Month: April 2019

When I told my friends and coworkers I was going to vacation in Mexico, they nodded in an understanding way and asked, “Where in Mexico? Cancun?” Well, not exactly.

This was a vacation with a mission. A misscation. Edgar has some… let’s call them “extra” surfboards that he wanted to take to his rental house in Mexico, where guests could use them. The airline wanted $150 per board to fly them down there. We did the math and a new plan emerged… drive the boards down to Sayulita.

Houston to Sayulita is about 1,139 miles give or take, so about 21 hours of driving. That’s an average, but we were going to take Edgar’s 1992 Land Cruiser, and although it’s very reliable and roomy, it’s no speed demon. It’s a cruiser. We planned for three days down and three days back. We wanted our trip to be tranquillo, so we loosely planned out the stops without making a firm booking. After all, this wasn’t our first Mexico road trip. Edgar and I drove a baja bug down from California to Baja Mexico and across on the ferry to the mainland last year. (You can read about that journey here.) Edgar took his motorcycle down on one journey and back on another, and the Land Cruiser spent some time there over Thanksgiving a couple years ago. This wasn’t new territory, and what’s more, it sounded like fun to us, so we packed up a backpack each, and filled the rig with boards.

We left Houston on a Saturday morning, planning to spend the bulk of the day in Rockport, Texas, working on Edgar’s boat. He recently purchased a 40-foot trawler, and it’s been pulled out of the water for some TLC.

We spent a few hours working in the engine room and driving around town for parts. We paused for lunch at a place on the water serving chips and queso and oysters. (not combined) In the early evening, it was time to make our way to Laredo, which feels as much like Mexico as any city can, without the visit with the federal agents. We’ve done our research over the years, and always cross the border at daylight. We found a place to stay and a restaurant down the street. The order of mango habanero wings looked great, but when I took a bite I shot hot chicken habanero sauce directly into my eye, and it burned like fire. I had to rush to the restroom to rinse out my eyeball before I could get back to my meal.

After dinner we settled in for a good night’s sleep, our last one for a while on this side of the border.

On Day Two, we cross the border, hand out our first mordida of the trip, and run into a couple of dudes who claim they’re with the cartel.