South of the Border

Hello again friends – I’m just getting back from several days of blessedly slow internet access down in Mexico, so I couldn’t post much.  Also, beach + pins coladas = lazy!

When we last spoke, the Iron Donkey was rolling out of Santa Fe, en route to Phoenix – home of my wildly beloved college roommate, Andrea.  I wouldn’t brave 114 degree temperatures for just anyone (no, I’m not exaggerating), so believe me – there is serious love there!  We realized during this trip that we’ve been friends for 30 years – and though our visits are far less frequent than they should be, my Dude occupies a very special place en mi corazon.

Now Andrea is no fool – so she busted us right out of the sweltering hell of her desert homeland, and took us down to Puerto Penasco, where we spent three glorious days at her beachfront condo.  Minutes after we arrived, we were lounging on her balcony with micheladas in our hands, effectively erasing all traces of stress wrought by our 3000 miles of travel over the past week. 

While we were taking in the sea breeze, J&Z were getting to know Andrea’s kids, Kai and Luc. By the time our glasses were empty, they had forged a friendship – laughing and joking like they’d grown up together, hatching conspiracies and making plans for the days to come.  And of course dabbing.

Kids thrown together by the vagaries of their parents’ friendships usually make the best of things, but this was much more genuine, and very cool.

Soon after our arrival, we made Jack’s dreams come true by going out for Mexican food…in Mexico!  Being a self-proclaimed Mexivore, eating tacos at a streetside restaurant in Puerto Penasco fulfilled many of his life’s ambitions.  Between that and our local beachfront fruit vendor, he was the happiest lad.

We spent the next day meandering from beach to pool and back again. 

Our most daring escapade was an evening trip to Wrecked at the Reef, the local pirate bar.  Here we enjoyed many of the authentic pleasures of pirate life, including margaritas, burgers, white dudes playing Jimmy Buffet covers, and beach volleyball – which many people do not realize is actually the traditional sport of pirates.

Also, amazing sunset.

The next day, we pallid easterners found ourselves a bit sun-addled and crispy around the edges.  We decided to limit our forays into the sun to a few strategic transportainment activities, cowering in the shade and slathering ourselves with sunblock in between.  First we enjoyed a group adventure on the banana boat – an inflatable catamaran towed at high velocity behind a speedboat.

Later we channeled our inner James Bond and rented jet skis – with the kids driving, this gave the grownups a taste of previously unimagined terror.

But wait – as the day waned, we realized that it was the Fourth of July!  Thrilled to escape from the USA for our first Trump-era Independence Day, we decided to do it up big.  Zoe and I looked spectacular in our matching stars and stripes shirts.

Andrea and I made a foray into town for food, and ended up spending literally every penny we had buying fireworks out of a pickup truck from a guy named Jesus.  After dinner, we headed down to the beach for our own pyrotechnic spectacular – which ended up being, well, not so very spectacular.  Oh, Jesus...  But lighting stuff on fire is always fun, and twice as much when there are explosions, so we had a great time.  Plus there were marshmallows, so really life was perfect.

The next day we were a little beached out, so we headed out to the dunes to drive quad bikes.  Eleven year olds operating motorized off-road vehicles – what could go wrong?  I have a secret confession to make:  IT WAS SUPER FUN!!!

Afterward we cleaned up and headed back to Phoenix for an RV party.  There ain’t no party like an RV party, you know.  

But with tears in our eyes, we eventually had to dislodge the Garcia Boltz boys and roll on down the road.

Miles:  3481

States:  12 (plus Mexico)

Context-free QOTD:  Did you learn how to build fires at Tea Party camp?