Our Journey

Our Journey begins in San Jose, Costa Rica, where an interesting group of characters from around the globe found eachother and as

decided to take an epic bus journey from Los Angeles to Panama. What began as no more than driving a bus to Costa Rica, eventually snowballed into our current occupation as independent surf film makers.

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4.25.08 - We got out of Popoyo at a reasonable hour in the morning and headed for the border. These fucking borders. We weren't that far from the border, so we were wishfully thinking that we might be able to make it to Nosara in the same day. Right. We pulled into the Nicaraguan side of the border crossing, and it was instant shit show. Place was a fucking yard sale. Trucks parked everywhere, so much that from the sky it probably looked like a spilled box of matches. I navigated the red tape without too much difficulty though. When it was time to leave, about an hour later, we were allowed to cut in front of all the trucks and head straight to the front. Being a bus apparetly has some small advantages in some places.

When we got to the Tico side, it took forever. Of course the customs guys all went to lunch at the same time, so everyone has to wait for them. Actually, Costa Rica had very little paperwork compared to the other countries we had to enter, but the lines where long and slow moving. The heat was definitely increasing as well.

We got out of the border area and headed to Liberia. Making it to Nosara from the border wasn't really realistic. We holed up in the Hotel Guanacaste, a haunt that I've crashed in before. Cheap, clean, has a bar. We parked the bus in their lot and went for dinner and ice cream. We all crashed out pretty early.

4.24.08 - Woke up this morning and Laura and I decided that it would be a good idea if we started tying it on at 8:30 AM. What else is there to do. We met some gringos. Heard plenty of Brophesisms. "perfect A frames brah", "Brahhhh, it was sick brah" etc. We started speaking in brophus as well. "I'm thisrty, I could use a broca brola." You get the idea. Anyway the boys and Courtney had a surf in the afternoon. Popoyo is gorgeous and cheap, and because of Lake Nicaragua, the wind is always offshore.

4.23.08 - Through the course of the evening, our living situation got progressively worse. The guard wanted to charge us for parking, which we paid double what he asked. Then he wanted to charge us for guarding the bus, then he wanted to charge us more for using the shitter. I told him no way, so I think in his way of retalliation, he woke me up at 5:30 AM and said we had to move. I wanted to crush his head with one of our heavy solar showers. I moved the bus onto the public street and went back to sleep. He woke me up again. I said we would be leaving in 10 minutes, and 15 minutes later this asshole comes back. I didn't even acknowledge him, started the bus and headed south.

We made to to Managua with no problems, but I was kind of a zombie behind the wheel. We got pulled over by the first transit cop we saw, and he wasn't happy with me. He asked me to get down from the bus, but in my state of mind I didn't respond. He actually blew his traffic whistle and pointed his finger at me like I was a street animal. I got down from the bus where he proceeded to rip me a new asshole because we don't have insurance. No one at the border mentioned it, so ignorance is bliss. Anyway, he threatened to impound the bus and take my license. Somehow, with no money exhanging hands, we went from that to laughing and the guy drawing me a fucking map of the fastest way to Rivas. We left Managua without getting insurance. We got stopped a few more times, but playing dumb gringo worked fine and we made it all the to Rivas and the turn off for Popoyo.

When we hit the road to Popoyo, we really had no idea how far it really was, but it was far, and the dirt road was one of the worst we had taken on so far. Eventually we made it to Popyo and to a house that rented rooms for cheap right on the beach. We inbibed heavily in beer and rum and crashed out.

4.22.08 - This morning we got up with not much haste, but that's nothing new for us. Today was going to be what I was framing to be one of the worst days of my life. Leaving El Sal, entering Honduras, leaving Honduras and entering Nicaragua all in one day.

After a couple of hours, and scoring some Burger King and Wendy's (yeah, we had missed that stuff slightly) we made it to the border. Everyone and their grandmother must hang out at the borders in El Salvador, because that's where we saw the most people. As we enter the area of the highway that was probably more than likely the point of no return for the border, there are people waving at us, yelling, they want money for us to "guide" them through the border process. fuck that. Where I come from you have to earn your money with a little more effort than that. I passed 5 guys, at good speed, and everyone in the bus was asleep pretty much. I swirved a bit, making a half-hearted attempt to hit one guy with the front quarter panel of the bus, and everyone came awake. Just as Nolan and DP were coming out of their slumber, I was pulling out the 2 inch diameter dowel, that we had wrapped a makeshift handle for defense. Nolan promptly grabbed a hammer and DP took the lead pipe that we had snagged from a trailer park in Zihuatenejo. These guys we passed actually got into a car and came up along side of us and then in front of us. They threw their hazard lights one (how courteous) and stopped almost in the middle of the road and all got out. I had to slow down to avoid the semis parked along the entire right length of the road, but we managed to fit between the car and the trucks. Frankly if we couldn't fit, their Corolla was going to lose two doors and a mirror at the least. When I slowed down, that was when it got even more fun. The guys started running along both sides of the bus, even though they could easily see that we were in no mood to talk with them. On each side of the engine compartment on the outside, there are metal steps, so you can get a better view. These guys took advantage of those, and grabbed the side mirrors of the bus abd stood on those. On my side this douche bag was about 18 inches from me. I opened the window and I can't remember what I said but, he didn't get the picture. The whole time this is happening I'm slowly accelerating. In one quick movement I slammed on the heavy air brakes of the Blue Bird that have gotten us this far and it looked like a yard sale. Shit went everywhere. Neither guy hanging on came off the bus, but they eventually just hopped off now that we weren't moving, but the whole modified interior of the bus was severely rattled. The right side bunks were heavily damaged, and most of the passengers had slid forward a few feet at the very least. getting closer to the border I had to give two more assholes a rub with the fender. When I'm out of the bus, everyone calls me friend or cousin, and I don't know why but I just want to kick everyone last one in the head when they do. We actually left El Salvador with minimal hassle. We had to pay to get out, $2 each, and I had to go into the office so they could look at our papers. When we got to the Honduras side, that was when the real shit show started.

