What a day.
We left our last Mexican campground early this morning.
So far so good.
About an hour later we found we had a flat tire. An inside rear tire. Not a big deal, but it would be way easier to get it fixed in Mexico so we quickly pulled off at a llantera. These small tire repair places line the roads from Mexico to the southern tip of South America. You are never far from getting a flat fixed.
We pulled up, and found a lady outside raking the dirt. She called inside and a few minutes later an unhappy looking man came out. Obviously, he’d been awakened by our nine o’clock arrival. He began working on the tire, but he did so in painfully slow fits and starts. It took ages to get the bus jacked up. About the time he got the bus jacked, a normal tire repair guy in Mexico would have been done with the entire project—thirty minutes.
Around this time he turned around and realized that the lady who had been raking dirt had also washed his car with water, but not dried it. He went off on an extraordinary rant, cussing, kicking dirt, and showing her, while cussing her out, just how to dry a car. It looked very much like how a pimp would treat one of his girls. Just saying.
He got a few lug nuts off, then disappeared for tacos.
He finally got the last two off, then yelled for a coffee.
He got the tire off, then spent half an hour getting it off the rim.
He got the tube out, and we found that the replacement tube I had didn’t have an extended nozzle, so instead of that we had to repair the one with the hole.
Make that holes. Thorns from the trees, he said.
This whole time Ali and the kids had been sitting up on the shoulder of the highway watching, and as you can imagine, Ali was losing her patience just a bit. It didn’t help that on the way there when she had called this a disaster, I had corrected her by calling it a simple inconvenience.
She was right, it was a disaster.
Nearly three hours later we were back on the road.
We found and crossed the border without incident. Customs took our apples and eggs, and didn’t so much as ask us another question. We usually get grilled up and down about just what the hell our story is, but this time, nothing.
We stopped off for lunch, groceries, and gas. My god, the gas. In Mexico the government sets the price of gas, and they haven’t budged in a couple of years. It’s gotten slightly cheaper thanks to the exchange rate, but gas is still over $3.00 a gallon there. To fill up for $1.45 was like being transported back to 1966. Maybe not quite, but it felt like it.
Ali ran into the grocery store alone and came back saying, “It’s like a candy store in there.”
Back on the road our plan was to leave Nogales and head to Tombstone. We’ve never been to Tombstone, and I was ready to correct that.
However, our little tire stop had caused quite a delay in our day. So when we passed into the tiny town of Patagonia we decided to stop. We followed a generic street sign for a campground, didn’t see any other signs, and decided to screw it and keep on going.
About three miles down the road Ali had a change of heart and said she wanted to stop here for the day. So we turned around and decided to search out that campground again. We had also seen a billboard when we were leaving town, so we knew it was there somewhere.
We came back into the small town, and as we did Ali told me to slow down. I’d been distracted looking for signs and had come in a little hot. We made the same turn as the last time, the first turn from this side of town, and thought we’d stop in at the visitor’s center we had seen to ask for directions.
I parked, hopped out of the bus, and was about to cross the street, when I spotted the angry cop behind us marching towards me.
“You the driver of this?”
And so it goes. We’ve all gotten speeding tickets before. It’s always the same drill with the cops.
Okay, 53 in a 35, right in his speed trap at the edge of town. Textbook. I deserve it.
I stood by the side of the bus. Not particularly caring about the ticket. I lost my license once as a teen for too many speeding tickets, but it’s been like twenty years now since my last one. I thought just maybe he’d see that and let me off, but I didn’t hold out much hope.
Then he got out of his truck and walked over to our license plate. And then it dawned on me that this was about to get a lot worse.
Our registration is expired. It’s a long story that has to do with us transferring the plates to our Porsche last summer when we were taking that road trip. Those plates (they had to issue new ones because these were seven years old) never arrived in the mail like they were supposed to, and we’d never followed up on it, nor had we transferred them back to the bus.
I fully admit that this is in large part because I just have very little respect for the law. And I know that sounds bad, but I’m just kind of like, “Eh, whatever, we’ll take care of it when we get back to Minnesota a few months from now.” I know that this attitude comes in large part from me living abroad for so long. My overall attitude now has shifted so far from U.S. normal, that I no longer function very well within the confines of acceptable behavior here. For me, it’s sort of like, as long as what you’re doing isn’t hurting anybody else, you’re fine. That doesn’t work here like it does in Mexico, and most of the rest of the world I choose to travel in.
So it wasn’t with great surprise that two hours after arriving in the United States I had $1,200 worth of tickets. It also wasn’t with great surprise that these tickets would have such ludicrous fines. The registration for this bus is like $40.
The cop told me the bigger problem was that I couldn’t drive the bus with expired registration. Not even with $1,200 worth of tickets in hand. He explained that I’d have to get it taken care of before we could drive it again. It was 4:30. 5:30 in Minnesota. And we both knew that it was ridiculous to think that we’d get this taken care of tonight.
So there we stood, across the street from the Patagonia Welcome Center, discussing what would happen next.
“So, I can’t stay here, and I can’t leave. Are you going to tow me?”
“Maybe.”
“If I somehow magically get this resolved tonight after the DMV has closed, I can leave if I have some sort of e-mail receipt?”
“Yes.”
