`Twas the end of May and time again for another Memorial Day jaunt to Baja. Time for that one last fix before the heat of summer sets into the Baja desert. We had a large contingent heading down this time. Pandro, his bud Marwan, David, Tracy and Sadie Saltzman, Mikey, Cathy and I. At the other camps, Eddie and Donna were present and accounted for. Scotty and Ingrid made their first appearance in many years. Baja Bruce hosted them, and Christine managed to get the week off too. The 4 latter Baja creatures had been there since Tuesday.
Pandro and his crew stopped by to get Cathy and the boat stuff and headed out early Thursday morning. Mike and I cruised after work, and headed toward the border. As Mike would say, no trip to Baja is complete with out something happening...you know, happening, Baja style. It happened sooner rather than later this time. I'm happy to report that morbida is:
at the Mexicali fronteriza. I should have taken Kurt Bickel's story to heart. We crossed the border into sunny Mexico and as is usual when driving a big truck, we got the red "REVISION" light, meaning we had to pull in for a secondary inspection by the Policia Federal Fiscal, the Mexican version of Customs. This has never been a problem in the past. They took their look and passed us on our merry way. As you've probably sensed by now, this was going to be the exception.
I sat in the truck and did what comes natural to me...I played dumb. I could see that Mike was having a little talk with the ossifer. This dude, who appeared to be the jefe (chief) spoke little English. He called over his minion, who spoke rather fluently. The discussion centered on Mike's Johnson, the one in the back of the truck, that is.
2nd Dude: No bring into Mexico, is very expensive. You must pay the tax.
me: Well, how much is the tax?
2nd Dude: 25%, how much is cost in US?
me: $300 (I'd buy 1000 20 HP Johnnies for $300!), but I'm not importing it, it's for my barca (boat).
2nd Dude: Where is the boat?
me: It's at my place near Punta Bufeo.
2nd Dude: You have the papers?
me: They're at my casa, with the boat.
2nd Dude: You must pay tax.
me: How much is the tax?
2nd Dude: $90 (his math is different than mine)
me: We don't have $90 and we're not importing it. We are going to bring it back to the US.
2nd Dude: (almost looks like he believes us) No, but we don't know that. You must pay tax.
We stand around for awhile trying to wait him out. I try to talk him out of charging us.
me: $90 is a lot of money, I can't afford to pay $90 every time I come down here. I've been coming here for 10 years with no problema. Let me slide just this one time. I promise I'll bring it back,(I cross my heart).
He just smiles, like a cat playing with a mouse. I figure I might as well try begging. That doesn't work either.
2nd Dude: You don't want to pay tax?
me: hell no I don't want to pay tax, I'm not importing it, I'm bringing it back.
By this time, I figured I may as well try anything corny, so I did?
me: Hey, look at us, we both got jobs, we don't need to sell used motors in Mexico.
Mike could hardly keep a straight face after that one.
The second dude wasn't impressed either.
2nd Dude: You don't want to pay tax?
me: We won't have any money left to spend in Mexico if we pay $90.
2nd Dude: You can leave the motor here.
(Yeah, you guys will take good care of it, right?)
me: Hell, we might as well go home if we don't have a motor. C'mon, give us a break, just this one time.
We just stand around and look stalemated...we were. A half hour has now passed. The jefe comes over and they jabber in Mexican.
jefe: you no want to pay tax, eh? Can you pay $50? (he says with a gleam in his eye)
All of a sudden, I hear the Battle Hymn of the Republic beginning to toll in the background. Vicksburg, Shiloh, Cold Harbor, Appomattox. It's U.S. Grant, resurrected from the grave and coming to the rescue, riding high in the saddle!!
me: (looking him straight in the eye with the look of disdain) yeah, we can afford $50. We knew he had us. Left the stupid papers for Cathy's boat down in Baja, how estupido!
jefe: No, not here, in car. (he points to the cameras overhead.)
We exhume the 26th president and start to hand him over.
jefe: motions to fold it up.
We fold Mr. Grant and high-tail it out of there before they change their minds. My last words to the PFF jefe was that I'd rather give it to them than the government. I'd also rather pay $50 than $90. Next time, I'll register my boat. I haven't registered it since `94, so I guess I'm still ahead.
The windshield was hot to the touch as we rolled across the desert . By the time we arived in San Felipe, about 4:30 or 5:00, the sea breeze was pleasant. We ran the standard drill of going to the liquor store, the ice house, the sub-agencia (beer store) and the Pemex station for gas. We stopped at the market in San Felipe, not wanting to chance the Puertecitos market not having essentials like last time. I got a few Hass avocados, some salsa casera, some salsa Amor, a stack of corn tortillas, a bag full of Key Limes, some rajas de jalapeños, a can of serranos, all for about a buck fifty. What a deal. We didn't stop at Asadero El General, as we'd eaten a burrito from San Diego for lunch.
We headed out from the south Pemex station: destination Puertecitos. Mike was pleasantly surprised as we proceeded down the road, . It was substantially improved over the last time he had traveled on it, one year before. We approached the point where the repaired pavement ended a month and a half previous (see my report on the April trip), before Campo Pulpo. I was delighted to see that it was now fixed. As we made the turn onto the big straightaway leading up to the Campo Christina S-curve, beautiful black asphalt was a sight to behold. We sped up the newly paved section, but about half way up, the potholes appeared abruptly. Oh well, as I've said before, I'll take what I can get, so I am pleased to report that another 3 miles has been completed. Now, if they can get it completed past Campo Christina to the good part of the old road, that would be another milestone. After the end of the old stretch of good road, or is that the good stretch of old road...whatever, the final insulting 5-mile grind into Puertecitos is good warm-up for the Gonzaga road beyond. Funny how this stretch of road seems horribly bad on the way down, but not-so-bad on the way back!
We stopped at the market to air down a little. I took over for the road down to camp. We banged and knocked, knocked and banged for 18 miles to the base of Huerfanito Grade. At the bottom of the grade, the washboard across the flats was a welcome sight. Mikey still has his stock shocks, so we couldn't fly the washboard to fast. I kept it at about 25 mph. It was dark by then. The wind was rather vigorous. At 25, the dust cloud we created blew by us when a good gust kicked-up. We plugged along and before long, we were past the 5 Islas Cafe, the Yorgo turnoff, Campo Los Delfines, and finally the blown-down Conejo Feliz sign appeared. A mile and a half later and we were at camp. As we pulled in at around 9:45, the wind was still vigorous, but the temperature was pleasant...in the low to mid 70s. We unloaded some junk, had a bite of chili to eat, sampled some "Jimmy" (El Jimador tequila), and had a cold beer or two. Everyone else was already there, and in good order. David, Tracy and Sadie were setting up their tent, preparing for a peaceful night in front of the trailer.
We hit the hay. In the middle of the night, rumor has it, the wind kicked up with a passion. It was at least passionate enough to blow the Saltzmans' tent down. Ker-flomp. When I awoke the next morning, it was flatter than a flapjack. As morning wore on, we hustled to get the fleet ready for launching. The day of the quarter moon was upon us, so the tides were as flat as they get down there...about 6 feet. We had to launch at dead high tide and we would have about an hour window. We sent the ships down their ways and into the sea. We had to hop in the water and lift the wheels to get them to float over the rocks, but at this time of the year, it's more of a pleasure than a chore. The water temperature was nice, about 75° I'd say.
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