We parked the bus to the side of the "administration" building, and I went hunting to do the paper work. I quickly discovered that the electricity was out. I talked to the chief of whatever they call the zoo their running and he told me I needed a 91-A form. Mission begins. I go to one window to get the form, back to another to get copies, back to the first window, back for more copies, then I have to go to another window to pay something, and of course they are all out to lunch. I have become convinced that if border crossing paperwork were eliminated in Central America, it would make a noticeable dent in the decreased rate of deforestation.

Anyhow, these geniuses came back from lunch, then I had to go to a bank. Then I had to see another supervisor (none of this is embellished, really) who was out to lunch. I had to stare down some fuckers trying to cut in front of me, which was easy considering the heat and my mood. Cro-magnon man in front of me moved aside. The supervisor came back, and no shit, I had to see another guy who had to look at the bus AGAIN, and then, finally, after a couple of hours we were allowed to leave the border area for the shithole landmass that is Honduras.

We drove along and survived a few checkpoints and then this giant asshole of a police officer got on fishing for a bribe right away. Apparently we needed to have reflective tape on the side of the bus. fucker. We coughed up $30 and moved on. We got stopped again, but this time it was my seatbelt, I wasn't wearing it. I looked at the guy and said how the hell am I supposed to stick my head out the window to hear you mumble with my seatbelt on, of course I had taken it off. He said he would have to right me a ticket. Fine with me I said, looking at the pile of shit in the eyes, let's go down to the station, you can write me a ticket and a receipt, and I want your name and number (He may have thought I was hitting on him there, because I don't know how to say badge in Spanish.) He gave the oldest guy there a look and said talk to him. He looked at my papers and said go ahead.

When we arrived at the border, of course I had filled out the completely wrong form when we entered the country. It's like no one knows what they are really doing. I had to do some more bullshit paper work, copies and pay some more cash to get out of Honduras. By now it was near sunset.

we went down the hill into Nicaragua, immigration was a cinch. Some asshole customs guy said I would have to pay $80 for a formal letter for the bus, and I would have to go have it done by a private agency. When Jane and I found the head guy he said no way, did our paperwork which cost nothing and we were in. Interestingly, the guy that said it was $80 and I needed this document, had disappeared. We drove to the nearest town and parked at the central market for the night for like $3, headed out for some beers and dinner and called it a night.

4.21.08 - We did NOTHING all day but lay in the huge pool, alone. Ate at Luis's place again in the evening.

4.20.08 - We got up pretty early, and even though my head was in a fog of Tequilla, I went out with Janey to shoot some video. Jimmy came out actually later than we did, but I got some good shots of Tilo and Nolan. Right after I packed it up and started heading back in, Nolan dropped in on a local who proceeded to try to stab him in the throat with his board and then took a swing at him. Nolan readily blocked the punch with his intense skills learned when he was head of security at Hostel Bekuo, put his leg between his legs, and paddled in.

We talked to this Gringo Noah, who interestingly was bitten by a shark that morning, and he told us about this beach down south near El Cuco that was supposed to be amazing and have good waves, and some cabinas on the beach for $15 a night. We thought that sounded pretty rad and headed out.

The drive was a good distance, and the road got kinda shitty when we got off the main highway and headed to El Cuco, but nothing the Blue Bird couldn't handle. We got into El Cuco and turned toward the beach. As I was trying to squeeze the bus between another bus parked on the right, and a house on the left, a little girl in one of those pushing rik-sha fucking things mosied right out in between us and the other bus. I proceeded to forget about the house with the overhanging roof to my left and gave the sheet metal a really good bend with my left mirror. I looked out the window at this old woman who was just sitting there, selling vegetables from her porch. I couldn't really read her face, but she said nothing. I pulled the bus up and off to the side and went back to apologize and hopefully just bend the roof back to it's original shape. I told her how sorry I was and she started cursing out the bus driver that was parked across the street. Apparently in her logic, it was his fault, as he's not supposed to park there any way. Works for me, sayanora. We got back in the bus and headed up a shitty dirt road towards the beach at Las Flores. When we got there, the place was far from awesome. It was average, but we've all lived in some of the nicest beaches in Central America, so we're a bit spoiled. We couldn't find a place to stay, and the $15 a night cabins were full, so we resolved to head back to El Cuco.

When we got back into town, we eventually found a hotel that had room to park the bus inside their walled compound, and had AC and cable, and a pretty kick ass swimming pool for $30 a night. Deal. We met the owner, another Tilo, he offered to buy the bus off of me. He also offered to put my bus driving skills to shame by telling me that if I couldn't get the bus in his driveway, that he would teach me. Tilo had apparently driven a bus for 20 years or so.

It was already dark when we got there, but it was hot out and we all had a dip in their massive, 8 foot deep throughout swimming pool. Seemed like we were the only ones there and we were going to enjoy it.

