Driving to Mexico 1976

Leif Erickson and I both had the illustrious career of factory workers at this point in our lives. I was working at Millhaven Fibres (Millhaven, Ontario) and Leif was at Strathcona Papermill near Napanee. On the few days we were off together, we'd meet and discuss how much we hated our respective jobs. Both of us were heavily into Erich Von Daniiken books. Somehow a plan was formulated to quit our jobs and travel to Mexico in search of Mayan ruins. In November I ordered a new Honda Civic but later canceled it for a used 1970 International Travelall. I purchased it for \\$1250.00. Many preparations were made. I bought \\$9.60 worth of shag rug samples and glued them in the back. My neighbour, Mrs. E. Kandler (the initial does not stand for "Egg" as many of you think) made curtains and helped me install velcro screening for mosquitos. The truck looked very similar to a hearse by the time it was outfitted. Leif bought a camera and sunflower seeds and we were ready. Sometime in March we shared a rare day off so we drove to Toronto and got visas for six months. The clerk stared at our applications and asked, "How do you manage?". The departure date was set for April 6, however rumour had it that there was a large lay-off coming at work so I stayed on until the lay-off came to pass on April 14. Leif quit his job and the adventure began. We both had about \\$820 each. We were rich. I had just had my 20th birthday and was much older and wiser than Leif who would still be a rebellious teenager for another two months.

1970 INTERNATIONAL TRAVELALL - THE EXPLORERS CHOICE

At 5:00 a.m. I phoned Leif. "I regret to inform you that my mother is tagging along with us". I put the phone down and resumed packing while he ranted and raved, screaming, "not your mother…we’ll never get back alive." I tried to calm him down by agreeing with him. Soon we were both screaming.

I drove my mother from Amherstview to pick up Leif in Strathcona. On the way I met my former co-worker, Bruce at a four way stop. He looked at my mother and sneered saying, "I thought you were going to Mexico". "I’m on my way right now", I said, and left him in a cloud of International fumes. Twenty minutes later we arrived at Leif’s. He was still babbling incoherently. We loaded his gear. There were tears in Mrs. Erickson’s eyes as she bade her eldest son goodbye. The clouds above looked like the beginning of a movie.

MY PASSPORT PHOTO

According to my driving companions, from that point until the Mexican border was one long Desmond Bagley book for me. They would have you believe that I read all the way there while they drove. That’s just not true…I also did some eating and drinking. Their story is that they drove day and night non-stop while I read in the back lying on a deflated K-Mart mattress (3.99) on a patchwork of rugs. Apparently they even catered my meals. I was christened Desmond, Leif became Luis and my mother retained her regular name of "Bwana" (which means "Great White Hunter" in Swahili).

Millhaven Mileage 81234. At 9:00 we arrived in Newcastle and got gas (\\$6.10 – mileage 81338). 15 car smashup at Newtonville. Cars were backed up for more than 1 ? miles in opposite lane. Gassed up at Ingersol (\\$8.49 – mileage 81473. Very hot. Leif drove.

Bwana spent .45 on a snack and \\$1.60 on lunch (the moneybags). Leif and I conserved our money and didn’t eat.

Gassed up at Tilbary at 2:40 p.m. (\\$5.25 - mileage 81574). I drove to the U.S. border (just to dispel the myth that is me). Bwana drove to Findlay, Ohio. At 5:30 a.m. got gas (\\$6.15 – mileage 81712) and oil. Passed an area with about 1000 school buses (according to Bwana) at Kenton, Ohio. I printed out a sign and hung it on the driver’s side when no one was looking. It got some friendly results. It said, "Smile At The Driver." Bwana and Luis were puzzled why people kept laughing at them.

We arrived at my cousin’s, the Brownings, at 7:30. We invited ourselves for supper and left at 10:00 p.m. At Franklin we got more gas at 10:35 (gas \\$5.05 - mileage 81836). Leif drove until 1:00 a.m. when we pulled off on a side road near Carrolton and spent the night in the truck.

