Jacomulco y Punta de Partida

After a Thanksgiving tailgate in the Bodega parking lot, a crew of us ventured south for a few days to Jacomulco to stay with our friend Misael. He had a double kayak so that was my opportunity to take a stab at kayaking. FAIL. I thought I would be much better at reading white water but after flipping twice, leaving Andrew (who was very patient) and I both scratched and bruised, it was apparent I'm best to stick with surfing.

After three days in Jacomulco, we came to Punta Roca Partida, home of the Rio de Oro. The take out from the Oro is the river mouth so we took the opportunity to camp on the beach for a couple days (leaving the double behind). It's a nice change of pace and it feels good to be living outdoors again with the added bonus of east coast sun rises and a full moon shining on the ocean. Besides "Gangnam Style" being loudly (sooo loudly) repeated every minute on the Mexican Jukebox, and the occasional dog fights, things are pretty peaceful.

The scenery here surpasses all I've seen thus far. I went for a run the other day and the confused looks from both the locals and cows fueled my desire to keep running until I reached a lookout to the ocean. (The concept of running for pleasure hasn't reached this town either). Usually, five miles at high noon with no food or water would be enough for me, but after the ocean view with wildlife surrounding me, I was fueled with all the energy I needed to turn around and take in another five to get back to camp.

Next week I'll be taking a much needed break from boys and heading to the west coast to surf with Rikki and Erika. Even if we get skunked on swell which is quite possible this time of year, it will be nice to get in the water with my girls again. It's going to take me two days to get there by bus so I'm sure I'll have some good stories for you. Until then, que tengan un buen dia.

Rainy Days

Today, I woke up home sick. Nothing in particular sparked it, but I felt so far away from home, I actually started crying. I didn't know how to get ahold of myself so I went for a walk and asked God to come with me. Different prayers came to the surface of my thoughts and all I did was embrace the storm passing through. 

I thought of my little sister who just got engaged to her high school sweetheart. I thought of my niece, my best girl, growing so fast and prays for me every day on her own as she says, “Bebba, safe, Mexico.” I thought of Sis who is two months from giving birth to my nephew and two weeks from moving into their new home and needs me now more than ever. I thought of my little brother who is doing amazing things with the church and taking risks going to Juarez to share with the people of Mexico. I thought of my parents who worry about me more than they need to. All I could do was cry. 

12 years later, she circled "yes"

All these thoughts and worries came storming though all at once and I was overwhelmed. Then I remembered a quote I read recently by Freya Stark: “To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.”  Of the 308 million-plus citizens in the United States, 30% have passports (CNN 2011). Everyone dreams of traveling the world, but very few actually do it. I'm one of the lucky few, living the dream. Not the American dream, but my own.

Before walking back to the house, I noticed an old woman in her apron carrying a bucket full of something heavy. With very little effort, she hiked up the hill with a smile on her face. She stopped and looked at me, as I sat on the sidewalk with my head in my hands and tears on my cheeks. She looked me right in the eye and said, “what a beautiful day it is today.” And she left, saying nothing more. 

I realized then how lucky I am to wake up in this foreign town, and the old woman who has probably never left this small town of Jacomulco, was here to remind me of the beauty of this world. Sometimes I get caught up in my own world and forget to look around to see what’s really going on. The world keeps on turning, with or without me and it's a beautiful thing. I'm traveling and that in itself is a blessing. Once home from Mexico, I will have no job, no money, no plan, and that's okay because someone else has it all mapped out for me. Bring on the rain. 

Matthew 6:3-4

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." 

Todo es Posible, Nada es Seguro

...so goes the motto of each new day in Mexico. 

Rafa on Big Banana (Left) and Tomata 1

The boys are going big here in Tlapacoyan starting with Galen, the invincible 17 year old from Ithaca, New York, who will run anything saying “it’s good to go.” A few days ago, camera crews arrived and offered to pay the $200 fee for Gaylin to extend his flight if they could get a shot of him running down Big Banana Falls. Without hesitation, he agreed and 12 hours later was charging down the 2nd largest waterfall in the world to be run in a kayak (128 feet). The next day, motivation and adrenalin ran through the rest of the boys and fired them up to run the smaller, yet stout, Tomata 1. 