Later in the evening we went to look for some eats. Me made the mistake of asking for food a funeral parlor. There were a lot of people sitting around eating and drinking, so I think that distracted us from the massive red sign. Somone pointed us in the direction of a good place, where our host Luis hooked us up with some great Papusas, fish and chicken. The portions were huge. Luis added to the fun because he literally rocked one of the finest mullets any of us had seen. If Billly Ray Cyrus has a Latin twin, he's in El Cuco, El Salvador.

4.19.08 - We lounged around in the morning and eventually decided to leave El Zonte and hit up La Libertad and Punta Roca. When we arrived in La Libertad, which wasn't much of a drive actually. We found a place to crash for just $3 a night, because the bus is just too hot these days to sleep on. The waves were working, but jesus there are a lot of people in the water. The town is actually very small for being one of the larger towns in El Salvador. We ran into this guy Tilo that had been in El Zonte as well. boys went out for an afternoon session, and Jimmy Rotherham was in the water, doing a little ripping.

In the evening we all had dinner, beer and a bottle of Cuervo in the Rotherham's restaurant.

4.18.08 - Today we had some eats and hung around. We moved across the street to this other guys place that was cheaper, had a pool, nice roms, and he was an all around cool guy. If you're ever in el Zonte, stay at Alex's place. Janey and I took some photos and video of the local surfers. We noticed the Jorges and Teco drinking beer with breakfast at 6:30 AM.

Basically today was a day of leisure. Later on in the evening, Laura Courtney and I put on some boob tube for the first time in a while and vedged out.

4.17.08 - We rose relatively early this morning and left Antigua. I didn't want to be driving around in the hustle and bustle of antigua with it's narrow streets in this 35 foot long, non-turning metal bitch. we made it out of town no problem and back to the glossy blacktop highway and headed straight for the border. There were actually signs that said "El Salvador Border". Amazing. Simply Amazing. Quite the step up from previous border finding ventures. Actually crossing the border was a different story.

When we got there, there was a very helpful young man, who's job it was I presume to help people figure out this cluster fuck that we were staring at. The mix of semis on either side of the border crossing office looked like a slightly organized matchbox collection withthe differing styles, colors, and trailers donning US companies that had probably long since sold the used equipment. I grabbed what is the usualy paperwork; passport, title, forged registration, license, a stack of shit from Guatemala, etc. Went in to aduanas, where of course I waited at the window for someone to actually appear and begin working. My suspicions rang true when 5 people came in and were all texting away on their fucking cell phones. The frantic-text-messaging-all-day phenomenon had apparently spread to these parts as well. Between every stamp or entance keyed into the computer, there is an answer and a reply to someone on the other end of their electronic leash. I can't say I don't so it, but it's usually in the realm of being incredibly intoxicated and my speech is impaired enough to be undeciferable. It also keeps a record of what you said, in case you can't recall. Good and bad I guess. Any way, finally the guy told me something I heard before, "that's a bus". No shit. "You can't import a bus". You don't say. he was pretty cool about it though and grabbed a supervisor and we trotted out to the lot and showed him how masterfully we had converted the bus into a motor home, and that was good enough for him. To make a long story short, I didn't wait in line once, during what was a nearly two hour paperwork marathon. I must have walked a mile between 2 buildings that were only 50 feet apart, back and fucking forth. I started looking for the hidden camera van. Temper rises, and anyone standing close enough could have heard me cursing El Salvador after only being there 30 minutes.

We eventually crossed into El Salvador, and headed down the coast. We made it to a little beach community called Zonte, and parked the bus in the side of the road, not far from the beach. We worked a deal with a small hotel next door, that if we ate or drank $5, we could use the pool, showers and shitter. He obviously didn't know this crew, $5 was up in about 15 minutes. We started making friend fast. There was Jorge and Jorge, Salvadorian father and son that had been living in Jersey since the war here. There was Teco, the local and supposedly the first to surf there. There was Francisco. There were several more. Jorge senior fell out of his chair, followed by his son 30 seconds later, and it's all on film, pretty funny. We drank and hung out late into the evening. Eventually it was just Courtney and I hanging around the pool, when we witnessed our first attempted murder of the trip. A kid, probably about 14, came out of fucking nowhere weilding a machete and took a shot at Teco. For some reason, possibly drugs or alcohol blurring his concentration, the kid missed the death strike and hit Teco in the back, barely cutting him. A struggle insued, and Teco being not much bigger, but stronger and certainly wiser in these matters, gave the kid two solid head butts. Although, he kind of knocked himself out. The kid has lost his grasp of the machete, and resorted to pushing Teco into the pool, where he sunk like a rock. Kid bolts. Jorge and Jorge pull Teco out of the pool, and when he comes too, he's laughing. Crazy mother fuckers. apparently no one knew who the kid was or why this had transpired.

4.16.08 - We decided this morning that we would leave around noon for Chichicastenango, just to see the legendary Mayan Market. we started asking around though and the word was that with the hairpin switchbacks, we would probably not make it in the bus. So we opted to head for Antigua.

The roads in Guatemala have been pretty awesome so far and the route to Antiuga was no exception. glistening blacktop with no fucking speed bumps. We picked up a woman on the way while we were asking for directions, she was heading to Antigua anyway, and she guided us right into town and onto the main road where we dropped her off, she was very sweet. By chance we found our way into an empty dirt lot which was normally used for market, but was going to be empty until late at night. Coincidentally the volunteer fire department was there as well, and they said they would watch the bus for us, and that we could use their bathroom. Who would have thought that our number one priority would be a shitter in pretty much every place we go. Things like that escaped me before we left the States.