Leif drove to Shephersville, Kentucky (gas \\$6.00 – mileage 81989). Arrived at Mitchelville, Tenessee at 6:50 a.m. Discovered all rest areas have electrical outlets. Got gas at Kingston Springs (gas \\$7.20 – mileage 82105). Bwana splurged again and had breakfast at Stuckeys spending \\$2.46 and a further \\$1.39 for odds and ends! Leif took a picture of a bearded guy with two mules in the back of his truck towing a miniature covered wagon. The sign on the back said, "Get of my Ass." North of Brownsville, Tenessee we stopped for a drink of water at a rest area. There was a Smokey the Bear style state trooper there. The maple trees had seeds called "gumballs"? At 1:05 p.m. we arrived in Memphis (gas \\$6.36). Bwana splurged yet again for a bathing suit $23.22 and \\$5.75 for film and flash. I drove and as usual got us lost. I somehow got off #40 onto #51 North. It probably happened while Bwana was trying to take a picture of a weird motorbike for two…using Leif’s camera. We bought more gas south of Little Rock (\\$7.90) and then we stopped to watch Bwana eat dinner. She only has \\$464.15 left. We saw an International Harvester Centre near Benton, Arkansas on #30. Stopped At Mount Pleasant, Texas at 9:20 p.m. (gas \\$5.95 - mileage 82690). Leif and I broke down and bought a coke each. There was an M-1 leaning against the wall and the road was carpetted with June bugs. We stopped at the Paradise Inn at 10:30 p.m. Bwana had an \\$0.84 coffee. I had a water. She phoned home. At 1:25 a.m. we stopped in Dallas during an electrical storm (gas \\$7.00 – mileage 82842 – oil \\$1.16). We picked up a hitchhiker in the rain who said his car had been stolen (Perkins from Waco). We dropped him at a service station where some friends picked him up. We rested in the truck waiting for the rain to subside. Bwana and Leif were afraid to let me drive in case I got us lost again. Drove to a washroom north of Waco by an all night beer store and waited out the rest of the storm. We spent a total of \\$41.57 on gas and oil today. Parked the truck under a gas station overhang as the back window leaks. My sleeping bag got wet. Had to move at 6:00 a.m. as cars were coming in for gas. Bwana had the reclyning passenger seat and her parka while Leif and I slept in the back in sleeping bags. According to her notes she was "very comfortable". And that ends any reference I have to her notes.

At the Mexican border I was waiting in line for a passport stamp. A Mexican kid came by with some official looking papers demanding \\$5 U.S. It was a good ploy. I gave it to him and he ran off. Leif still rides me to this very day about the time I was ripped off. I believe it was the highlight of the whole trip for him. To hear Leif tell the tale, you would think that I was the stingiest person alive – the truth is that I plan to be some day, but I will have to wait until after his death.

Back on the road we passed through a desert. Leif made Bwana stop the truck while we ran off into the scrubland to chase a coyote. Bwana yelled after us, "I don’t think that’s such a hot idea, boys." There are few fences down here. Animals roam the highways and plains. Dead horses and cows on the road are a common sight. We had barely finished our coyote chasing when Leif yelled for Bwana to pull over again. Leif leapt from the car so fast we though he was having a big M.R. attack (Monctezuma’s Revenge). Bwana mumbled, "What is that boy doing now." We could see Leif running around in the dunes trying to catch a wild palomino. He returned saying, "I was trying to ride him."


TYPICAL ROADSIDE SCENE	LEIF'S PALOMINO	WILD HORSES COULD DRAG LEIF AWAY

Farther down the road was a bus stop ratty restaurant. We pulled in for our first Mexican meal of the trip. Since Leif did not speak Spanish, he suggested I order for him. The waiter brought him a plain stack of tortillas and a bottle of sangrita. Leif was not amused as he ate his raw tortillas. "What does Sangrita mean?" he asked. "Blood" I replied. We left. I forgot to mention that the headlights on my truck were very powerful and effective. Even on low beam, oncoming cars were always being blinded and flashing their lights angrily. At that point it was always kind of fun to move them to high beam and blow them right off the highway. Today the high beam switch quit working. We tried to get them fixed in Guadalajara at a place suggested by our friend and Canadian Consul, Esteban Vigil. We were unsuccessful.