Boomer decided it was time to ditch his kayak and take the 60 foot Tomata down with a stand up paddle board (yyyyyeah). It’s easy to get fired up here when camera crews and energy are never ending. All survived the day with a few aches and pains and after Riley had a not-so-good line and had to swim, Marlow told him, “your mum would eat you for breakfast!” but Riley was fine and still stoked on life (like always). I would have to say, I’m thankful none of these boys’ mothers are here because I’ve only known these guys for two weeks and I think my blood pressure has nearly doubled. 

Top Left: Ica charging Tomata, All the boys contemplating, Marlow on a sketchy ledge helping the camera crew
Bottom Left: Boomer and Tyler doing some yoga before the drop, Riley on his way down Tomata 

Tomata having its way with Boomer 

Ozzies, a Kiwi, and Montezuma's Revenge

Oh My...

We met some amazing boys here at Adventurec in Vera Cruz. Two of them are from Australia (Riley and Marlow), one of them from New Zealand (Sandy), yet all three live in Canada which I’ve come to find out is very common. I don’t know if it’s their positive attitude, politeness, accent, or all three combined, but I love these boys. Riley in particular is always just so stoked on life. 

Every time I look over at him, he’s grinning from ear to ear and I have no idea what goes on in his head. He also rocks a sweet mullet so how could I not love this kid? Marlow is always without shoes and can’t smile without his tongue hanging out, and Sandy kinda just cruises around, open for any conversation and never turns down a beer. Everything they say ends with “ay?” and it’s become quite contagious around here.  

We’ve only been here a few days and the boys are already walking zombies with bodies sore from head to toe. The other 7 of us in the hostal are getting over a two-day Montezuma’s Revenge and we’re guessing we all ate the same thing but no one is sure. I walked out of my room yesterday on my way to vomit, and Smiley Riley says “WOW you look like shit, ay?” Five hours later, he was in the same boat. Gotta love Mexico.  

Top Left: Riley charging Meat Locker, Andrew scouting the 40ft fall into Silencio
Middle Left: Marlow scouting the 62ft Tomata 1, Boys at Big Banana Falls, Chris at Meat Locker
Bottom Left: Smiley Riley, Marlow 

Mainland Part 1

Aw the dreaded ferry. I made it alive after 18 hours. I only got dizzy once and we slept outside under the stars with fresh air to save both money and the chance for me to lose my dinner. The best part of the ferry was the movie selection. Wow, Mexicans have no boundaries. With more children on board than adults, the movies they played were both Hangovers, and Apocolypto, which they chose to play at breakfast while I ate machaca. Straight up disturbing.

We spent a few days with Jose and Petra who Andrew's dad met about 25 years ago and they've been like family ever since. We did nothing active, ate way too much food, had an unforgettable church experience from the 1950's, saw some crocodiles, and hiked into a waterfall where I was unsuccessful in my cliff jumping and as a result, have a bruise the size of Texas on my leg. 

We didn't spend more than a day in Puerta Vallarta but we did make it to the set of "Predator" where Andrew and Chris took the crowd by surprise and went down the waterfall in front of the restaurant. We also found some puppies and I wanted one so badly until I remembered I'm living in a van for the next five months. We stopped at an overpriced campground, then headed out dark and early the next morning. 

After 14 hours of driving towards San Luis Potosi through crazy Guadalajara, we stopped for some tacos at sundown. We asked the owner if she knew of any good/safe places to camp and instead went in search of her sister, Magdelena, who insisted we stay in her house for the night. She said to come by anytime - just bring wine. I could tell she enjoyed our company as much as we did her hospitality. 

Once in Ciudad Vallez, the boys ran Puente de Dios which is a double tear waterfall and the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. It was surreal and only one of many places I'll get to see in Mexico. We stayed in El Naranjo and camped near the Micos, Minas Viejas, and El Salto which all have their fair share of beauty. Vera Cruz is our next mission and on our way we stopped at the Tajin ruins to break up the 10 hours drive. Once in Vera Cruz it was goodbye tan, hello frizzy hair and mosquitos.

