Headed Due South with a Big Root Beer in my hand
(...and yet another machine gun pointed at my tires, lol)
So, with a big 'S' indicated on the compass, a big Barq’s Root Beer (from Wendy’s Drive Thru, of course), a brand spankin’ new Mexico registration placard for the ‘Disco’ and an actual radio station that was broadcasting "en Ingles" still blasting on the radio, I was lighting up my tires as I headed out of Heroica Matomoros, through the military checkpoints and finding the highway to Victoria with relative ease, (i.e. I got lost only once...).
Btw, my friends seem to love the scary stories of how dangerous Mexico is, so here's a nice, scary pic of a guy with a big gun to scare the crap out of you! lol
Even if it was a just a crappy Journey tune that I was sick of, even back in the 80's, it was being announced in a language that I was not to hear on the radio for the next few months. Life was pretty good, and I was soaking it all in like you take a big gulp of air before diving into the ocean.
As is often part of our experience, however, el Diablo often has something to say about the best laid plans of mice and men, so to remind me where my place was, he made sure a nice big nail found its way to my front tire and as the radio station faded the LR began to increasingly ‘steer’ to the left and my thick-headed optimism was decisively interrupted. One thing that I made certain to do while I was in San Antonio
So in a simultaneous act of cursing and thanking my good fortune, which is a particularly odd combination, I do admit, I pulled the vehicle in a U-turn onto a very nice concrete slab out in literally the middle of close to nowhere. I say that because I found out that nowhere was just another couple of hours south of there, but the scenery made it worth the trip.
One thing to consider when traveling in areas that are less-than-blessed with infrastructure, which is something that we Norte Americanos definitely take for granted, is the need to be as self-sufficient as is possible. I was now in much less populated part of Mexico US United States
Anyway, I took a significant risk in not packing the basics of a good jack before and now I was in a state of utter relief with the realization of having what was needed for my upcoming effort. That little jack was about to save my fat butt and I swear that I gave it a hug as I unpacked it!
However, my previous fears were again allayed, as is often the case in traveling, because after the tire was changed I packed-up and not 30 seconds after I began driving south again I was passed by one of the ‘green angels’ - particularly ironic in that they are the Mexican government's answer to our AAA, and fully sponsored and very well-equipped.
As I mentioned prior, driving in the remote areas is a bit risky without tools, but in the more traveled routes Mexico has established a large fleet of service trucks (painted white & green) that patrol their highways looking for and assisting stranded tourists with small amounts of gas, water/coolant for overheated engines, help changing tires, and minor mechanical work if needed. In exchange for their help, ‘propina’ or a small tip is expected, and this is quite appropriate considering the value of what is offered; from what I’m told, usually $10 to 20 USD is more than fair compensation. To me, it is a great idea that really adds piece of mind, should anything happen, as they have about a 30 minute to 1 hour maximum interval between patrols. For those who find themselves with the decision to visit the interior of Mexico , this service is a demonstration of Mexico
Here's a map of the routes through Mexico that these guys patrol, which is pretty much the breadth of the country:
In case you're interested, FM3's and such...
I had noted before that the Immigration Officer at Neuvo Laredo was adamant that I get an FM3 if I was going to stay in
For those who are facing this decision, per the Mexican consulate the skinny on an FM3 is as follows: If you are spending a lot of time in
As I approached a small town about an hour south of where I had changed my tire, I came upon the usual array of small tiendas (shops) many of them either devoted to feeding you or fixing your vehicle. I wanted an eatery and a vulcanizadora placed next to each other and it didn’t take long to find exactly that combination. A rickety shack is how I would describe this fellow’s place, really a roadside workshop assembled from whatever lumber could be cobbled-together over the years that could provide shade from the hot sun, a comfortable place for he and his young apprentice to ply his trade, and a reasonably secure place to store his small amount of tools after hours.
Smacking my dead spare hanging-off the back of the LR, he quickly set off to work directing his apprentice to remove the tire and get it separated from the rim, as he himself had probably done literally thousands of times in the past. No surprise that they did not get many of these British mudwagons through their neck of the woods as over-sized lugs were a problem. I offered my 4-way lug wrench and from there on the team dragonaded my little problem; before I could grab my computer bag and request that the new tire be put back onto the front position, they had nearly completely separated the tire from the rim. These guys definitely did NOT get paid by the hour!
The tienda that I had spotted next to the tire shop was a pretty common sight in Mexico, which is actually nothing more that a heavy grill in front, a metal framed canopy over a couple of plastic tables & chairs, with a shelter in the rear where the coolers for drinks are kept in the shade. By coolers, I mean a couple of large plastic ice chests that house large ice blocks that the vendors ingeniously cut long grooves into, placing a glass bottle of coke or sometimes another local favorite What hand you as they open it is something right out of Americana, at least 40 to 50 years old in its presentation, a large, heavy, nearly half-liter sized glass bottle of frosty cold Coca Cola. It was makings of a campy television ad as I took it and thoroughly enjoyed half of it even before I made my food order, which was easy as there were only two things offered, half or a whole chicken, with beans and Mexican style rice. I decided on the half as the Coke did me wonders.
The temp was in the high 80’s and I looked over to see how the guys were progressing; they were already re-mounting the repaired tire on the rim even before my food had arrived. Ordering two more cokes, I made a special delivery over to my two new favorite people, just to say thanks for their help. Apparently that was rare event due to the highly surprised looks I was given, but after my insistence the old fellow smiled and in seconds had downed half of his, much the same as I had done. His apprentice was dustily banging away on the next victim of the road’s infamous debris, nodding as I waved to him.
Roadside Cuisine - Mexico real
(or if you're not dining within 20 ft of a busy thoroughfare, then you have not properly experienced it)
A mainstay of Mexican culture is the simple, yet delicious roasted chicken that is served from one end of the country to the other, and is called ‘pollo al carbon’. Along with it, various beans are slow-cooked in a pot, usually placed onto the same grill next to the chicken being roasted, and rice rounds-out this meal, also cooked in a pot, often nearby the prior. Along with the chicken, chiles, and/or strips of cactus are roasted on the grill, adding an amazing flavor to the meat and I love to pile them onto my tortilla and cover it with the salsa of the house.
Contrary to popular belief, the salsas are more times than not, quite mild, especially when I compare them to what graced the tables of my home city restaurants in Tempe US Mexico
After my second coke, I finished a really nice, albeit picnic-style meal and opened the laptop to do some photo downloads. I must have appeared almost alien to the girl working the tienda tapping away on this thing there along the roadside, or at east provided some comic relief for the day(?). One thing that stuck me particularly was that even there, sitting at a roadside village, out in the middle of the Mexican countryside, I noticed that I had a WiFi network available and it was pretty strong also. Amazing how technology offers little escape, even if separated from the large population centers.
I paid my good hostess for her fine treatment & dinner, which was about 40 pesos with tip (approx $3) and then paid my resident tire expert for his expertise & fine work, which asked for 30 pesos and I responded with a 50 peso note and another ice-cold one. I snapped a quick photo and was on my way yet again, hoping to make Tampico
I was treated to yet more sweeping vistas of the Sierra Madres as the sun set behind them in an even more dramatic landscape. Onward & southward my LR and I flew, to the coast to find the little city by the sea called Tampico.
