Setting out West

Well, my time in Texas has come to a close--for now. Today, I will head out across the no man's land of West Texas. My dad got in yesterday--we went to some BBQ, which was OK, and then caught Inception at The Alamo Drafthouse. A really interesting movie theater: all the commercials were made by them, and had some element of hilarity, e.g. "Make sure to put your cell phone away, or we will hunt you down and finish you," (this is coupled with a short clip of an usher stabbing a man who had his cellphone out during a movie. There were also commercials for local events at the various Drafthouses around town--outdoor movie night, old classics night, beer brewing discussion night, and so on. Also, in the theater, a waiter is assigned to your area, and you order food by writing down what you want on a sheet of paper, and putting it on the table in front of you--my dad had ice cream with caramel, and I had some peanut butter cups and a Brooklyn Brown Ale--it all totaled $15--somehow I feel like, if that was in LA, it would have been $20-30. Inception was good, but my third time--I think I fully understand it now, if you have questions, I am pretty sure I can answer them; it is still a fantastic film.

Today we are going to leave about midday--I still need to pack and organize. I should take the dogs for a walk sooner than later, I guess. Yesterday, while walking the greenbelt, Chops ran up to another dog. Then he spotted a cat lurking in the foliage to the right, and he bolted after it--the lady with the dog screams, "That's my cat!"--oh shit! As the lady rummages the bushes calling out, "here Corn Dog...heeeeere Corn Dog," a take the time to clarify, "You were walking your cat as well?" She told me that the cat likes to follow the dog and her on walks. I apologized immensely and put Chops on leash. I need to work with him on this, but his prey drive is extremely high. He catalogs in his mind, where he has seen small animals, and whenever we return to those places, he checks them excitedly. In any event, I am going to try some training with my mom's cat, when I get home.

Today we head out, and it is the next phase of my never ending summer: it started with Mexico post school, then the solo drive north for 1000mi, then Austin for two weeks, now a road trip west, then LA for a month, then north and Burning Man, then back to LA, then north again (with dogs and Espanoles) to SC and Berkeley, then back to LA, down to SD for Joe's SEALS graduation, and then back to Austin for ACL and the homestead...so it goes and here I come!

Austin--Vacation

Well, here I be: Austin, TX, hot and sweaty. Since I have gotten here, it has been a new world, filled with good people, good thoughts, and awakenings.

My first day here, I went out for a beer and a burger with my neighbor Josh, and it was grand. Much like Condesa, we are in the thick of things here, and walking to all the basic needs is a great luxury. I have eaten cheeseburgers on three separate occasions, and they all have been lovely in their own way:

• Cheeseburger with whiskey smoked cheddar (and $3 Texas brewed Hefeweizen) at Flying Saucers.
• Late night EZ's diner cheeseburger--quite tasty.
• And last but not least, I sampled a Mighty Fine burger, with cheese, bacon, and jalapenos, and I threw in a chocolate shake to really test it out. This isthe South's answer to In-N-Out, and let me tell you: the decorum, the menu, the burger, the shake, and the quality were pretty damn good...but it still doesn't beat that California treat, that is In-N-Out.

Other than eating burgers, I went and played some pick up ultimate frisbee on Friday night. A group of guys, various skill and athletic ability, play 5-7 on a side. The fields where they meet are two blocks from my house. I was a little nervous going, but I sucked it up and checked it out. The way they play, is white shirts vs. dark shirts, and you cover whomever you are standing across from. It isn't really about who wins the game, but rather just playing each point. It was a hell of a work out, and my freaking hair tie snapped on the first point. I ripped the pull chord off my bucket hat, and tied my hair with that. I didn't play my best, but it was a great first step. I am playing tomorrow at a different park with some of the same guys.

I also have spent time organizing my room, which I am really enjoying. Although my room gets little light, because I have one window, and it hides undera grove of trees, I love the layout. THIS HOUSE IS GREAT! Once I get a camera, I will snap some decent photos, but for the meantime, here are some camera picks of my room layout:

I also, put up a little fence with a gate so that I have created a space for the dogs to have during the day, when I am not there. My intention was to create a place for them to have for both making poops and chilling. This way, they are not dirtying the whole yard, and they learn where to do their business.

