floor show. All of which tends to indicate that Mario knows much about food, but little about electricity.
Here are a few pictures:
Another “Lost in Translation” moment:
We will be crossing the peninsula tomorrow to the village of Mulege, where we will be spending two nights and distributing some of the school supplies we have all brought with us.