MTY

I was charged last night with taking out the trash, which had been accumulating for weeks, from the office at 6:40AM this morning, before the arrival of the trucks. It can't go out the night before, of course, because of the wild packs of stray dogs that have taken over most of the city. So last night I put it all on the front stoop, which is gated. I woke up to some sickening smell of putrescence and noticed that some ferric-colored liquid had leaked under the front door into the office. The worst part was that it was from the most recent trash bag from the kitchen. I don't know what everyone was eating here in my absence, but I fear it might be another contributor to the rising sterility levels among males in the world. I'm going back to the mountains. Up there, one good side of their ethic of throwing their trash anywhere is that I don't have to move it around.

Back with Cold Showers.

Except on those rare days where the sun warms up the pipes. No matter, I actually find myself enjoying it at this point - refreshing.


Finally got to run Hydrophobia, a 'non-technical' canyon with plenty of fixed ropes, but a good number of jumps and slides. I nearly tied my record for oldest client (72 y/o) with a couple from Texas (71 and 57). I warned them out the outset, but I believe they thought I might be being age-ist. After the four hours of walking through a rocky stream bed after the canyon, they retracted their statements that fitness would not be an issue. No matter, no one got hurt, we made it. I was somewhat reminded of an episode from my childhood while hiking with a family friend on our property near Fort Loudon, PA. Good times, Good times.

Back working on the canopy tour. I've challenged my nemesis to another flight tomorrow after toying with its lower anchor for a couple of days. Usually, I can set-up and rig a zipline in a day or less. My nemesis and I have been dancing off-and-on for two months. Damned laws of physics.

Keep it running

so due to plane delays and the sort, the group from the States didn't all show up until around 11:00 PM on Thursday. I threw their luggage into my truck, reminiscent of Guadalajara, picked up a fellow guide, and was promptly pulled over by the police. Their claim was that I was driving with my lights off. Right. So they were confiscating my license and telling me that I'd have to go to the HQ the next day to pay some sort of fine and get my license back. That sounded like a grand time, to continue driving for another 4 hours with no license of which to speak - and my flight was leaving in 6 hours...

So we took care of it on the side of the road - $10. Up to the mountains I drove. I returned to Monterrey at 4:00 in the morning, with almost 2 hours before my taxi to the airport - as compared to the 15 minutes from the week before.

No sleep and I continued my streak of sleeping before taking off and waking up on the descent, got to hear people complain about the hassle of flying standby on the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend in Dallas/Fort Worth Int'l. Delayed, I showed up in Bethesda, MD, greeted by tables of endless Blue crab and a couple pounds of Old Bay.

A few hours of sleep and Charley and I spent some time maintaining sanity through humor directed at the expense of others while the girls of the wedding got shoes and other unmentionables. 40 minutes and we were off to the rehearsal dinner. They thought there was no rehearsal involved, so I noted that then it would just be called Dinner.

A few hours of sleep and I was wearing a kippah and sweating in the humidity of the wedding. Apparently enough time has passed and it is now possible to find a Dixie Land Jazz Band, so I foxtrotted the afternoon and evening away.

A few hours of sleep and the buffet. A few hours of sleep and the remaining crew went to a diner where anything that you could imagine, and things that you couldn't imagine can all be ordered. My favorite on the menu was the Tropical Health Salad, which was Jell-O, cottage cheese and a few fruits on a bed of greens. There was an unknown Greek meat dish that joined us on our adventure at Dave & Buster's, an adult version of Chuck-E-Cheese. After we were forcefully asked to leave, the unknown dish was hidden to grow legs and haunt the establishment.

A few hours of sleep and back to Mexico. Back to hanging out in trees tomorrow.

Revolution

Last year I was helping to teach a canyoneering course in Cedar City, UT. This year I played some Diddy Kong Racing (at which I am horrible) and messed around with a plastic chair and a big rubber band.

más ligero

So you board a bus on the American side of the border. But it's really already Mexico, because you better learn some Spanish quickly, as nobody's speaking English anymore. You cross the border and enter customs. Everyone sends their baggage through a machine and then waits in line to push a button below what looks like a traffic light. If the light is green when you press the button, back on the bus you go. If it is red, the customs agent goes through your bag. Guess which color I got. The agent asked why my bag was wet. I told him that I had been out in the rain and pointed outside. Mexico says, "Gracias, Sr. Gringo Obvio."

The bus ride was a hoot. It had been a while since I'd had the chance to see Weekend at Bernie's.

After arriving in Monterrey, Edgar picked me up in his car. A belt had snapped on the engine, so the battery was not recharging. A few miles from the office, the windshield wipers stopped working and the car eventually stalled. In a rainy rush hour, I got to push his car across a couple of lanes to where we could park it. Mexico says, "Bienvenido, le hemos estado esperando."

