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That thing can wait. Thursday, 1100 hours. I set out, alone, towards Mexico, trailering my little boat behind me. Pam can guard the spa enclosure from any illegal immigrants of the rodent persuasion for a couple of days. Excellent time of day to be headed West on Arizona 86, as there were very few drivers I had to contend with, or who had to contend with me. I passed one of my favorite saguaros, one half-mile West of mm 82. DSC02390 Rolling through the international border, there was no one on the US side to ask me if I was carrying $10,000.00 dollars, weaponry or ammunition, so I slowly drove into Mexico. Red buzzer time! It looked like everyone was getting the brief inspection by the Mexican border guards. Okay. The man wanted to see my boat registration. It’s on the boat, but for some reason, I thought I’d have a look in the truck’s glove compartment. Paper filled the cab of the truck, but no joy. Jam it all back in there. Found it inside the boat, where it’s required to be, and satisfied the man. As I was buttoning her back up, I noticed the guards were enjoying a little lunch, so I casually mentioned that the comida looked good. One of them replied “Gusto” and waved me over, offering me one of the pork bolle sandwiches that were laid out on a table. Nice people! DSC02848 They wouldn’t allow me to photograph their faces, nor would they accept a beer, or even a few dollars. The generosity washed over me. I’m back in Mexico! IMG_0922  The big roadwork that’s been going on had extended to the marina, and I felt that four wheel drive might be necessary just to get through the gate. DSC02853 That shot was taken the next morning, after some grading work was done. DSC02854 It’s an inconvenience, yes, and everyone complains that the work happens so slowly, and they’re right. But here’s one of their new roads, just around the corner. DSC02860 That photo was taken as I drove around the small port to look at some sailboats. I know, I’m living dangerously. DSC02865 DSC02870 DSC02875 DSC02873 DSC02867 ketch in RP That last ketch is a Challenger 38 or 40, vintage unknown, and it’s for sale. The gentleman who told me this said that he’d contact the owner for me, and put us in touch with each other. I gave him my name and home phone number. Pretty darned exciting. Besides all of this, I was able to see people I hadn’t seen in 7+ months, get a few names wrong, a few right, dine at The Blue Marlin, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. But I did not sail. I had to be back for a skydiving to-do on Saturday. John+Wilsey

Been there, done that, got the tee shirt.


Blue skies, John. Thanks for the jumps.


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