Last night, Marissa and I went and saw Inception (or El Origen, as my friend Noli informed it is called in Mexico). It was WILD! I am still thinking about it, and ready to go back to the theaters and see it again. The cast did an amazing job, and the pure future implications of this kind of reality are spine tingling--digital drugs, was the phrase that came to mind. The ability to download digital narcotics, and to altar the body, mind, and chemistry within, I believe is not so far off. and shortly after its development and commercialization, we shall see the development of addictions. We already have the technologically addicted, but the lead will be, when these digital worlds are implanted, uploaded, connected, interfaced, and spliced into the human body. I proclaim it now: this will be the epidemic of my children's generation.

On a happier note, I have started brainstorming my ideas for Burning Man. With the help of Marissa, and it is a short time frame, I hope to construct a tent canopy shelter for my 4Runner, which will double as a shell for protecting my truck from the elements, and the creation of a home base for myself, while in the wilds of the playa. The more I have meditated on what I will need at Burning Man, the more I think a personal sanctuary will be of the upmost importance.

Much love.

The End and The Return

Wow! That is how I will start it all off--Wow!!!

Now, sorry for the length of this update, but it has been many many weeks, and there is much that needs to be logged for the official record.

I have been out of work since the 18th. Since that time, much has transpired, and I have not updated for quite sometime. So here is the short and narrow or the many weeks, wrapping up my time in Mexico:

1) I packed up my car and my belongings on the 29th of June. It

was many many hours of moving, adjusting, planning, and pushing. I got it all in--I utilized my custom net on the inside of the truck to hold clothing, camping gear, and framed photos. I then stacked all the boxes on the passenger side of the truck, and filled the rest of the crap into the rocketbox on top. I made a sweet little nest for the dogs, and then I patted myself on the back for my efforts.

I had intentions of leaving that same day, but the more I thought about leaving, the more I didn't want to. SO, I put my truck in a pension, and I moved the dogs and some essentials into Mauricio's house--I dropped him off at the airport a week earlier, and he was happily in Chile. I holed up in his house and made good on my freetime: watched his pirated copies of UFC Top 100 Fights, drank coffee and walked in the park with the dogs, Had a great lasagna dinner with Marta and the Espanoles, went and saw a crazy play with Julia (It was inside an old city bus, and it was fucking wild!), I ate at all my favorite spots, saw some Lucha Libre, and I enjoyed The City without the strain of my job.

Also, I went with Ms. Tess Wheelwright to an amazing toy mueseum in Doctores. A Japanese/Mexican man owns the place, and it is wild. It felt like a weird mix of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Alice in Wonderland. We capped off the experience with mescal in a Centro Cantina. Then I had a despedida at Groove--an Argentinian/Italian place. A bunch of the gringos (Josh, Dave Miller, Dean, Tim, Ryan, Greg) showed up and Pablo, Ana, Julia, Nachete, and Marta made an appearance. It was an evening of good food, good drinks,

and good laughs. It was a nice way to begin the end of Mexico. I felt like it started the ball rolling in my mind, and I began to evolve the notion of leaving. I stayed in the city for much longer after this, but it was the beginning of a new beginning.

2) During my relaxation in the house of Mauricio, I received an email from one of my students, Chris Clifford. Mr. Clifford told me, that his family home in Avandaro (Part of the lakeside mountain community known as Valle de Bravo) was available for FREE rental. I thought about this opportunity, and inside I channeled my old traveling buddy Jamie Marcus, and said "More "yes's" than "no's". I asked Pablo, Ana, and Julia if they would like to join me for a day or two, and they said yes. So it was set into action.

I headed out last Sunday. I met the Cliffords at their hacienda and spent the evening with them. The father is a sociologist who works in media analysis and community studies. We had some great conversations over tea. Both Mr. and Mrs. Clifford are of English descent (their families immigrated to Mexico many generations back), so coffee is not the drink of choice. We had a good evening, and Chris showed me around to some of the highlights of the pueblo.

The next day, the Cliffords left early and I awoke to an empty house. I made some coffee (they had gone, so I thought it was ok), and I headed to the backyard with my Warbonnet Blackbird camping hammock. I hung out, for most of the day. I wrote in my journal, I read my book (started reading Kerouac's On the Road--it seems fitting for this summer and life change). In the evening, after some blunders with my directions and phone, the Espanoles made it.