Sugar Cane and Plantains

Running through sugar cane fields in San Luis Potosi is now a memory as I get acquainted with banana tree paradise in Tlapacoyan, Veracruz. The amount of open land in Mexico is beyond what I ever expected to find. At Minas Viejas in SLP, I could run as far as my legs would take me through sugar cane fields and hills overlooking green fields with horses and cows. One of my favorites there was through the fields at Rio Salto, and on our way out of town, we pulled over to the side of the road so I could capture this photo as a memory of that run.

Now in Tlapacoyan, we’ve unloaded the van to get cozy at Adventurec which is the most amazing place for kayakers to post up. Sleeping outside hasn’t been bad, but it’s definitely a treat to have a room with shelter from the rain. Weather here is cooler, yet still humid so the mosquitoes are most abundant and find every exposed part of my body to leave their mark. Besides my unmanageable curly hair, and pink calamine lotion on every piece of clothing, I really like it here and found a run I could definitely get used to. 

I dropped the boys and our new Australian/Kiwi friends off at the top of their kayak run, Big Banana, then parked it to go back and run the trail. It’s 6 miles of straight incline on dirt road surrounded with banana trees. An old lady picking bananas stopped me to ask where on earth I came from and why, the next guy told me I must be a gringa because only gringos were crazy to run, then a truck stopped and the asked if I needed a ride somewhere because apparently no one in these parts has seen people run without running from something. On my return back down the hill, the second guy was waiting for me with two oranges and insisted I ate them to stay nourished. As I ran by with a quick “gracias,” and a giggle, he shook his head in disbelief. I love Mexico. 

When the Boys are Away

If you’re wondering what I do while the boys are kayaking, here it is: drop them off at put-in, wait around for a few hours, pick them up at take-out, drive back up if they want to make the run again, wait another few hours, pick them up. This will go on for the next couple months, and yes, I do it for free with no complaints. Why? Oh please, let me tell you. 

Not only do I get a break from living with boys, I get to explore Mexico. Between yesterday and today, I’ve hiked to secluded pools, ran through sugar cane fields, and right now I’m drinking an ice cold Chelada overlooking a 100 foot waterfall. All these things done in peace and quiet (minus one crazy dog that chased me down in the sugar cane fields yesterday). Rabies shots-- check. 

“To sit in solitude, to think in solitude, with only the music of the stream and the cedar to break the flow of silence, here lies the value of wilderness.” -John Muir

La Chiquita Gordita

How can something I love so much, the one thing I would give anything for, not love me in return? No matter how much I express my constant (ever so constant) unconditional love, all I get is a sick feeling in my stomach and an extra five pounds on my waist line. This is the worst relationship I've ever been in.

No, I’m not talking about my boyfriend. I’m talking about my obsession with Mexican food (specifically, tortillas). 

I’ve always been able to consume copious amounts of food, but as soon as I crossed the border into Mexico, my capabilities somehow increased. It doesn’t help staying with a family who feeds me until I’ve had my fill, then throws in an extra serving on top of that just to make sure. Here is a play-by-play of a day in Aticama:

Morning: Instant Nescafe, eggs, beans, avocado, tortillas, and banana pancakes “solo para probar” (just to try)

Mid-Morning: Machete open some coconuts, lay in a hammock, forget any physical activity

Afternoon: Homemade, oyster enchiladas, followed by an extra made with chicken “solo para probar” 

Early Evening: Walk to el centro, sit on the beach,  4 tostadas, I’m stuffed, I’ll have a magnum chocolate bar

Evening: Watch some telenovelas, eat cookies, escape to my room to keep myself from eating anything more

Here in la casa de Perez, no one goes hungry thanks to my amiga Blanca who won’t eat until everyone has had seconds, then afterwards makes me another pancake so I can sit with her while she eats. They want me to pruebalo “try it” and it’s rude not to try their food, so of course I indulge. 

Apodos, nicknames, are given to everyone in Aticama. El Gordo, El Hippie, La Blanca, La Bebe Fea (most beautiful baby ever), Chuy, and now me, La Chiquita Gordita. In order to build a healthy relationship, I will be taking a break from my beloved up in the mountains of San Luis Potosi and Vera Cruz, where I will trade in the tortillas for quinoa, magnum ice cream bars for vegetables, and hammocks for running shoes. 

But not until after breakfast. We still have a kilo of tortillas to bid adieux.