We decided to stay the night at the Guadalajara Trailer Park. It contained all English speaking world travellers who had seen all of Mexico from hotel room windows. Leif and I left Bwana to sleep. We were lounging around the pool area when three Americans joined us (two old men and a young guy). The old man was a retired high dive expert and was coaching the younger guy. He mentioned Chichenitza, pronouncing it very strangely. Then they all began telling us stories (no doubt from their local chapter of the Liars Club). One of my favourites was the one about watching his friend jump from an airplane. The chute didn’t open and all they found was a jellied

arm. He still has it in a jar on his mantle. However, the one that took the tortilla was about the time he and his wife were eating in a restaurant. When his wife wasn’t looking, a stranger sat down beside him, placed a knife between his legs and demanded money. His wife thought he was an old friend. The American said, "I hear ya, Rube" and gave him the money. Then he told us, "…and I never told my wife to this very day – but I told her the next day." Even to this day, whenever Leif suspects he is hearing a tall tale, he will roll his eyes and mutter under his breath, "I hear ya Rube". Go ahead, test him. He really does say that.

TEQUILA PLANTS

(A GOOD BOOK - "TEQUILA MOCKINGBIRD")

Bwana was still sleeping so we went for a stroll downtown. We decided to skip supper after seeing some fly-enshrouded pigs heads hanging in a restaurant window to entice customers. Instead we played miniature golf. Leif won a free game. I had to threaten the owner to give us a free pass. Then we decided not to play again anyway. We walked back in the dark. The trailer park was closed. It’s a miniature fortress. It was surrounded by high walls with jagged pieces of glass cemented onto the top to keep people out. Apparently they close at 9:00 p.m. It was Leif who finally summoned up enough courage to touch the steel gates to see if they were electrified (I'm unsure why he insisted on grabbing my hand at the same time). Since neither of us fried, we climbed the gates and jumped in. It was then we realized that they might have guard dogs, but we made it safely back to the truck.

ESTEBAN'S LETTER

The following morning we stopped in to see Esteban. He took us on a tour of the Canadian Consulate and introduced us to all his beautiful secretaries. He said he only hired young women as they had "nimble fingers". He had a form typed up for Leif and I to present to any officials that might give us trouble. Translated it stated that we were Canadians on a scientific expedition. We never did use it but it was great insurance.

Bwana was constantly complaining about the places we picked to eat. She was always trying to entice us into restaurants where the price was triple that at home. We usually picked a place with character that would be similar to a ground hog’s den. Today we agreed to let her pick the spot. It was upstairs and expensive. Leif and I only had soup to cut the cost down. Below us, vendors were pedaling the streets with birds in cages stacked 10’ high on bicycles. We left after paying an outrageous sum for our soup.

I found that the police whistle while they work – mostly at us when we turned the wrong way in our rumble wagon. Later we arrived in the town of Ocotlan where I grew up between the ages of 2-7 (after that I didn’t grow up any more). We lived next to the small suburb of Cuitzeo (or Quick Sale as pronounced by our American trailer park friends). News travelled fast and soon Bwana was whisked away by friends. Leif and I were taken to a posh club with Ana Castellanos and her friend. We sat around the pool drinking beer with salt and limes and munching on potato chips. If this were the 1920s, I would have described it as "the cat’s meow".


LUIS AND CHILDREN	LUIS CASTELLANOS	MRS. CASTELLANOS & LUIS


CHOLE, MY CHILDHOOD COOK	BWANA, ANA & LUIS	BLANCA & ANA

Later Bwana, Leif and I went on a tour of the colony where I lived. I took some pictures of the house I grew up in and places I used to play where kids from the other side of the fence used to call me "Davy Canada".


CARDBOARD SLIDING HILL	FRONT OF HOUSE	WHERE MY FIRST DOG IS BURIED


POOL AT HOUSE	HOUSE DRIVEWAY	NEAR THE CLUB

Out of nowhere, the colonel’s son invited Leif & I and Ana's brother, Luis to go horseback riding at his ranch. He was quite wealthy and had a plethora of body guards that followed him around. The house was a huge mansion. Luis and our host went inside to the pool room to play billiards while servants attended to their every need. He commissioned another servant to look after Leif and I. Our new host took us past the dead rabbits hanging up to be cured, and over to the stables. He gave us each a horse and left. We were surrounded by hurdles and jeering soldiers who kept encouraging us to do some jumping. We rode around in the heat until we couldn’t take it anymore. The heat must have affected my reasoning power as I suggested Leif go and get our host and tell him we were through riding. Leif left me holding the reins to both our horses in the noonday sun. There wasn’t a scrap of shade to be found. He never returned…but he came back 2 hours later (Rube). He explained that he was unable to breach the language barrier so he finally gave up and joined in the pool game and sat around drinking cokes all afternoon. That’s the kind of friend I have.