Chasing Cars

...with a land yacht. Room for 14 hitchhikers to keep me company

1450 miles, two days, and I'm back at the border of the 3rd world. I drove through the devastation that is still Hurricane Katrina. NO is coming back; but, the uninhabited, skeletons of buildings with "HELP" spray painted on the roofs give a saddening reminder.

One hitchhiker had left the hometown of Jerry Falwell, which seemed appropriate. on his way back to West Texas. He had plenty of stories to tell of the people that had picked him up on the initial trip East, including one Vietnam vet driving to go have both of his legs amputated from injuries incurred almost 30 years ago - shadow effects of a war.

Just forget the world.

Wanted:

I need someone to ride in a 4x4 lifted 15-passenger van from near Charlotte, NC, to Laredo, TX, and onward down to Monterrey. The current offer is an all-expense paid trip from Charlotte, including meals and a free plane ticket back to wherever you're living. The only catch is that you need to leave around this Wednesday.

Any takers?



Shop Smart, Shop:



[UPDATE: The Beast is on the road, somewhere in Southern Mississippi. Out of the way Eco-Compact Cars!]

Guadalajara, Guadalajara!

~10 hours South, past the Tropic of Cancer, across more desert, Chuy and I reached the 2nd largest city in Mexico, Guadalajara, the "Silicon Valley of Mexico." Perhaps it's the professions of those there as compared to the industrial Monterrey, but the drivers were somewhat nicer. The learned skill of driving in Monterrey (more on this some other time) seemed to irk many of Guadalajara's inhabitants, but it proved just as effective there.

The next day, the gringos arrived at the airport. We drove way out of our way on our journey to Tecolotlan, but I at least got to eat some tequila ice cream. When we reached Tecolotlan, we were greeted at the town hall by the mayor and the director of the park service. The gringos went to bed, while the Mexicans and I stayed up as you do. We happened to run into the mayor, who proudly proceeded to tell us of the wonders of the dark side of his town. Truly a once in a lifetime experience to have a beer with a mayor while he explicates about everything that would be illegal in the States and then have him pick up the tab. They really threw out the red carpet for us...




Over the next four days, I descended four canyons, with drops up to 100m with some friends in the ACA.







Some gorgeous waterfalls, alot of poison ivy and jejen (biting ferocious nasty little chingaros), and not nearly enough sleep is the general gist.




But the park service shuttled us to the entrance and picked us up at the exits of the canyons everyday (Try to get that to happen in the States. The park rangers said this was completely normal.) The birthplace of mariachi is right around the corner from Tecolotlan, so the second to last night there was the expected party, with a true mariachi band to boot.






By the way, due to my constant consumption of salsas and a couple of other factors, my status has now been elevated to Mexi-gringo.






After some wonderfully, elegantly complicated logistical problems, the gringos got on their planes safely. A few remained, rented a car, and followed Chuy and me in my truck to Tequila, the birthplace, of, well...

->

So off to Cuervo Mundo! The most magical tour of all time, filled with the education of the art of producing and consuming tequila.








[The feeble culture of Cinco de Mayo debauchery in the United States does not impart any knowledge of the craft, except for, perhaps, the experience of waking up soaked in someone else's urine. Cinco de Mayo is any normal day here. People don't go to work or school, but the day has not become a Corona Holiday.]

So, quickly:





-Tequila came to exist when the European knowledge of yeast fermentation and distillation met with the agave wine that the natives had been drinking for centuries.
-The agave requires about 7 years to mature for harvest.
-Approximately 6kg of agave yields 1L of tequila.
-The agave is first cut down to its core (the pineapple)
-It is then burned to enhance the production of the sugars used in fermentation.
-Following fermentation, the product is distilled twice to enhance its purity. At this point it contains approximately 55% alcohol. At this point it is 'consumable.'
-The tequila at this point is clear. It can be watered down to ~45% and sold, or it may be aged.
-Different aging processes (container, time) change the qualities of the beverage. In general, the longer the aging process, the smoother the tequila, but the flavor and spiciness changes as well.
-The general tequila used for mixing was produced by sugars which 51% originate from the agave. Who knows where the remaining sugars come from.
-100% agave tequila should never be mixed. If you have friends that insist on doing so, please remove them from your address book.
-The name tequila can only be applied to the beverage if it is cultivated in a limited number of areas, all centered around the state of Jalisco.
-Finally, for an extremely nice bottle of tequila, you could spend well over $100. Or you can go down the road to where you buy it in jugs and get 5L for about $20.






Well, back in Monterrey. Back to working on the canopy tour tomorrow...

Pinche Caminetta

Those familiar with canyoneering, know that 99% of the time you have to drive on an extremely shitty road to access the approach for a canyon. I'd say the top three roads are the one to Icecube near Vegas, and both the roads for Rumarossa and Matacanes down here in Mexico. The latter is the one we get to drive clients on at 5 in the morning every weekend. Just that is an adventure for them, and inevitably one will ask, "What happens when you run into another vehicle coming the other way?", as the roads are really one lane, with a 100m drop on one side and a wall on the other. Usually it's not a problem...