We went for some food, the town was bustling quite a bit more than I remember from 8 years ago when I went to visit my mother there, who was living in Antigua at the time. We found a chinese restaurant, and I think everyone was in the mood for something besides tacos, or whatever the fare has been these days. The food was decent and filling for 30 minutes, as all chinese food is.

We had a stroll back to the bus through the market and slept fairly early and had an uneventful evening.

4.15.08 - Woke up this morning after a pretty laid back evening. But had I known what our day would entale I may have just stayed in bed (not really). We're still in Panajanchel, place is great. So we kind of went our separate ways in the morning. I went with DP and Janey to have a look at the Lake and take some shots. Gorgeous place, really is. We wanted to get some T-shirts that said "no gracias" on them though, because of all the people peddling. You literally have to tell them no 20 times, and it gets tiring, but we try to be kind about it.

Eventually we met up with Courtney and Laura in this bar they found with some pretty cheap booze. So DP, Janey, Court, Laura and I are sitting there and this British guy roles up, probably in his 40's (actually I think he said he was 41). He had the stereo typical British dental hygene, he was gassed, but absolutely fucking hilarious. His one liners were like stand up and would just go on and one, we were dying. We ended up boozing with this guy all day. Apparently he joined the French Foreign Legion when he was 19 and now he's a hired gun in Iraq, Afganistan, wherever. If you met him you owuldn't even question it, guy was crazy. Claimed to have killed 12 people with his bare hands. Eventually we made it over to his apartment, which was pretty nice for about $100 a month, really nice. nicer than the shitholes I lived in in college. Things got pretty interesting, and after a few beers, if I didn't know better, I would have thought that I was on the set of scarface and Jim the mercenarie was Pacino. Without the guns. DP, Janey and Laura actually ended up crashing in the guys apartment, since he had an extra bed and pretty much anything beats the beds in the bus.

4.14.08 - This morning we left San Cristobal de Las Casas. I actually woke up at 6:30 and just started driving as I didn´t want there to be a lot of traffic as I didn't need to hit another car. We left town without incident (I think) and headed for the border. What a shit show. Not one sign that said "border" (frontera) nothing. But why would there be? That would be way too easy- We got lost for about an hour but eventually found the border. We parked the bus and started all the unnecesary paperwork. We all had to pay except Laura, somehow she slipped through the endless beauracracy. When we got to the Guatemalan border, which was actually about a mile from the Mexican border crossing, someone sprayed our bus with something, and I had to pay fuck knows how much. But importing the vehicle was lightning quick. No forged documents, no haggling, no bribes. I paid like $9 for the permit and we were in. No one even looked on the bus. We were now on the Pan American highway, which in Guatemala is just a road and apparently a narrow one, lined with colorful shops peddling all sorts of wares.

We decided that we were going to try to make it to Lake Atitlana and Panijanchel. But Guatemala doesn't observe day light savings, and we have realized that the headlights on the bus only work when on high beams, so we try not to drive at night time. The road was winding and the trip was long, about 12 hours today, but we eventually made it to Panajanchel. In the town just before it, trying to make a turn, we nearly hit two separate buildings and bottomed out the back end, all at the same time. I'm not looking forward to the drive out. We eventually found out we could park at the Texaco station for 20 Quetzales, about $2.80. Great shitter. We hwent out for dinner, where we scored ridiculously good food for cheap. $10 for a Filet Mignon I couldn't finish. I think DP had pork chops for $4 and couldn't finish it either. We called it an early night and enjoyed our slumber with gasoline fume fueled dreams.

4.13.08 - This morning we left Juchitan. We were pretty pleased with our stop here even if there wasn't a beach. This town is definitely underrated. We drove today all the way to this town called San Cristobal de las Casas. When we arrived, we got lost in town which is pretty much expected now, however knowing that we're going to get lost doesn't lessen my frustration. As we were getting lost we turned into the old part of town, and I mean fucking old. The church here was built in 1546 and the size of the streets reflects that. There were some instances where DP had to get out of the bus and direct me from the front, because that fit was so tight. eventually we found a spot to park, just on the inner edge of the old quarter, right in front of the cathedral. We found a pretty nice hostel but opted to just stay in the bus. The weather is a lot cooler here, as we are over 2600 meters in altitude. We went walking around the old town and it's pretty awesome. Sometime later in the afternoon Nolan found me on the street with bad news; apparently I put some racing stripes on the side of someones car and didn't even notice. Cherry on top: The guy is a Federali, and a Detective to boot. DP arrived soon there after said A) I have to pay $300 for the damage B) We have to move the bus and C) I'm getting a ticket for hitting the guy. Great. I went to the ATM to withdraw the necessary payoff funds and went back to the bus. I didn't even look at the guys car as I can take Dustins word that we did indeed hit it and he had already been waiting for an hour. He was very understanding and not too upset, and shit he's a cop so I can't really haggle him down can I? He took the cash right there on the street in plain sight of the traffic cops who were patiently waiting their payoff. The cop left and I got in the car with the transit cops. Originally I was going to go to the station and pay an actual ticket, but when I was told it was kinda far, I said fuck it, it's payoff time. The guys said they would make it cheap for me, just $30. What can I say, I did sideswipe someones car and leave a yellow stain along the side. I dropped the money on the floor and got out. We had to move the bus to the opposite side of the street, and they were nice enough to stop traffic. They were all actually really nice, and just wanted a couple of bucks.

