How to make the summer hotter? Go to the desert!

My air conditioning works somewhat -- as those who have helped transport my car back and forth across the continent can attest -- and I'm dripping before making it out of Glendale. There is a fear, there has been in fact, considering that I've toyed with the idea of driving into Mexico times before. The State Department, with all its advisories, paints the picture that Americans driving in Mexico will be carjacked, robbed, or, at the very least, pulled over by a corrupt police officer looking for a bribe. I felt like it was going to be safer walking around this country than driving. Human interference aside, I must note that I was also determined to go on a desert road-trip in the middle of summer, so fears also presented themselves relating to flat tires, mechanical failure, dehydration, etc. One can only be so prepared before going into battle, however, and my 14 liters of water and I set off on a southbound route.


Any of my trips would be extremely different depending on it being solo or partnered. I've found that the more I do with people, the fewer photos I take and the less my inspired writing occurs. This is not to fault company, as I have plenty of lovely memories with those around, but it grows apparent that I work on a different pacing and perhaps a riskier approach to things when only my life is on the line. I would not have expected many to go along with my "I think I'll take a side route of 70 km on somewhat developed roads with the heater on full blast and the windows down", but it makes for good times!


Quick items of note:

• Lewis Prison: I imagine being in prison sucks. I would guess it is significantly worse being in prison in the middle of the desert.
• Military jets were cruising over me a few times at roughly 80-100' altitude. They must have lost their keys or something for them to be looking at the ground that closely.

Enrique. What's there to say about a man who starts by advertising sunset cruises but quickly segues into pharmaceuticals, non-pharmaceuticals, and company of the female sort? He was really friendly and gave me lots of good information about the region. First pimp experience: Nice guy (even though I wasn't a customer)


And here I am. A new country. A new body of water to dip my toes into. It's all the same water, technically, as the molecules drift their way along their global trek. You might notice that I don't have any ocean sunset shots from this trip. I floated my way offshore a couple hundred yards and opted to relax. Whiles the images were beautiful, it is important to remove yourself from behind the lens (or whatever metaphorical comfort spot fits you) once in a while. I truly relaxed out there, floating on my back, arms crossed behind my head as if I were lying on my bed. Again, I thought about fears, primarily of the unknown or unseen. I know that many would question my safety out there, worrying about the predators of the sea. Similar questions arose on my first scuba night dive. "Aren't you worried about what you can't see?" It's the same during the day, for my eyes only see what is in front of me. If something gets me  from behind or beneath (as this situation would have been)...well, these things happen. I can't live in a manner that I avoid experiences because of the maybe. An outboard motor dragging a banana boat breaks my concentration. Like a sea otter, I continue floating on my back, watching the clouds change colors as the sun drops on the water. 


There was a point I wished I had my camera. Not for the sun, as I have more than enough ocean sunset shots, but for the lighting on the water. This unique vantage point kept the purples, oranges, and dark blues reflecting on the water's surface much longer than I've seen from land, and the glow on my hands and toes as they breached, creating ripples through the surface, is an image I won't soon forget.


I stayed floating there until the stars came out above me.