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Welcome to our second vacation form letter. Just after the first, we left the sun, sand and warmth of the hot springs for the sun, snow and incredible rock formations of the Chiricahua National Monument, where Geronimo once hid out. We hiked for miles in the land of giant phallic symbols.
Later that day, we took a wrong turn and discovered Mexico. Getting lost is part of our daily travel routine. Actually, we were just this side of the border in Naco, but we kept getting lost in bad neighborhoods and scaring Ana. We found the highway again - eventually.
That's when we were stopped by the Border Patrol. Fortunately another car tried to escape, and the agents chased them down the highway, so we were able to leave without digging around to find Ana's documents. We stooped for the night in Sierra Vista, and spent the evening in a redneck bar fifty yards from a military base. Is that a recipe for bar fights or what?
In the morning we went to Nogales, Mexico for lunch, drank margaritas, sang with mariachis in the restaurant, and bought a miniature guitar for some reason since forgotten. We crossed into the U.S. still tipsy, on the theory that they just wave through drunk tourists, which is what they did. We spent the night a mile from the border in a motel where registration consisted of "What's your first name?" We loved Nogales - both sides of the border.
We also loved Tucson. After lunch at a Guatamalen restaurant, we walked around town until the temperature hit 77 degrees. Then we headed up to Mount Lemmon, to play in the snow. Some skiers there told us the only way off the mountain was the way we came up. They were wrong.
The first two signs on the dirt road said "Unmaintained Road," and "Not Suitable For Passenger Vehicles." We took this as an invitation. The sign that said "Bear Crossing," made it seem more scenic. Then there were, in order, "Slippery Road - 4x4 Recommended," "Falling Rocks - Next 11 Miles," "Rough Road - Fire Debris and Washouts," "Falling Trees," and one or two I've forgotten.
Fifteen minutes and a mile later, we met the only other car we'd see until the next day, coming up the road. "It wasn't pleasant," the driver said, with a glazed expression. I guess it's a matter of perspective. The road was rough, and the icy patches treacherous, and he cliffs menacing, but the Mexican music on the radio was cheerful.
I danced as I drove, scaring Ana, who stared out her window at the rocks hundreds of feet below. When it was too dark to continue, we pulled off the road and opened the bed in the van. After dinner, we slept, until Ana woke me up, whispering, "There's something breathing outside the window".
"Don't worry, it's just Chupacabra (A Mexican blood-sucking monster)," I told her, and I went back to sleep. In the morning there was something breathing outside the window. A cow. We found the highway a couple hours later.
We camped in Tonto National Forest for a couple nights, saw deer, quail, owls, and hunters stalking two of the three. In Globe we stayed at the worst motel ever, drank in the best bar in town, and ate too much at a Chinese buffet.
In Safford, we went to the third "Lord of the Rings" movie, avoided every doctor in town for a change, and then returned to the hot springs here, where I also wrote the first letter. We are over budget, but having a great time. Hope all is well in the land-of-many-snows. Adios until next time.
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