Today is Laura's birthday, so we decided to party again. We found an awesome bar with an incredible band, kick ass service and $1.50 beers and cocktails. The booze were flowing fast and loose and pretty soon everyone was dancing. We met this guy that was a mathmatician for Goldman Sacks, and he actually wrote an algorithm on a napkin explaining why the band wasn't that good. Sounded good to me. they gave Laura some love for her birthday. Eventually Courtney and I were the only two people left in the bar and they actually had to ask us to leave after they had stacked all the chairs. We got back to the yellow bitch around 4:30 AM.

4.12.08 - We left Puerto Escondido after a fairly uneventful evening. I crashed early and I think the rest of the crew hit one bar and was done. We made an arduous journey to a town called Juchitan. We did have an interesting meeting with a "Tope" or speed bump. I mexico Topes are the equivelent of a coherent statement by Mike Tyson, random with no purpose and seemingly out of nowhere. The only exception is that topes are very frequent. I was driving along, and of course there-s no sign and the tope isn't painted or anything, and I that fucking thing so hard the front tires left the ground. We carried enough momentum to get the back tires airborne as well. Nolan went from sleeping, to having his hip lodged in the bunk above hi, That's about 2 1/2 feet of air. Pretty sure dropped a gear out of the tranny or something as we've lost some uphill power, but I was pleasantly surprised that the engine didn-t drop right out of the bus. Fucking Topes.

The town had no beach but it was a stopping point after a long day of driving. Actually a pretty big town, and we discovered that there was quite the festival kicking off when we arrived. The central aquare was full of people, bands, food, everything. Great timing. We found a cheap hotel so we could all shower and shit. Yes, girls do poop. We hit up a restaurant and then found an awesome bar called El Jardin. What we discovered in this town is that they feed you for free. You drink and they bring you endless appetizers. We all commented on how if we lived here you could just go out to a bar and eat bocas all day. This place, El Jardin, and an awesome live band. The bass player was pretty impressive. We drank and drank, and eventually nolan, DP, Courtney and I were left. I think we closed the bar down, but my memory of this part of the night is fuzzy. Me and the boys crashed in the hotel room and left the ladies to fend for themselves in the bus. We have been blessed that so far in Mexico, we have benn able to leave that thing locked up and unattended for hours at a time, with no problems.

4.11.08 - This morning we got out of bed to have a look at the Mexican Pipeline that is Puerto Esconcido. we had a lok at the surf, and it was definitely not huge, but it wasn't small. The break still threw out some massive barrels. Nolan decided he would hit the surf. He got out there and caught a few waves, actually it was really just him and anothe gringo catching waves. He pulled an air off the lip after his first wave and soon there after noticed that he was bleeding from above his eye. Aparently when he came down his knee hit his head and cut him deep. I told him I was pretty sure that he needed stitches.

Everyone referred us to Dr. Pepe. We found out where his office was and headed up the hill. His name was really Dr. Pepe, as was apparent the wall he painted that said "Doctor Pepe: gynocologist". It was painted like a Mexican body shop too, plenty of unecessary flare.

We got inside and the staff attended to Nolan fairly quickly, and gave him 4 stitches for $40. So far, three of us have been to the hospital in Mexico for various reasons, and have all had relatively good experiences. Unfortunately, Nolan cannot surf for 8 days. They also shaved off part of his eyebrow, which really just doesn-t look right.

4.06.08 - We left Ticla today for a place that wasn't too far, called Nexpa. It was about two hours down the road and we narrowly avoided getting the ass end of the bus stuck on a hard core hair pin turn, but we made it. DP was driving, but when we came to some hairy off road shit, I took over so I wouldn't be pissed at anyone but myself for getting the yellow bitch stuck. When I got passed the shitty spot we were basically in the beginning of "town". I stopped and Nolan went to check on some rates. As we were sitting there, a ford explorer full of San Quentens most recent parollees pulles up and I'm in the way of course. This guy, who looks like that mexican bad ass froom dusk til dawn, but has silver teeth to booth and gold chains like Mr. T, gets out of the car and comes over and starts waiving me to park. I move the bus enough for the car to get by, but apparently that's sub-par. He comes over to the door, asks me what is wrong with me, tells me that he runs the shit in town, and that I am going to park where he tells me to, so I comply.

Eventually we move the bus further down closer to the beach and meet all of our new neighbors. We have three dudes from the bay area, some Israeli, and then Juan and Stefan pull in as well, so it feels pretty cool down there. The wind is howling, so no surf in the afternoon. Just lounging and drinking.

4.05.08 - Woke up this morning to some great waves, and about 40 people in the water. The cool thing about Mexico is that no one surfs, they just sit in the water, so Nolan and DP take all the waves they want, along with some other imported talent.

Later in the day DP and I got over charged for ice. Dustin was ok with that as he reasoned that in 5 years some gringo would buy this old hags store and blow all the money on rims for her son or something. I thought that was about spot on.

4.03.08 - We left Barra de Navidad and headed for a place called La Ticla, which apparently is one of Mexico's best breaks. When we got there we weren't too disappointed. Huge waves, with a lot of take off points. The wind was a bit heavy, but it died out in the afternoon and in the morning. We found a spot nearly on the beach, and paid something for some bathrooms and showers. The shitters were actually sparkling clean, which has been rare in mainland Mexico. I don't know what their secret is but it works. There was a small shop right next to where we were parked as well with a 70's something old man that for sure sold pot, and was rumored to sell blow as well.

