Los Mochis (a.m.) / Hermosillo (p.m.), Mexico
Date: Lodging: Distance: Total:
12/11/2001 Fiesta Americana 526 KM 226202 KM

On our last night before entering the US, we gasped over this most spectacular red sunset we've seen on the entire journey.

As we approached Hermosillo; the clouds looked like a child’s etch-a-sketch.

Juan wears a traditional hat.

One of the tires on the GWagon had a tear, but continued to hold proper air pressure. Still, we tried unsuccessfully to have it vulcanized in Los Mochis, so we changed the tire instead.

Fredrik and Chris chow down on burgers in Los Mochis.

12 November 2001 – If all goes as planned, we drive back into the US tomorrow, after spending 34 months exploring 114 countries. As many have written, travel is addictive. Perhaps, travel is one of the few genuinely good-for-you, all natural drugs. The more I search, explore and uncover, the more I want to dig deeper, stay a little longer and visit just one more special spot. So many places pull me back; I am tied to them forever, and I love knowing this. To paraphrase a wonderful Mexican saying, “Once you've danced the dance, it is yours.” Even now, before this journey is complete, I find myself thinking of the places I'll return. My mind is crammed to the brim with rich, vivid memories of people, terrain and food, museums and cathedrals, landscapes even. I imagine, upon return, much time will pass before I can sort through everything jogging, and sometimes, racing around my head.

I've always been a dreamer, thinking of what next and when will I do this. But now, I often dream by reliving a wonderful experience from the last 34 months. Sure, I've moaned often about bureaucrats, tough conditions and much more, but the goodness I've experienced in 114 countries far outweighs any maddening situation or ridiculous, time-wasting, 50-year old statute we've dealt with, granted, with clenched teeth. Even the bad is now not so bad! Plus, stories of corruption, wars, bombs, small arms fire, pick-pockets, horrible roads, absurd laws enforced by ludicrous, self-important officials – all make for a much better story than utopia, which, by the way, we have yet to find. Poverty, illness, child soldiers, prostitutes, oppression of women, religious intolerance, dismal education, corrupt politicians, wasteful expatriates – have slapped reality hard in my face.

Today, though, I remind myself not to live in what I've learned – thinking, sorting, deciphering. There will be plenty of time for that in 2002. Fortunately, we have two months of exploration before us. Driving to Alaska in the winter will be rough, but no worse, we hope, than driving in Iceland and southern Argentina during their coldest, iciest months. Then, we head across the US, at the most trying time the country has faced mentally, not to mention the lackluster economy, in my lifetime, with farmers to politicians grappling with fear, outrage, disbelief, anxiety, patriotism, foreign policy and why others hate us. We still have quite a ride in store between here and New York.

  Anxieties (Jim)
  Nervous about crossing border (Paige)
  Manyana May Be Worse for Mexico