Date: Fri, 28 Aug 2009 22:11:33 -0600
Reply-To: Jeffrey Olson <jjolson@GWTC.NET>
Sender: Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@gerry.vanagon.com>
From: Jeffrey Olson <jjolson@GWTC.NET>
Subject: Isis and I!!!!
In-Reply-To: <6bc66ccf0908281811x5f5f2602lbd555414b6a61ae5@mail.gmail.com>
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Our last report was from the Monument Valley in the southwest. We spent
a couple weeks camping and day hiking and working out the bugs we knew
would come from moving from the suburbs to our 85 GL/camper. All the
emotional stuff we felt about leaving home - selling the house, storing
the furniture we wanted to keep, selling the rest in garage sales and
finally giving away what we couldn't sell - it was all over...
It only took two weeks of hanging out in the desert in the bus (I know a
vanagon isn't a bus - so what!) to get into a routine so everything had
a place, and each of us had our functions. Isis continued to have a
major thread in her fabric that wouldn't let her be comfortable. I
guess I had one too, but I could more easily hide it dealing with bus
issues and making camping spots perfect.
In 1974 three friends and I had outfitted my 1966 SO42 for a two month
trip to Mexico. In the winter of 1971 Rob and I, and three others, had
spent a month searching for the "perfect beach" on the west coast of
Mexico. The 1974 trip was envisioned based on our 1971 experience.
We'd found a three bedroom apartment on the top floor of a three story
apartment building in Tecoman, MX and spent two weeks writing winter
theses for college courses. In 1974 we just wanted to find good surfing
and the perfect beach and the idyllic life. WE found it.
We landed in Boca de Apiza, a little fishing village on the border of
Colima and Michoacan, two of Mexico's states. A year earlier the town
had experienced a hurricane that flattened all the beachside buildings
in town. We hooked up with a family that fed us breakfast and dinner
each day for about a dollar and a half, and we spent the days surfing
and taking the little two man inflatable up the river into alligator
country and ten foot reeds and true jungle weirdness. They build us a
two room palapa on the beach next to their restaurant/home.
This was pretty much the archetypal Mexico experience. WE were 25 miles
from the nearest paved road and town/hospital. While surfing I was
stung by a stingray, a big one, and not knowing about the poison,
crawled up on the beach, lay back, and felt the pain move up from the
sting point in my ankle up my inner thigh to my crotch. I figured it
would reach my heart and that would be it. My friend came in from
surfing and asked what I was doing, and insisted I go to talk with
Maria, the "Mom" of everyone.
She laughed, and said, "Uno rayo egh!" She pushed me into a chair, went
to the five gallon jug of "alchol" - the bottom of the cactus used to
make mesqual - and poured out 12 ounces into a water glass. She said -
"Tome eso" and I did...
I didn't die.
Isis and I agreed that we would travel the west coast of Mexico "at
leisure." This became an ironic rallying cry as we got deeper into
rural areas and social realities we weren't prepared to deal with.
Mexico in 2009 is much different from what it was in 1974. We didn't
find an "unspoiled" spot. Wherever we ended up, we weren't persons, we
were rich marks. Kids, moms, luscious 15 year olds, drug dealers - all
wanted our money.
There was now a highway travelling the west coast where before it had
been dirt roads, plantations, the 18th century... Lots of development.
We couldn't find any beaches we would consider unspoiled. There was
always a lurking presence on the edges of our camping that had us keep
our guards up. It wasn't as bad as when in 1974 we drove south of urban
Mazatlan to find a beach to camp on. We were hit up by fake cops who
tried to plant pot on us. Luckily we'd read in Rolling STone about this
very pheonomon and were prepared. The fake cops left really frustrated...
One of the things that opened doors for us was the bus. There were lots
of rattletrap vanagons held together with hope and baling wire. Isis
loved to talk about the bus. Over the months she got to know it better
than I did. I mean in intimate ways - I still had a better grasp of the
internal combustion engine and peripherals. She, on the other hand, had
a total grasp of cultural experience of living in a bus and people's
interest in what that was like. Whether in Grand Escalante, Sedona, or
the tiniest pullout on the new highway in Mexico, Isis loved to answer
questions about living on the road.
Isis is beautiful. At 56 she has white blond hair that has aged into a
straw blond streaked with really thick gray hairs. My hair is graying
at the temples. Her's grays in individual strands. She's almost 6'
tall, with broad shoulders and ribcage, a relatively thick waist (my
beautiful sister calls it a "wine" tummy) and surprisingly narrow hips,
and really, really beautifully muscular legs. She has stretched and
yogaed and danced so that she hasn't gotten fat. I think it's genetic
because she really doesn't do any more than I do, and I struggle with
weight. She is bemused whenever I talk about weight and fitness.
In 1974 the woman travelling with us - Sharon - was 22 and wore a skimpy
pink bikini. Because she didn't wear a wedding ring, slept with her
boyfriend, and talked to other men, she was considered a whore. The
Mexican man's approach to a beautiful American woman hadn't changed.
Because Isis didn't wear a wedding ring, she was fair game... And she
loved it...
Isis took men into the bus to show them the cabinets I'd built, the way
the bed folded out, the storage capacity. I loved how the men would
look at me guiltily, as if they were transgressing, but somehow up on
me. I love the self-confidence of Mexican men when they are wooing a
woman...
I had never liked the Westfalia setup of the 80s and early 90s, and had
bought an 85 GL I stripped to the bare bones. I found two rust spots -
a seam on the drivers side just forward of the engine compartment, and
one next to the passenger's seat. I ground them down and sealed them
and put together the busses interior. I followed the general layout of
the SO42. Mostly, I wanted the facing seats, one behind the driver's
seat, the other the westy seat. A table rises up inbetween. There is
storage underneath the seat behind the driver's and an icebox behind the
passenger seat, with shelves that fold out. I did put in a wardrobe on
the passenger side behind the sliding door, but made it so it was
shelves to store stuff. It works...
I installed a 2003 Subaru 2.5 liter engine that had 7K miles. I'm so
good to go until I die!!!!
Isis and I have been on the road in Mexico now for four months. The bus
and its Subaru engine are our platform. I have over 100 pounds of tools
and instruments stashed in nooks and crannies Isis doesn't feel the need
to visit. I'm waiting for a response to my query to a listserv whose
members are heading to Tierra del Fuego in the fall. We hope to meet up
with them and join their excursion. We want to drive to the tip of
South America and as far north as we can get in Alaska. We have enough
money. We have the vison. We have the will. Now, we need the
camraderie and help.
Go well
Isis and Jeff
From Integora, MX