The boys hit the surf after we pulled out eh bbq and what not. The waves were decent and large, with rights and lefts. The shots from the beach weren't bad as we were pretty close to the best take off spot. As the evening progressed, more and more people started showing up as it was the beginning of the weekend. We met some cool neighbors, this German guy Stefan and a Mexicon guy named Juan, who were traveling to Playa del Carmen to find work and surfing the whole way over.

4.02.08 - Today we left Sayulita, waving to all the fucking hippies on the way out of town. The surf never arrived and we needed to move on. We began another semi long drive towards some town that our French Candien neighbor told us to stop at. We drove for what seemed like forever and finally came to this abominal shit hole called Malenque. This place looked a bit like Fallujah on a nice day and it felt like when the sun went down, everyone was going to turn into a vampire. We decided it would be better to head over to the other side of this bay we were situated on, to another little town called Barra de Navidad. The town turned out much nicer and we got a tiny motel room for $45 for the 7 of us. 4 to sleep and all of us could shower and what not. We parked the bus on the street in front of the little place, and some lady told us we couldn't park the bus there, that it wasn't a public street. I wasn't in a mood to move it so I said no. Then I asked 2 transit cops that drove by and they said it was fine. Later on, the womans husband called the police and the first two were muni cops and they came over and told me to move it a few blocks. I told them the transit guys said it was fine, and they called them over on the radio and they said basically fuck that lady, it's a public street. But there was some conflict between the cops and finally I just told them that just to avoid any problems that I would move the bus to the side street. I still wanted to punch the old bitch in the face though. Somewhere we met this English guy Clive, who was pretty crazy, but a good guy. He spent some years running Heroin between Kabul and Tehran before the fall of the Shaw and the Soviet Invasion. He pained his entire face blue, Braveheart style, and then took Laura, DP and I out to a bar in town. We were the only customers but it wasn't bad times.

Got back to the motel and crashed in the room with DP, Laura and Courtney. Everyone else slept in the bus. It was nice to have a real bed to sleep in.

4.01.08 - April fools day scheming ended fairly quickly. None of us have the energy to pull off anything worth while. All the girls were gone and DP remarked "too bad it's kinds hard to get this bus out of here." Pretty sure he was thinking about moving it, or actually leaving town without the ladies. Too bad indeed.

Later on Dustin and I went back to the same place after a fruitless hunt for a pollo asado stand that had pollo. The first one we went to had no chicken but said in 20 minutes. When we came back, the guy looked at us like we were crazy, and told us no way, not until tomorrow. We headed back to the place where we were overcharged the night before.

While we were sitting there, Courtney and Laura walked in and sat down near our table. We ate and had a few beers. We went back to the bus to digest a bit and then headed out to the bar. We got to this nice little bar near the town square that had a pretty good jazz band playing and stopped for a beer. DP and I walked inside to grab a couple of beers from the bar and there was this drunk gringo inside leaning on the end of the bar, he was probably in his early 60's and about 5'4". The exchange went something like this:

Midget: Fuck you are tall. Where the hell are you from? (try your best Oompa Loompa voice after a bottle of 151)
Dustin: South Carolina
Midget: South Carolina, fuck, you must be one of them hard core redneck mother fuckers
Dustin: Guess so (visibly restraining himself verbally)
Midget: I'm from god for fuck-saken California, but I live here now.
Dustin: (No response)
Midget: Shit, you must be growing some great weed out there.

At this point, I turned around and headed outside. I figured either Dustin would do the same as we both had beers, or he would murder the guy inside. In either case, there was no reason for me to stay. We sat outside on the sidewalk and watched the band for a little bit. There was the token bra less hippie chick that was bouncing around in front of the band, almost like she was listening to something totally different.

After that brief stint, we hit another dive that had hardly anyone in it, but the service was good and the live music-jam-band wasn't bad either. We had a couple of beers and went back to the bus. Drinking ensued, mostly directly out of the bottle of rum that I had bought and some beer that we had. Eventually our party was squashed by our neighbor who was actually sleeping just 2 feet away. Things probably started to go south when Dustin pissed right under where the guys bedroom was. I'll give him credit though, he didn't say shit for about another hour and even gave us an extra lawn chair.
3.31.08 - This morning we packed everything up and said our goodbyes to Stu and Kelly and headed out of Mazatlan towards Puerto Vallarta, to a place north of there called Sayulita. It didn't actually appear to be that far on the map, but jesus some of the roads were pretty narrow and curvy. We learned a new thing about toll roads in Mexico too, they're worth it. There are sometimes two choices Libre which is the older road and is free of charge, or the Cuota which is a new toll road, typically has 2 lanes each way and is flatter. We did the toll road for a while, but it wasn't that cheap. We had to stop twice, and the first time it was about $26, and the second time it was something like $11. So when we came to the next place to make a choice of either Libre or Cuota, we took the free road. That was a mistake. The road was about as straight as a bowl of spaghetti noodles. Dustin was driving at this point and it takes a lot of energy to drive when the road is like that, then add in Mexican semis barreling down at you from the other direction.