LEIF RIDES THE COLONEL'S HORSE

Later Leif, Bwana and I were invited to Teri Villaruel's house. We were surrounded by several older women that we didn’t know. One of them was a sweet old barrel-shaped grandmother of undetermined age who was sitting directly across from Leif. My mother was carrying on a Spanish conversation and mentioned Leif’s name. Leif perked up, nudged me in the ribs and asked what the topic was. Thinking how kind he was to me earlier, I said, "she’s telling them about your life as a helicopter pilot when you were in Vietnam." Leif, forgetting where he was, gave me the finger. Mrs. Barrel nearly fell off her stool.

Leonor Cortez invited the three of us to a posh adobe restaurant near Lake Chapala. I ordered quesadillas (rich cheese filled tortillas) for Leif and I. The waiter brought us whitefish. I hate fish but what can you do?


THE GANG'S ALL HERE	THE HEARSE AT LAKE CHAPALA	MY MOTHER & FRIENDS

Let's see...the people in the picture above are, from left to right, Marguerita Villaruel, ____, la senora Villaruel, Denise Workman (furthest back), Velia Cortez, Teri Villaruel, Leonor Amaro de Cortez.

We popped over to Leonor’s house at El Fuerte (the fort) which is a castle-like structure. She doubles as the resident millionaire. Here I was offered many cokes as usual. In Mexico you can easily offend people by refusing their hospitality. I can only drink ? a coke. Leif is good for 1 ? so in that way we complement each other. ("Nice nose, Leif". "Thanks Dave, nice adams apple"). Even with Leif taking up the slack in my cokes, I was still becoming very waterlogged. We spent the night at Teri’s.


LEIF LURKS IN THE BACKGROUND	EL FUERTE	VIEW FROM TERI'S HOUSE

The following morning I decided to drop in on my childhood friend, Beto Castellanos. I showed up unannounced at the door and spoke to his mother. She looked shocked and began crying. Apparently Beto died several years ago. The start of a pleasant day. We left my childhood village of Cuitzeo and returned to Guadalajara to do some shopping. Esteban directed me to a saddle shop. I bought one for \\$62.00 and later sold it at home for \\$125.00. I had to carry it around with us slung over my shoulder all day. I felt like John Wayne in one of his movies. A cartoonist insisted on drawing the three of us while we ate. Apparently we were excellent subjects. Bwana was not amused that he drew whiskers on her chin. I was portrayed smoking and holding a beer…that would be the anti-Dave. We left Guadalajara and went westward


BWANA & LEIF GUZZLING BEER	THE ARTIST & SUBJECT	FINISHED CARTOON

As usual, we were nowhere – literally, physically, and mentally on a mountainous road. Below us on the side of the mountain was a brightly coloured shrine built into the rocks. Leif and I had always wanted to examine one up close, so we screeched to a stop and left Bwana parked precariously on the road. The shrines generally are built to honour someone who didn’t quite make the last curve. To get there, Leif and I scrambled down a small trail until we came to a dry creek bed with very high banks. We were following this to our goal when we heard a dull thundering sound coming from the distance were we could also see a cloud of dust forming. We continued on, giving each other a puzzled look as the rumbling became louder. Suddenly a herd of 7-8 wild pigs came stampeding around the corner following the creek bed. We were directly in their path with nowhere to go. Already I could see the headlines – "Mexico: Canadian skinnymen mysteriously found trampled and gored in creek bed." Right away, I knew that was not the way I wanted my life to end. I made sure Leif was in agreement then we scrambled for our lives up the high banks and barely escaped. It had been a close call. We continued on to our shrine but it was anticlimactic and no mention of it was made again in my notes.


ONE OF OUR MANY DETOURS	THE BRIDGE WAS OUT

Minutes later, we were rumbling down the road again. We rented a room at Manzanillo on the west coast. Bwana suggested Leif and I carry the suitcases up the zigzagging 30 flights up the sided of the mountain to our room. It was a million six in the shade. We died, but we got all our gear up to the top. It was then we realized there was a road right to our room. We ate at another ratty restaurant. Against our better advice, Bwana insisted on having some coconuts. We didn’t want her to get sick but she wouldn’t listen.

