During the Christmas break of my Junior year in high school, it was time to go to Mexico and the beach again. I’d gone to Guaymas, Mexico the previous year and was eager to do something similar again. Mexico was a big place, as far as I was concerned, and I’d just been to one little piece of it on that trip. I was excited by the possibilities and the vast array of destination options.
It was Christmas break of my sophomore year in high school when Jake and I took off from Denton. We geared up and drove his parent’s VW Camper/van (with their permission), bound for Mexico with a stop in Douglas, Arizona. The plan was to meet up in Douglas with an older, more mature person named Jim, whom I knew from the summer camp where I had worked the previous summer. From there, the three of us would travel to Guaymas, Mexico, where we’d camp, have some quality beach time, and experience a bunch of “neat adventure stuff.” In the van, we had scuba gear packed away under one of the seats in cardboard boxes, places to sleep, and we must have had some food somewhere. (Note- I’m not sure how we got our parents to agree to the plan. Although I do remember it being a good thing that we would be under the supervision of someone older).
Jake and I drove to Douglas, where we connected with Jim at his parent’s house. We spent a day there doing “the friends visiting from out of town” routine, which included supper across the border in Agua Prieta. The next day we loaded Jim’s baggage into the van and took off across the border toward the coastal city of Guaymas, which we had randomly chosen as our destination.
Drums,
Beating slowly,
And filling the air
With distant
Thumps.
A sound that connects
One canyon
To another.
One village to
The next.
Like a heartbeat,
Faintly pounding,
Almost rumbling,
As the people
Move their feet.
Walking
Somewhere, always somewhere.
Down the arroyo,
Across the meadow
To the big rock,
Never talking.
Soft, but hardened,
Mostly happy,
Sometimes sad,
And often burdened.
By others,
Who want something more
Than….
Semana Santa,
Matachines,
Tesguinado,
Raramuri.
Many
Places to go,
People to see,
Things to do,
And a world to ponder.
Audio Version:
Adventure lurks………
It was Christmas break of my sophomore year in high school when my friend and classmate Jake and I took off from Denton. We geared up and drove his parent’s VW camper/van (with their permission), bound for Mexico with a stop in Douglas, Arizona. The plan was to meet up in Douglas with an older, more mature person named Jim, whom I knew from the summer camp where I’d worked the previous summer. From there, the three of us would travel to Guaymas, Mexico, where we’d camp, have some quality beach time, and experience a bunch of “neat adventure stuff.” In the van, we had scuba gear packed away under one of the seats in cardboard boxes, places to sleep, and we must have had some food somewhere.
I was in Mexico’s Copper Canyon with a group of adventure travelers, “Chavochi’s” (non-indigenous/devil people, as some of us gringos are fondly known among the Tarahumara). Some things happened while we were down there in Batopilas Canyon and the town of Batopilas, which may or may not be related. I think they are.
“You’re not lost, if you don’t care where you are.”
By this point, we were some 20 miles from the last little outpost of a town that we’d been through. But theoretically, at least, we were about to come to another. Jerry had the best available maps of the area loaded onto his GPS. But it only told us where we were relative to whatever data it was loaded with. The adage, “garbage in, garbage out,” came to mind and was soon followed by the vision of a web page that simply said, “no data available.”
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