We had a sweet dinner, played some board games, and had a

little fire. It was good times.

The next day we wandered into Valle de Bravo, and took a spin around the lake. It was beautiful, and the houses were incredible. We ended the day back in Avandaro, where Pablo and Ana gifted me my very own authentic Bota de Vino. I still need to break it in, but it shall be ready for my summer adventures. We then had Spanish chorizo and cheese, and played a game of Apples to Apples. The game ended with some sour feelings, and a little bit of a divide arose between Julia and I--it was a shame that it occurred at such a time, but things happen. We tried to talk it out, but feelings aren't always rational, and hence we had to agree to disagree.

The next day, the Espanoles left, and I stayed on by myeslf. I spent the next two days in the house alone--I played guitar and sang songs, I ate food, watched some UFC, made a fire, and took a hike to the lake. The hike to the lake was a trip in and of itself.

We walked from the wealthy paved roads of the upper class into the dusty dirt roads of the rural mountain poor. We wound down down and down. At the bottom, all the lake access was swallowed up by private property. I asked a kind gardner if I could walk down, and he said sure, that they were closed for today, but not to worry.

As soon as we got to the bottom, Chops threw up. He began to vomit profusely, and in one of the foamy mounds I saw rotten intestines of some animal--at some point on our hike, he had eaten a dead animal.

He looked at me, and in his eyes there was no clarity. He began to shake an wobble; he stumbled into the water and put his nose in, but was unable to drink. I began to panic--we were two hours down the mountain, and he was having a toxic reaction. I grabbed him by the collar and we began marching up. Whenever I let him go, he would stumble this way and that.

We began walking, and I decided that if a car passed, I would ask them for a ride. We continued to walk, and I wiped the foam from his mouth. As we marched, he began to right himself. I could tell he was becoming more alert, and he had stopped trembling. We found a hole with fresh rain water, and he drank long and deeply. He snorted and looked at me--he was back! My heart still thumped as we walked on, but we got back to the summit, and I purchased bottled water from a tienda--he drank the whole fucking thing.

We got back to the cabin, I went for some firewood, and we settled in for the night--the rain started and went through the night. I cooked a solid dinner (gave Chops some yogurt for his stomach--he loved it!), made a fire, and howled at my solitude. The power went out, and I huddled on the floor with the dogs--we warmed ourselves by the fire, and we enjoyed the melodies of the wild.

The drive out was beautiful, and I beat the traffic home. I spent my final night back in

DF. I had a burger from Orujo, my favorite Uruguyan BBQ joint, and I spent a little time chatting it up with Pablo and Ana--I LOVE THOSE TWO!

3) Early on the 10th I hit the road. I cleaned Mauricio's house, and left him a few parting gifts. After a quick breakfast with Pablo and Ana, I loaded up the car and hit it. My GPS helped me navigate swiftly to the Periferico and I started blazing my trail north. No sooner was I making good time did it all grind to a stop. The genius of urban planning in Mexico is astounding; projects are started that are immense in scope and size, and it seems like they do the entire first step and then take on little parts, i.e. bulldoze the dirt for an entire new freeway, and then build it in non-chronological parts. Needless to say, I encountered one of these great projects, and I spent the better part of an hour shifting in and out of 1st, all because they had closed one lane for a stretch of concrete repair about 5 meters long--one would think they could do this at night, but oh well.

I was back at cruising speed, and I made my way ever northward: Queretero, San Luis Potosi, Matehuala, and eventually Saltillo. I clicked in at about 500mi (800km) when it was all said and done. It is a shame that the north of Mexico is facing such peril with all the Narco Wars, because it truly is beautiful. I was taken a back by the lush green mountains and

valleys that lined the drive.

I pulled into Saltillo at sunset, found a rustic little motel for the night, pleaded my case for the dogs, and holed up for the night. There was AC and TV. I took the liberty of cutting my rally beard for my return to the States--I have been thinking about reflecting the change in my life with a change in my appearance--I got a lot of weird looks on the road after this.