The following day, we pushed on again. That evening we pulled into nowhere at a small store and got our quota of 3 cokes for our break. As we climbed back into the truck, the rowdy bar across the street closed and everyone poured out. The storekeeper quickly doused his lights and locked the door. Outside on a bench was a sleeping peon. A large drunk appeared wearing a Hoss Cartwright hat, crossed bullet vest and dual guns. Everyone kept their distance. He staggered over to the sleeping peon and began to beat him up. A wiser man than myself might have thought it prudent to leave at that point. However, I was enjoying the show…until he strolled over to my window. He leaned in and inquired if Leif and I would care to sell our jean jackets. We certainly did not, as we had worked for years on their fading patterns. Our refusal seemed to upset him. He argued with us, then, while he fingered his guns, he demanded that we drive him to the next town. Without even knowing where he was headed, I told him we weren’t going in that direction. He now began swearing at us yelling something that sounded like "chicken how". When he wasn’t looking, I slipped the gears into first. I had my hand on the ignition ready to fire up the beast at the first hint of trouble (which had actually been 20 minutes ago). I had a simple plan…I was going to simultaneously hit the starter, open the door and knock him down while squealing away. It called for perfect timing. Luckily for both of us, he yelled "chicken how" several hundred more times, then sauntered away. The setting was very much like a Clint Eastwood western. Bwana and Leif were in such a hurry to leave, they wouldn’t even let me cash in our bottles!

That night we slept in my truck at an abandoned garage. The children were nestled all snug in the back of a many coloured, rugged, International Travelall. Suddenly, Bwana was up saying she wasn’t feeling well. Leif and I winked at each other saying "we told you not to eat the coconuts" as Bwana ran out into the darkness. Mexico is a lot like women’s nylons – no matter how careful are, you can still get runs. A few minutes later we heard her screaming for help. We glanced out the window in time to see her with her pants around her ankles running for the car with a mad cow hot on her heels. Leif and I laughed each other to sleep. It took most of the night.

The next morning we pulled into a trailer park with a pool just outside of Puerta Vallarta. Bwana was still sick so we left her in the sun in the back of my truck. There was no shade anywhere. As she said later and for the rest of her life, "you guys are all heart." Geez, we told her not to eat the coconuts. Leif and I had a coke and then walked a mile to town. We nearly died it was so hot. Had another coke and walked out on the beach. We were in rags and very tanned so it was natural that some tourists mistook us for natives and asked us for directions to some place we had never heard of. In keeping with traditional Mexican customs, Leif and I replied in unison, "no entiendo Ingles" and walked away ("we don’t speak English"). Another guy came over and opened up his trenchcoat to display everything from watches to pots and pans. He pestered us and tried to get Leif to buy a ring for his "novia" (girlfriend). We left and walked downtown to the market. There were no good deals – i.e. something cheap that we needed.

This was Leif’s year of the horse for he soon had us shelling out pesos for two nags whose youth had slipped away many years ago. We had to wait while a blacksmith fashioned them a new set of shoes. Our horses were thirsty but apparently the way to ensure that they would return, was to not allow them to drink. This also made them reluctant to leave. We had to taunt them all the way up the cobblestone streets. My steed developed a distinct dislike for me and Leif’s mount. When he wasn’t busy biting me, he was nipping at Leif’s horse. This would make Leif’s horse rear up and whinny at which point Leif would yell "El Touristo rides again!!" After the ninth time, Leif insisted I was doing it on purpose…perhaps I was. Eventually we left town and entered a mountain trail. We crossed a stream were some natives were washing their clothes and bathing. The women were surprised to see us and got dressed rather hastily. "How do, Ladies" said Leif tipping his hat. As instructed, we kept our horses from drinking and turned to head back. Knowing of the water that awaited them, they turned into galloping steeds. It was downhill all the way and all our threats wouldn’t slow them down. We screamed in pain all the way back to the water trough. I’m sure we arrived in record time. To this day, I’ve never heard Leif mention horseback riding again.