Eventually in the afternoon we came to the turn off for Sayulita and pulled into town. We did our usualy make-a -wrong-turn-get-fucking-lost-then-find -suitable-place-to-park. The town was nice, on the quick accidental tour we took. We eventually found a really nice RV park and got one of the last spots. No surprise that half the people in it had Oregon plates. The RV park was right on the beach. The older couple that owned it were awesome. The husband was German or Austrian, but his English was good enough to presume that he had lived in the states for some time. He was drinking straight booze from a shot glass when we pulled up.

3.30.08 - We decided to stay another night in Mazatlan, pretty much because everyone was just tired. The place doesn't really have much to offer as far as waves, and the beach isn't that great either, but we stayed. At some point a couple pulled up near us in a pick up truck, and of course they had Oregon plates. We all got to talking to them, the guy from Australia, and the girl from Tigard, Oregon. She went to Willamette College in Salem, where of course she knew several people that I went to high school with. Small small world. Theire names were Kelly and Stuart. Stu had a fucking Wal Mart packed away in that truck, with everything from invertors, crow bars, extensions cords, a fucking chainsaw (gotta travel with a chainsaw) to all their personal stuff. They were traveling to Nicaragua to visit some friends and hang out for a while, as long as they can I imagine. They had a stack of DVD's so we thought why not set up the projector for once and have a gander at Anchorman. IT hit the spot after our dinner for sure. Nothing better than a little Ron Bergundy for dessert. We also met another guy, Diego. He was in town for the rally and hadn't left yet for some reason. He actually works for Patron, unfortunately he didn't have any free samples. He did have beer though and he was pretty generous about sharing it with us. Unfortunately, he didn't speak English and the DVD we had was from Thailand or some shit so there weren't any Spanish subtitles, so the movie was completely lost on him.

3.29.08 - After a long night, but relatively calm seas, we arrived in Mazatlan. Jane felt a little sick during the night, and it felt like I might roll out of my bunk a few times but all in all, it was pretty smooth. We parked outside of the port, waiting for another ferry to steam out, and then we made a turn and headed into what is apparently Mexico's largest port. We got the bus off the ferry, dragged the shit out of the back end in the process (no surprise) and then drove around Mazatlan for way too long. Apparently street signs are common only in Baja.

We eventually found our RV park, which wasn't bad at all, and right on the beach. The place was full of choppers, and we soon learned that this week was the largest bike week of anywhere in Mexico, and we happened to have arrived on the final night.

3.28.08 - I printed out the forgeries in color and black and white, just to compare the two and got back to the bus, to find that actually everyone was there and ready. We left right away and headed for the ferry terminal.

My plan was fairly simple. Pray that the same guy wasn't working. If he was, to think quickly and conjure up some bullshit about how my registration now says motor home instead of bus only 24 hours later. We got to the ferry terminal and from where we parked and where the Banjercito window is, you can't see who's inside until you're almost breathing on the dude, so there was no turning back if it was the same guy working. Sure enough, Jane and I sauntered up to the window and there is the same fucking guy. Panic hit me like a bucket of water, but when I looked at Jane I calmed myself, as the the thought of her joining me in a Mexican jail for fraud was enough to mellow me out. She looked a but nervous though.

When I stepped up to the window, the guy recognized me right off, as he would since the day before I gave him an earful about how retarded this whole ordeal was. He said what's new? Right off the cuff I said that I went online and paid $20 to have my registration changed and filled out a form stating that I was indeed driving a converted school bus and that it is now legally considered an RV. He picked up the phone and called someone, pretty sure it was the main office but the thought of him calling the police after looking at my handiwork had crossed my mind. He was on the phone for about 5 minutes, which seemed like a bad thing.

He got off the phone and told us to go make copies of all of our documents in the office next door, so we did. I was curious still if he was going to let us fly, or if he was stalling for the cops to show. We got back to the window and he said give me 10 minutes and I'll call you. I decided that if he was stalling, I should just take Jane back to the bus to lessen the appearance of her having any culpability in this affair at all. We got back to the bus and I gave the roomies a quick update and headed back to the window to see what was up. I walked up, gave him my credit card and that was that. We had the permit to import the bus to Mexico.

After that we had the bus weighed and measured for length. I paid the ferry fee for the 16 hour ride to Mazatlan and we waited in the parking lot for the rest of the afternoon. The lot is chalk full of Mexican military personnel, truckers, and dock workers. Later in the afternoon we notice a guy in a wet suit snorkeling around our ferry, and wonder if he's checking for holes. We all run through a checklist of what we have in the bus that is buoyant enough to support a body.

At some point some guy with a hard hat comes over and tells us to pull the bus in. We inch it in to position onto the ramp. I'm not looking at anything except the guy in my side view mirror giving my hand signals. I can't tell if he's telling me to steal second base or to keep pulling in, but none the less it appears he's trying to make sure the bus' ass end isn't going to bottom out on the loading ramp. He adjust some rope or something under our tires and our already crushed tailpipe gains the clearance needed. We pull in and straight onto a huge hydraulic elevator. The inside of the ferry looks like a beat to shit steel forging factory. I'm wondering when the fucking Terminator is going to crawl out of some steaming heap and ask for Sarah Connor. This guy, who looks 100% Irish, guides us onto the ramp and jacks us up to the second deck. Once topside another jumpsuit sporting guy with a hardhat that gives him credibility guides us off the ramp and tells me to turn the bus around completely. After a 17 point turn, and I think I actually crushed something with the back of the bus, we got the bus pointing straight towards the ass end of the boat, in the very back. I can only assume there is some wisdom involved in doing this for when we unload. As I pull the bus in, the guy in the hard hat, no shit, gives me the hit and run/swing away signal. I assure myself that until he puts his hands up meaning stop, that this means keep going. We get the bus in her spot and they chain it to the deck.

