First Full Day in Mexico

The road from Tecate to Ensenada is under construction. Well at least the first 20 kms of it. What a horrid mess of dirt, rocks and mud.

But then the construction zone finally ended, I passed the 18-wheeler that had been holding us up for the past 15 kms, and was enjoying the open road.

I was trying to recall what the landscape reminded me of. Was it the Badlands of Alberta, the high plains of Hawaii's Big Island, or perhpas the Argentinina Pampas..

I told myself to stop with the comparison's and just enjoy it for what it is … the countryside in Northern Baja, Mexico.

Then I saw some blue spray painted graffitti on some of the rocks -- at least 10 kms from any visible settlement! What the heck?!

All I could think of were the New York City subway cars during the 80's.
Beautiful works of art to be sure -- shame about the chosen canvas.

No more than 2 minutes later, my mental flashbacks were interrupted as I came around the bend of another set of twisties and saw a horse. I suppose he was a wild horse without a curfew, being so far from any villages, and just grazing by the side of the road like that.

Then I saw 3 more horses, scattered on both sides of the road.

They all looked up laziliy at me.

Then one broke, and decided this green thing coming towards them making so much noise was not a good thing.

And spooked horses, in case you don't know (I sure as heck didn't!), care nary a wit about which direction they will run.

Sure enough, one them ran across the road.

I jump on both brakes, and greared down.

Thankfully he passed about 15 feet in front of me. Not really a close call .. but at that distance, the horse looked huge. I keep saying he -- it could have been a she, for all I know.

I just glad 'becca and I didn't have a chance to find out too many of the particulars this afternoon.

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So while in Tecate, I called the toll-free number for the office in charge of Temporary Import Permits for Motorcycles. The kindly man on the other end of the line informs me that I need to call the office in Ensenda, and gives me the phone number.

The friendly ladies at the front desk of Hotel Rosita are wary about calling long distance to an area they recoginze as being in Ensenda. Since it's my next destination, and slighly over 100 kms away, we all decide it'll be best to just go there and make a local call.

Well, I am in Ensenda now. I change some dollars to pesos, find a telephone and make my call.

The number is not in service.

"Who know what tomorrow brings?"