As mentioned in my previous post, we changed our plans, foregoing stops at Teacapan and San Blas because of reports of road washouts, and squadrons of hungry mosquitos ready to feast on unsuspecting gringos.
The evening of October 26th, just before dark, a motorhome from British Columbia pulled into Villa Celeste for a one night layover. We spoke briefly with the couple, and they informed us they to were heading to Lo de Marcos. This was they first time into Celestino Gasca and they were unsure how to get back to the toll road. So arrangements were made that we would lead them back to highway #15 in the morning.
We both departed Villa Celeste at 6.30AM and took it nice an easy going out the rutted, sandy road. We told the other couple, who decided to follow us, that we would be stopping in Mazatlan for fuel. We got back on the toll road after negotiating numerous topes, without incident. Heading south in a mini-convoy we travelled through winding mountainous terrain. With a toll booth approaching I was concentrating on having the appropriate pesos in hand, and when I looked in the mirror, the motorhome was nowhere in sight. The B.C. couple had been towing a small SUV behind their large motorhome so Nicole and I thought they may have stopped to double check their connection. We pulled into a gravel area and waited for 15 minutes, but there was no sign of them. We decided to continue on to Mazatlan, fuel the truck, and wait for them there. That we did, but again no sign of them. With over 300 kms to go to reach Lo de Marcos, we couldn’t wait any longer, so on we went. We heard later from other campers that left Villa Celeste after us, that we met in Tepic, that the SUV the motorhome had been towing had caught on fire and was totally destroyed. Luckily, the BC couple were able to get it detached from the motorhome before further damage was done. It was suspected the SUV may have blown a tire, and being hidden from view eventually generated enough heat to cause the fire. Obviously, their trip was delayed filing police reports, and awaiting insurance adjusters.
We were told that the toll road bypassed Mazatlan, but in reality you do travel through part of the city albeit the outskirts. We followed road signs indicating the route to Tepic, until I missed a left turn to get back onto the toll road, and we ended up on the Tepic Libremente (free road). A couple of miles down the road I was able to find a spot to turn the rig, and we headed back towards Mazatlan. As we neared the place where I missed the turn, we were stopped at a military checkpoint. The corporal (about 20 years old), asked in spanish, ” Esta tu casa” ( Is this your house). To which I replied, “Si, vamos a Tepic.” (we are going to Tepic) He said okay and waved us on. The rest of the trip to Tepic was uneventful, although there were some long climbs up the mountains, and we made it there by 11.30AM.
We fuelled up with diesel, sandwiches, burritos, and cokes at the first Pemex gas station we came to. While giving the truck a breather, and enjoying our picnic in the Pemex lot, amidst gas fumes, and the noise of groaning tractor trailers trying to make it up the steep grade, a red half ton with a middle aged Mexican and four younger fellows pulled up and parked in front of us. I noted that in the back of the truck was some kind of equipment but never paid much attention, thinking they were construction workers just stopping for a break.
After a couple of minutes the older gentleman asked, ” Puede limpia la camionetta y remolque?” (Can we clean your truck and trailer). At this point I noticed that the equipment in the back of the half ton included a water tank and gas powered spray washer. Now to say that our rig was dirty would be an under-statement. After blowing sand at Huatabampito and the dusty, rutted road in Celestino Gasca, one would think our truck and trailer had been equipment used in “Desert Storm”. After a bit of haggling it was agreed the group of men would wash the truck and trailer for 200 pesos. They set up there equipment, and after repairing leaking hose connections, fired up the sputtering gas sprayer. Within seconds the manager of the Pemex station came over, and told them politely to take their business elsewhere as he didn’t want his lot full of Huatabampito sand. The mobile car wash was quickly re-routed around the corner on the side of the road in front of a taco stand. The manager there was quick to react motioning that they were not welcome there either. Next door was a business that repaired leaf springs on large trucks. The owner came out and said they could wash the truck and trailer in front of his place as the water would keep the dust down. The business owner graciously offered us plastic chairs to sit on while waiting for the wash job, however when I saw that the former white chairs were now black and covered with grease I just as graciously refused. We had fun with them all, kidding, and joking. I have always found Spanish speaking people have a great sense of humour, so I showed them a fisherman and farmers handshake and they all roared with laughter. To make a long story longer, the mobile car wash did an excellent job. They even put Armour-All on the truck and trailer tires. A 50 pesos propina (tip) for a job well done, brought a smile to their faces.
By this time it was almost 1.30PM, so we thanked everyone for their hospitality, and were on our way. Tepic is a city high in the mountains and I believe the elevation is rough 3,800 feet above sea level. The remaining 100 kilometres or so was going to be all downhill. We left the toll road after the fourth overpass in southern Tepic and entered a narrow, winding two-lane highway #200. This road is the principal route from Tepic to Puerto Vallarta, so it is heavily travelled by double-long transport trucks, buses, cars and trucks. I am not sure if Mexican drivers have suicidal tendencies, or just drive with machismo. But one thing I am sure of is they don’t pay attention to speed limits, and are consummate risk takers. As we descended down the mountain there were many places with blind corners, sharp curves, and steep grades. In order to control our speed of descent I used either third or second gear rather than riding the brakes. All of a sudden you would round a “curva peligroso” (dangerous curve) and be faced with a big transport truck or bus coming up the mountain. Because the lanes were narrow with little or no shoulder there was little margin for error. The Mexican drivers were passing us in places you wouldn’t think it was possible. Evil Knivel paled by comparison. Many spots were marked with small crosses, and flowers. Grime reminders of those who didn’t finish the trip down the mountain. Nicole remained calm throughout the descent, although I did have to pry her fingers off the dashboard when we reached the bottom.
We passed through many small villages such as Las Varas, La Penita, Rincon Guaybitos, El Monteon once down on the valley floor. Finally, after a long day on the road we saw a road sign indicating a right turn into Lo de Marcos.
Lo de Marcos is a typical small Mexican town of roughly 2,000 inhabitants. It is dusty, the roads are narrow, made of cobblestone, rough with hidden topes. As we slowly made our way down the main street, Luis Echeverria, it was like playing dodge-ball. It was bad enough to have trucks coming towards you, that were intent on playing a game of Mexican chicken, but you had parked cars, people on motor scooters, bicycles, pedestrians, children playing in the street, and the occasional sun tanning dog, to contend with. And to make matters worse I missed a left turn, and had to back rig up a block amid all this chaos.
After passing several RV parks, we arrived at a white coloured building that had “El Caracol Bungalows and RV Park”, boldly painted across the exterior wall. It was with a certain degree of satisfaction and relief that I exited the truck to check out our new winter home. After roughly 8,500 kilometres it was great to finally reach our tropical destination. The owners, Veronica and Manuel Massens were not present when we arrived, but after a telephone call Manuel arrived shortly thereafter. There was only one other camper in the park at this time, so after a quick check of their reservation list we were escorted to site #8, near the beach. After considerable manouvering and Manuel moving many pots of tropical plants, I was able to back the trailer to its resting place. The saga continues, please stay tuned. Photos to follow. Just got internet access through a third party on October 29th at 5.00PM.