“But we both know that isn’t going to happen. So after you leave here, and I go get on the internet at that coffee shop over there, and fail to have any luck fixing this, am I going to have trouble at the edge of town when I drive out of here?”
“You shouldn’t.”
And with those two words I had gotten the picture. He couldn’t allow me to drive, but he couldn’t sit around and watch me all night either. So if we left, he wouldn’t stop us.
We went to the coffee shop, and of course we couldn’t do anything.
But instead of bolting out of town we decided to pile back in the bus and drive the one mile down the road to the RV park so we could try the DMV again tomorrow. We’re in the States now—we gotta get in line.
We got to the RV park and our tire was flat.
Goodnight.
24 Comments on “The Welcome Wagon”
“My overall attitude now has shifted so far from U.S. normal…”
I think this is a good thing, except for the fines imposed. 😉
After handing you all those fines, it’s good that the cop gave you a way out. We hope that by the end of tomorrow you’ll be legal once again. Best of luck.
We arrived home after three perfect months in San Miguel de Allende. Our water heater sprung a leak sometime during the night and flooded a portion of the basement. Fixed the following day to the tune of $ 1114, the following day we put the laundry on and had another flood.No bill yet but the invoice says 7 hours and two auger machines used to fix a clogged drain. Going to be a hefty bill for sure. Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed or leave Mexico. It is cold, wet and windy here in Vancouver BC. Hope things improve for you.
1. If you are still in Patagonia and need some transportation, or whatever, we are just back up the road a bit at Patagonia State Park. Just give us a shout.
2. If you want some excellent hand-crafted pizza, check out the Velvet Elvis right in town off the main drag.
Greg-n-Gail
Ouch! Hope tomorrow is 100 times better.
Welcome to America!!!!
Good old Southern Arizona. I got pulled over once for a seatbelt there, but it was close to Christmas so he let me go.
Wish you had been as lucky.
Isn’t it amazing that you can travel through deep, dark, dangerous Mexico for months and have no problems and your back in the good old USA for what, 2 hours?, and the Welcome Wagon is right there. Hey, look at it as a contribution to the highway fixit fund, 😀
Much better luck ahead and travel safe. Really hope we can connect this summer.
Malama pono!
Wait, I’m doing the math: 800 gallons of gas x $1.50 = $1200. Keep driving and all will be well :-). Welcome back!
$1.50 in savings, that is…
Welcome home.
Stop going north.
Packing the jeep and headed to a place I found on East cape, Baja Sur . See you when you guys get back.
After riding my old beater BMW motorcycle around the US, Canada, New Zealand and Australia – with out incident or much expense – until I came back into the US through Los Angeles. I go to US Customs with my paperwork; title, registration, Carne, de passage en dune… and they slammed the window down. Absolutely would not respond or talk to me.
I found a “Facilitator” who for the fee of $600, could get it all done. So he goes up to the customs window talks for a moment, then I get get called over. There was no stamp and no entry until that $600, in cash, was handed over. Once done, stamp, done, and I’m on my bike again.
10 miles out side the California Arizona border a woman in a Cadillac kept on my tail, then would get in front of me, then slow down. I pulled out around her – and immediately got blue lighted. $80 ticket.
Whew. America.
Welcome back to loony land! Isn’t it strange to see your home culture as “just another culture”. When I land back in the states it feels like when i land in any other country. Oh, its this culture again… Great nature in the States though.
yeah it only takes a few years of living below the border to make a radical shift in the way you look at things. OTOH yesterday i got THREE things done!!! if you make a list up here (currently in MN) is is amazingly easy to cross stuff off of it. but yeah…
Good news is, if you get that taken care of right away, they will reduce the fine to $10. Same with if your drivers license is expired or if you need an inspection. Ask about that.
I love you and don’t care what it costs…i miss u and want u home
your trusted personal assistant ( though sorely under compensated )
Yep, crappie day..of course still beats siting in an office 9 to 5!!!
We always liked crossing at Naco, much nicer than Nogales, I neve had more than a 4 car wait in line and they were actually friendly at the crossing. Driving over the mountains on 2 might be a little fun with the Dodge, but not too bad. Bisbee is also another nice town to visit.
I remember that feeling of crossing the boarder and walking into an AM/PM! It’s like walking into Nordstroms. Hallaleuiah! So much to chose from…so little time and the kids run around like chickens with their heads cut off. Keep on keepin on.
Tombstone is ok but Bisbee is far more scenic and charming. Not very far from Tombstone either.
You should be able to buy a 30 day trip permit for a song. $1200 fines is criminal!
WELCOME BACK TO THE US of A!!!!!
Personally, I think you should just head for the Lost Coast, because there are no police for this entire stretch of coast. It’s just common sense and local law out here. Come on over.
I know I’m a little late to this party but I hope you had good luck with the DMV and that the days following these disasters were much better than this day!
“My overall attitude now has shifted so far from U.S. normal, that I no longer function very well within the confines of acceptable behavior here. ”
well said. you should have tried a mordida on the cop.
Now that your back in the states it’s probably inappropriate, and illegal, to kidnap other people’s dogs, subject then to surgical procedures and then pawn em off on your buddy’s.
HA! HA! You made me laugh. Now give Lolita (aka Brownie) a kiss from us and send a picture as well. We miss her.