INSIGHTS &  OBSERVATIONS

By Joe Stuver

(Continued from last week)

After wandering over half of central Mexico last year, and getting caught in the nightmare nighttime traffic of Guadalajara, I actually had the route down well for this year's adventure.

The two-lane coastal highway traffic is really slow, with lots of putt-putt 20-mile-per-hour mopeds, or even slower-traveling bicycles, along with ancient farm vehicles. Plus, in Mexico, there are topes (speed bumps) everywhere. They are of different heights; some you rattle over easily, others send you into orbit. Some are actually painted yellow, but others are simply paved over with blacktop. Two years ago I spaced out and nearly went into space, hitting so hard that it broke one of the wheels on my walker.

As I noted in a previous column, driving in Mexico is not for the faint of heart, and you have to keep your head on a swivel at all times.

The drive up the coast to the old port of San Blas is a beautiful one indeed, with the ocean stretching into eternity, and huge waves crashing onto the rocks or beaches below. It gives one a true feeling of puny.

The birds are of plenty, with all colors imaginable. At the top are the brilliant parrots, whose blues and greens are spectacular, but no less spectacular are the birds of the jungle. There are 12 different species of jays alone, one of which is only found in the San Blas area. The tropical kingbird is a work of brightly colored wonder.

The shore and ocean birds are of less brightly colored hues, but are still incredibly beautiful in their sheer grace. At the top of them are the frigates, with twin tail feathers trailing behind. They look like pterodactyls. There are also sea eagles, pelicans and other sea ranging birds, grey hawks, and lots and lots of buzzards. There are no actual sea gulls.

I hit Highway 40, and reversed my course back to the Best Western at Durango, enjoying again not only the tremendous accomplishment of the highway, but also the pure wildness of that beautiful wilderness.

I watched closely the World Health Organization for updates on the COVID, which was slowly spreading at the time, and decided I could stay an extra day in Durango, figuring our government would give a few days notice before closing the border.

As I have written, Mexican motels are fine indeed. A nice room costs around $30 to $35 a night.

I got out into the city to see a couple of old historical landmarks, both cathedrals, one of which had been converted into a museum, The Cathedral of Our Mrs. De Guadalupe. She is the Matron Saint of Mexico.

Construction on both were started in the 16th and 17th centuries. I actually found both, but the museum and its church had a long waiting line, and there was no parking.

I continued on to another huge cathedral, the Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, which was truly magnificent.

It boasted globes, pillars of stone, and then hand-wrought stone walls some 60 feet high, with golden domes rising above it all.

The interior was breathtaking, and again I felt that puny feeling deep in my soul.

I have no idea at its capacity and no idea of its size. Five acres at least.

A few folks were scattered among the old, well worn wooden benches, deep in prayer.

There were spectacular stained glass windows embedded in the wall surrounding the pews. There were deeply rich, colored murals and frescos leading up to the dome; it too was surrounded by stunning glass windows.

The raised pulpit was a thing of great beauty too, made of aged hardwood, gilded with gold and silver.

I gave pause also, reflecting on the years of blood, sweat and tears – and money - that went into constructing that magnificent marvel. I also thought of the millions of prayers that were offered from this place of faith and worship. And yes, I added my own.

I wanted to visit several other museums but my back was giving me fits, so the next day I opted to go north to Chihuahua, for a single night's stay. I did take the time to tour past the old Colonial Government buildings, incredible but fairly covered in black soot.

The next morning I hit the road early for the border, again passing through the terrain, with desert in the south of the state, and cotton fields in the north.

I missed the turnoff to the border, and wandered around South Juarez for an hour or so before I got on the right track. As I was stuck in line, three young Mexicans spent about three seconds cleaning my headlights, and demanded $50. Yeah, right. I gave them about 20 pesos, as they cast unfriendly eyes at me as they disappeared into the crowd.

I expected to sail through the border crossing. The first two years, when I had short hair, I cruised through with friendly visits with the guards. Last year, my first in a pony-tail, the guard was nasty and aggressive, and sorted through everything.

This year, the guard was downright hostile. I had expected questions about coronavirus, but he demanded to know where I was staying. I replied that a friend had rented me her home. Things went downhill further, and quickly, as he marked me for secondary inspection. He was sure I was carrying a load of drugs.

I then drove through their x-ray; after which they simply waved me through.

Dang.

I remembered years ago, when I had long hair, and hitched from Billings to Missoula. It took two days. There, I got my hair cut, and headed back. I was home mid-afternoon, after having spent no longer than a few minutes at my two stops. The first stop I was on the exit from Warm Springs, and expected to spend an eternity there. But a young couple passed and I met the girls' eyes; they picked me up and placed me in the back seat, with a newborn baby.

The irony is not lost on me.

I stayed in El Paso, and then continued my journey north to Colorado. I would have loved to spend a few days exploring our historical southwest, but by this time I was ready for my own bed.

Last year, my heart began to sink as I turned north from Gillette, and found my home country still buried in several feet of snow, after one of the worst winters in our own history of mean winters.

I was truly grateful this year, until I watched the world news...