Background: On Friday, I got to drive that truck and that climbing wall around Monterrey in rush hour on the busiest streets for about 4.5 hours. After we dropped it off, we stopped for some food and I was beginning to feel a little ill: flu-like. But we made it back to the Hotel in Santiago with no problems, drank some beer and went to bed. I was supposed to sleep in and have a day off on Saturday.

I got a phone call at 8:30AM, saying that I had to drive to Las Adjuntas (a little under half way on the road to Matacanes). OK, feeling worse, off I went. After ripping out the back of my truck, I made the drive from the hotel in 25 minutes (pretty good with fully inflated tires). There I met Paulo and Edgar, the two guides for the day and all of the clients.

What happened: They were almost to Potrero Redondo (beginning of the hike to Matacanes), when they ran into a vehicle coming down the last incline of the road. That truck didn't stop, so Edgar backed up and got to the side of road as best as he could. Unfortunately, the brake line blew out, and the truck rolled backwards, hitting the wall, and flipped on its side with everyone inside except for Paulo, who jumped off the back.



So back in Las Adjuntas: All six clients and Edgar were in my truck (with all of the equipment) and it was full. We tied the lifejackets up on the top through the windows of the extended cab. Paulo sat on top like my truck was a horse. About a kilometer from the hotel we got stopped by the transit police. We sat around for a half hour. Edgar was arrested for no reason (extortion, corruption, even the beaners get it. I think the people in the police are those guys that got picked on at school). So without Edgar we went to the hospital near Monterrey. 2.5 hours later (I slept a little), we headed back, Chuy paid off the police ($1500 pesos) and Edgar was free, and we went to eat. Free Bungee jumps for clients!

So the good news: I don't have to drive that pinche caminetta anymore.




Yesterday, Paulo and I put up a new zipline in Monterrey. This park where it's at is pretty amazing. It's all on this old industrial area, so all of this machinery is around. Then there's an art cinema, which has great pictures from the '20s and '30s of Cola de Caballo (where the hotel is) and all of the mountains and everything around Monterrey before they decided to put unfinished buildings everywhere. I'm planning on going back for a day to get pictures...

Off to Guadalajara (the town of Tequila is right nearby) tomorrow. One week.

Fiebre de las chavas

Otro cheve, otra chava
Necesito en mi cama

Sí quieres a entender esta, entonces tienes que aprender español:

Primero: Finalamente tengo un móvil. ¡Yo lo tengo! El numero es: 811 075 65 44
No se cual numeros salvos estos, pero creo que es facil. Y Yo no se cuanta cuesta a llamar, pero prueba. Creo que es listo a comprar una tarjeta telefónica.

My Spanish can be summed up with this phrase: Free whole eat toes. But it’s coming along. I can swear with the best of them and talk all day about cables and ropes. If anyone from the continent that stole our name ever makes fun of you for not being able to roll your Rs, have them try to say any word that starts with ‘th’.

Now if only the Norwegian would leave me alone. It’s still lodged way back there, and too many simple words mean completely different things between the two languages.

Get used to salsa. Good to keep Pepto and A/D around, as everything comes with salsa. Even toilet paper. It’s a vicious cycle. And there’s simply one cultural tic here that I just can’t do. Can’t do it. Nope. Sorry. Oh, and I’m now available for children’s parties.

I’m leaving for Guadalajara on Tuesday, after I drive that damned climbing wall around a little more. Pinche caminetta. Pinche pared. Jodidas de mierda.

When I get some better interwebbenservice, I'll get some pictures of the recent construction (much rigging), and the next set of canyon photos.

A veces

My head. My poor head. Full of words with horrible grammar and syntax.

Potpourri

I wanted to talk about living in Mexico. I wanted to talk about driving in Monterrey and going to a bar to play pool where there was karaoke. I wanted to talk about learning Spanish. But my English is now beginning to fail me. So, look at these... There are more, but from Zach's camera, and there will be no more filching.

Rumarosso

Matacanes, one of the canyons I'm guiding, is rarely descended in its entirety due to its length and difficulty. 10 hours, ~6.5 miles, ~5000' elevation change, a couple of tunnels, two caves, about 16 rappels and at least as many jumps later...












And we've been working on the canopy tour.




Plenty more canyons to go...
Finally, Pinche Verizon Punjatero!

Chipitin

Made it. I'm alive.

Phoenix eschewal

The photo shoot for Moosejaw has come and gone. Hauling models up rock faces might make up for not getting the chance to kick James Bond's ass. I feel like I've peaked here. Time to pull up the stakes and find the location in the pictures. I've got mesh bags. Inside of those - more mesh bags. And yes, inside those...


Thanks, Chuy, for the photos.




And for those that care, the phone will remain active. Imagine that.

Kloof