DR. LEAKEY, I PRESUME	CAN YOU SPOT THE HORSE'S ASS?

We limped back to the beach. Much to Leif’s horror, I spotted some parasail rentals. For the sum of \\$10.00 U.S. I could go up in a parachute towed by a speedboat. Sounded like a deal to me. In Spanish, it was explained to me how to land – just pull the red cord when the instructor blows the whistle. What could be easier? Minutes later, I was 500’ up in the air drifting lazily over the ocean. It was a good view. At one point, I think I spotted Bwana groaning in the back of my truck. Twenty minutes later my ride was over and I was taken back to the beach to hover over the palm frond concession stands. The whistle blew and I pulled the red

cord. What I didn’t realize was that there were two red cords. Naturally, I pulled the one that made me drop like a lead balloon. There was a lot of activity below with various people running after me and blowing whistles and yelling things in Spanish. I nearly wiped out several beach huts. Three whistlers ran after me and caught me between them. They were red in the face. While they yelled and screamed at me, I said to Leif, "That was excellent…you’ve got to try it!!" Leif rolled his eyes and ran away. We returned to the truck. "Did you see me fly by?" I asked enthusiastically. Bwana just moaned.

The next morning we had a farewell breakfast at the Holiday Inn to appease Bwana. "I see they have coconuts on the menu" said Leif innocently. Bwana glared at him. The prices were outrageous. We stuck Bwana on a plane and she groaned her way back to Canada. Leif and I decided to get a sunset picture at the beach. We walked about 2 miles along the shore before finding a good spot. The sun was rapidly sinking. I went first and stuck my camera on the only tripod we brought. I composed and took my shot. Leif was yelling at me to hurry. My camera was jammed on the tripod and wouldn’t come off. The sun disappeared over the horizon as we wrestled with the mechanism. It took me no time at all to get back to the truck…with Leif chasing me all the way.


MY GREAT SUNSET PICTURE		TOO BAD LEIF DIDN'T GET ONE

We left Puerto Vallarta and passed through the village of Jacona. Leif muttered, "Little Jacona, sat in a conah" and from that point on our humour changed dramatically, probably not for the better. We didn’t stop laughing until…well, I guess we never did stop laughing until this very day – but we stopped the next day (from the Book of Rube, Chapter 6).

The old cornbinder was pinging along on Pemex gas. Leif was driving. He pulled out to pass a truck load of peons who were hanging out everywhere. We were on a steep incline with the top of the rise about 500 yards away. Normally we could pass anything in that distance but the truck was not fine-tuned for Mexi-gas. We were about ? way past when a police car leapt over the hill towards us. There is no such thing as a road shoulder down here. You’re either on the road or dead. Leif stomped on the accelerator and we pinged ahead. I could see the look of fear on the cops face just before Leif pulled in at more than the last second. It was so close that we didn’t make it but only survived by entering into the twilight zone. Behind us was a truck load of fist-waving peons. The policeman never came after us. No doubt he realized we had the fastest car in all of Mexico.

It was always amusing to see the brand names of cars. My favourite was the Dodge Charger, which down here was billed as "Super Bee 500". Apparently the Chevy Nova was never a huge success due to a mistake in the marketing division…"No Va" in Spanish translates as "Doesn't Go".

MURAL AT TEOTIHUACAN

Eventually we arrived in Mexico City. We had to see the ruins of Teotihuacan…but first things first – we had to get lost. Leif spotted a business man with a briefcase walking along the sidewalk. We offered him a ride in exchange for information. He climbed in tripping over Abernathy, a horse head skull I’d picked up in the desert. This seemed to amuse him. It was a good trade which got us to our destination. As soon as we alit from the truck, a young boy tried to trade us a jade sculpture for our jean jackets. We didn’t give them at gun-point so we weren’t about to give them up to this kid. We escaped and climbed the Pyramid of the Sun. It seemed to take forever to get to the top…and there was the same kid pestering us again. We ran everywhere and saw it all in under 2 hours (not recommended). The ruins left us both impressed.


PYRAMID OF THE SUN & MOON	VIEW FROM THE TOP	OVERVIEW


LOOKING DOWN	LOTS OF STEPS	TWO TOURISTS


OVERVIEW	DETAIL	DETAIL ON PYRAMID

CONTINUE ON TO PART II

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