4) Raging the road was without a hitch--until 50mi (80km) from the town of Nuevo Laredo. Due to the hurricane and rains, the final stretch to Laredo had been closed for 4 days. Trucks lined the freeway and drivers played card games in the dirt. I asked an old man, who seemed to know what to do, where I could cross, he told me that the road heading east was open, and that I could try and cross further down. So I hopped in the truck with a quarter tank and barrelled off--surely I would find gas en route, afterall, there are Pemex stations everywhere.

As I blazed down the potholed country road, I wondered how this would all pan out. After about a half hour I saw a gas station, but the pumps were closed, well ok then. I asked the lady inside if the border was open further down, and if there was gas, she said yes to both. I chugged a gatorade and barreled on.

Another half hour, and I am behind some semi trucks, when a pick up, going the opposite direction, flashes its lights--the driver tells me that it's all flooded this way too, and that it is closed--AHHH--so close yet so far away. Since I was an hour down the road, and my GPS said I was about 7mi (10km) from the town, I decided to continue on, rather than turning back. As I round the final corner, once again trucks are lining the road--SHIT! I pull up to a military officer decked out with fatigues and an AK-47. He waves me through the check point--what I did not know, was that myself and the other three cars he waved through, were the first to be let through in days. I speed into town, at last a gas station--no wait, it is closed--now the empty light flicks on--SHIT AGAIN! I start driving through this little puebla, and I conclude that I must stop and find gas from someone. I pull over after seeing many people milling about. I ask a fair skinned lady what I can do, she first responds in Spanish, and then in perfect US English--holy shit, a gringa! I tell her my predicament, and she tells me that her husband has gas at the house, and I can follow her there, and we can fill up. She informs me that there have been no gas deliveries for a week.

We get to her house, and her husband is waiting outside--he is a tall Mexican man with a tough and rugged look, but sweet. He brings out a 5 gallon jug, and we drop it into the tank. She asks me, where I am coming from, and I say, "Saltillo, by way of DF." She is sort of in disbelief. She goes on to tell me, that when she saw me, she was taken a back, because there are no tourists in the north these days. She said it has gotten really bad, and all the rumors and worries I had heard in DF were not unwarranted. Apparantely last week they hung a man down the road in the next town--she has lived there for 20 years, and she is moving back to the States, because the border has become too dangerous--WOW!

I offer to pay for the gas, they refuse, I tell them that they are my angels, and I leave them both with a handshake--it was a random act of kindness and luck.

I follow their directions and cross over a bridge on the outskirts of town--I slow down through the Mexican check point, but they check nothing--no one was outside. I cautiously continue on expecting a federali to come in hot pursuit, the street signs change to English, and I am driving over a lake, and then I am in line. I am car 15 and I am waiting. It took about 40 minutes to get up to the light, but when I looked back, there were at least 50 more cars behind me--like I said, I was one of the first cars to be let through. I pull up to the guard, and he asks me what I have to declare--I say nothing. He tells me I have a truck full of stuff, that I have to declare something. I say that I have dogs, with papers (I show them), I have some guitars, he looks at my coffee cup (which is an old spaghetti sauce jar), he snoops around, scans my passport, and waves me through--HOLY MOTHER OF LORD, I AM BACK!!!

I stopped at a green patch of grass just beyond the border patrol station and let the dogs out. I also let out a rebel yell--it felt so good to make it back.

The next hours were just filled with southern Texas nothingness. I past hundreds of creatively named ranches; the most notable was, "La Buena Vida".

5 hours later, about, I was pulling down my street, Avenue C. I pulled up, and Dave, the landlord, a young Mexican American buck about 35 or so, was putting the finishing touches on some work in the house. We chopped it up a little bit, and it felt right. I moved all my crap into my room, and then I met Josh. Josh lives in the little studio in back. He is a chill guy, and his mannerisms seem familiar, like an old friend. Him, Marissa, and I went out to dinner for some good local beer and burgers. We shared stories and philosophies. He is an engineering consultant, and is out of town one week a month. I think it will work out really nicely.

And well, that is it. I am here until the 27th, when my dad flies out, and we hit the road back to LA. I plan on being in LA up until Burning Man, and then heading north for some SC time.

I am forgetting things, but all and all, it has been the perfect ending to a perfect year abroad.