Betsy and I checked out of the Desert Hot Springs Spa Hotel at 1:00pm on Saturday afternoon. Our goal was to arrive in Nogales, Arizona - right at Mexico's border - for the night. After checking out we had a picnic lunch by a rocky fountain on the grounds and let the dogs stretch their legs one last time.
When we went to gas up, I spotted a donut store right next to the Chevron station. I'd been craving an apple fritter for the past two days. Granted, although my research has been brief and superficial, I was beginning to believe that the desert was donutless. Stops at a half dozen mini-marts and two major grocery chains found them void of any fresh baked goods of any sort. The only pastry to be had were shrink wrapped. No thanks! But at last, here was an actual donut shop. Excited to satisfy my craving, I popped in, only to be instantly repelled by the smell of cheap, greasy Chinese food. My pours began absorbing massive amounts of atmospheric MSG. A small pastry rack sat empty. Puzzled, I enquired as to the Donut Sign. The clerk replied in halted English - "She not work today." I left Desert Hot Springs apple fritterless, with my "Donut Free Desert" theory in tact.
I donned my turquoise neon rimmed sun glasses that I bought at the Dollar Store and we drove the 9 miles out of Desert Hot Springs. We hit I-10 exactly at 2:30, with 450 miles in front of us. I was instantly reminded of a couple of things about driving through the desert.
1) Never drive with less than half a tank of gas because it can be 60 miles or more between services.
2) Although the speed limit is 75 mph, when in the desert do as the truckers do or get blown off the road. We managed to keep our "average" speed around 80.
We drove straight East on I-10 to Blythe, CA, about 120 miles. Then I-10 turns South toward Phoenix. I continued enjoying the desert scenery... have I mentioned that I love... oh never mind. About 30 miles before Phoenix we turned onto Highway 85, the Phoenix Bypass. This essentially goes in the same direction as Phoenix, but you don't have to go through it. It's the same number of miles, but especially during the week saves you from going through Phoenix traffic and rush hour.
Phoenix has, in the last 10 years or so, become dubbed "LA East" due to it's congestion, smog and traffic. It's an ugly city and I was happy to bypass it even though it was Sunday and rush hour was not an issue.
As darkness descended, we found ourselves in the tiny Arizona town of Gila Bend. A roadside restaurant called "Space Age Cafe" caught our attention. Here is the middle of nowhere, was this fully decked out, space age themed restaurant that would rival a Disneyland cafe in the detail and artwork. Even the dishes were flying saucer themed. The food was good.
Back on the road, Highway 8 merging back onto I-10 to Tucson. In Tucson we took Highway 19 South traveling about 50 miles to the border town of Nogales. Once on Highway 19, all road signs are in Kilometers rather than miles and I got some practice calculating the difference in my head. A kilometer is about 1.6 miles, so I rounded to 2/3 and was usually pretty close. We also crossed the timeline somewhere around Blythe and went onto Mountain Time, one hour ahead.
We arrived at our Nogales Motel 6 around 11:00pm. Not bad.
Nogales, of late, has been in the news a lot. Bear in mind there is Nogales, Arizona, AND Nogales, Senora Mexico. Except for the US/Mexico border - they almost consider themselves the same town. It was two months ago in Nogales Mexico where major shootings broke out in the middle of the street between law enforcement and drug lords - with gunfire going right down the middle of civilian streets and about 10 people being killed. Since then, every time I've mentioned staying in Nogales, I've been warned to be careful.
I have to say, that warning is not unwarranted but not because of drug wars. The town of Nogales, AZ is a hub for trucking companies. Double trailer 18 wheelers abound throughout the little town. At small intersections they are often impatient and aggressive. And THAT is where the real danger was. Yikes! In the morning Betsy and I went to IHop for breakfast, and within a few blocks had more than one close call with truckers who weren't afraid to use their size to intimidate.
After breakfast we repacked the cars. Betsy's packing is quite a feat. She is traveling with four dogs and supplies for them,(including a ramp for her old dog Toshi who can no lunger jump into the car) as well as a few items she wants to leave in Mexico - like a patio umbrella, double ply toilet paper and a topiary snail - so packing her car is very specific, tedious and takes about 30-45 minutes! This morning's packing was more laborious due to her Miniature Schnauzer Teddy having had diahrrea in the car the night before, just before arriving in Nogales. So a certain amount of cleanup had to take place before packing could commence. I was happy to walk the dogs while Betsy did the dirty work.
We checked out of the motel at noon, made one last stop at Safeway for some food items, bought our Mexico Car Insurance - for half the price Triple AAA would have charged - and headed the four miles to the border.
Crossing into Mexico happens in several phases which combined take an hour or so.
The first stop is right on the border. There were two cars ahead of us. There were a few quick questions from a border patrol about where we were going and for how long. The guard waved us through and laughed as he said - "just go straight." We found out why he was laughing. They had set up a bunch of those three foot tall concrete barricades like are used when there is freeway construction. It was not immediately apparent which way we were supposed to go. Eventually we found that path. It was set up like a slolom course, zigzagging through about a dozen hard turns to the left, to the right, to the left, to the right, until finally we reached the road. It was like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. You then drive through a checkpoint where you make your declaration of goods if you have any. If you don't have anything to declare you get into a separate lane. We didn't have anything to declare. Here each car must come to a complete stop. If you get a green light, you just drive on through. If you get a red light, the officials can ask for any paperwork or ask to see what's in your vehicle at their discretion. Betsy and I each got a green light.
Next you drive about 20 miles into Mexico, where you encounter the official immigration stations. You have to park your car and get out and do some paperwork. We weren't sure exactly where to start so we went over to an area that had rope lines and eleven windows to go up do. We were outdoors, the clerks were indoors and you speak through glass like at a movie theatre. Instantly it became comical and took on the atmosphere of a cheesy carnival. Like I said there were rope lines, although Betsy and I were the only ones there at the moment. It was near impossible to speak with the clerk through the glass due to some jack hammer work going on a few yards away (or is that a few meters away?) We quickly learned to carry on our conversation through the glass during the few seconds when the jack hammer was quiet. We all thought it was funny, even the clerk. The jack hammer was occasionally punctuated by a bell from somewhere that sounded identical to the bell on the Merry-Go-Round at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, giving the atmosphere even more of a crazy carnival twist. But, Betsy and I were in the wrong place and were directed to begin at a smaller indoor office.
We walked over to the office. It had been raining lightly, so the office staff had flattened out a cardboard box and placed it in the doorway so we could wipe our feet, and slip on the cardboard. Hahaha. Here our passports were checked for the first time and we filled out the usual customs form that most countries have.
Next we took our form back to the window where we had gone initially and paid $22.00 for... something... once again timing our dialogue with the jack hammers and laughing. Now we had to go back to the office - once again wiping our feet on the cardboard box - where the clerk did nothing more than ink stamp our paperwork. And we were done.
We got back in our cars and had to go through one last stop where we again had an option to make declarations, and get a red or green light. Once again we both got green lights and we were at last done with the official border crossing business. We never had to show our health certificates for our dogs. In fact Frances got a jovial pat on the head from one of the guards.
From here we drove straight through to San Carlos, leaving the border at 2:30 and arriving at the house around 7:30. The ride was happily uneventful, with the exception of a few aggressive truck drivers who amused themselves harrassing two caravaning cars with California plates. The scenery began as flat desert. Gradually mountains were added, and after Hermosillo, the mountains became more dramatic. A final turn towards San Carlos/Guaymas in the last 20 miles brought into view the signature mountain of San Carlos, silhouetted in the sunset... and a last the water.
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