An hour and a half later the ferry is completely loaded, but is pretty far from full. Not sure what the lower deck looks like, but the upper deck is only about 40% full. Pretty much everyone on board is a trucker, and I think I spotted one family, but not sure what they are driving. We all got tickets for dinner and for breakfast, which was included. So not long after departure we headed upstairs for some beef, beans, rice and tortillas. The food was actually good, but not enough to fill you up. I could have had two trays for myself, which is saying something since I don't eat much. Actually, I haven't weighed myself since we were at the hospital in Loreto, where I was about 11 Lbs. less than when I left Costa Rica. Now I imagine I'm about 15 or 17. I need to start drinking more beer to curb this weight loss.

Everyone went to bed pretty early actually. DP took a late nap, and ended up waking up later. Courtney and I sat around and watched episode after episode of Entourage.

3.27.08 - This morning we hit immigration to get our visas that apparently we needed and had no idea. It took 2 FUCKING HOURS, and there wasn't even a line. I thought Costa Rica was bad. Eventually Dustin and I stayed and filled out all the paper work so everyone else could go eat or do whatever the fuck they had to do.

Once we got our visas DP and headed back to the bus to learn that the ladies had gone to the hostel to shower, so we took the bus out to the ferry terminal in Pichilingue to see if we could get this bitch on a boat tomorrow. I went over to the Banjercito office where the guy paid me the same lip service that we have been getting from everyone; "yeah, but it IS a bus." fucking retards. He told me to go to customs next door to get a letter of authorization. I had one of the agents even come on board to show him that we had obviously converted the bus and were using it as a motor home. He agreed and said that his supervisor would be out shortly to talk. She eventually came out and told me she couldn't help me and that I should try the customs office in town. Fuck that.

Once we got back into La Paz the small criminal element of my brain was in overdrive, as I had resigned to just forge a new registration that indicated we were driving a Motorhome. Only two letters on the registration kept us from getting on that fucking ferry, and I was pretty determined to get on it. I doctored a new registration and emailed it to myself, then we went back to the bus and got our buzz on for the next few hours.

3.25.08 - We packed up the bus, everyone said goodbye to Santiago and all of the other neighbors that we had met. Seems like the entire state of Oregon is on vacation in Baja at the moment, or lives here part time. All great people so far, couldn't have asked for better neighbors during our entire trip.

We made our way along the coastal road until we came to a place called Cabo Pulmo where we stopped for lunch. Everntually the road became pavement, and after a few hours we made it back to La Paz and to our original parking spot neat the Hotel El Arco and Immigration. We headed to our favorite restaurant, El Callejon, where they have internet and good food and service. We all ate and checked our mail. Nolan checked March madness to see how the Tar Heels were holding up. Eventually Courtney and Lana headed home and went to sleep, while the rest of us closed the place down until 1 AM, and then went looking for more booze aftward, strking gold a couple of spots, but nothing too noteworthy. We had a great time though, and were laughing so much that we woke up Courtney coming up the street towards the bus.

3.24.08 - We woke up fairly early this morning and the waves were shit, so I said that we should move on and we loaded up the hoopty and headed towards a place called Nine Palms, which was supposed to be pretty good. We also knew that Nine Palms was were Santiago was staying at the moment. When we pulled up his car and tent were visible down the beach. Maybe he just happen to have an entire Keg of beer in his tent and a pund of the purple cush? Just cuz, ya know, some people just travel with all that stuff.

The boys and Courtney had a couple of sessions and the beach was gorgeous. There were whales leaping out of the ocean in the background and it was gorgeous. In the evening we cooked over an open fire again and the food was delicious. I don't know if we are that good, or if we're just starving, but it tastes good.

3.23.08 - Easter Sunday, pretty much everything is closed except gas stations. We've been looking for a place to fill our propane tank for about a week now, and have not had any luck. We headed towards San Jose del Cabo, looking for the dirt coastal road to get us out to some good breaks, and a tow truck driver was nice enough to actually drive and have us follow him, just to show us the way. The hospitality in Baja has so far been unmatched by anything else I have experienced in Latin America.

We cruised on down the coastal road, which wasn't in bad shape at all, just a but washboardish. Eventually we came to a break called shipwrecks. The waves weren't bad, but they weren't great. The boys had a good afternoon session and we camped nearly on the beach, just on the opposite side of the road from the beach. We made a fire for cooking and had an amazing meal actually.

Actually, seemingly out of nowhere, that fucking guy Santiago pulled up. Coincidentally he had 4 bottles of wine and enough dates and fruit to feed a small indigenous tribe. He's a nice guy, but I'm always skeptical of people that are that obvious about their ulterior motives.

At some point during the evening, and I was almost stone sober as alcohol was in short supply and I wasn't taking any free shit from Santi, we looked over the horizon, to the North, into the star spangled sky and saw two lights moving leisurely towards us. At first we didn't really think anything of it, someone said out loud it was a plane. Almost simultaneously we all noticed that there wasn't a blinking red like which is pretty standard on a plane, and that there was this curved sickle-shaped something coming off one side. It looked like exhaust, but the sickle shape never once changed color. Dustin stood up and said in his gentlemanly South Carolina accent, "What the hell is that?". There wasn't a sound coming from it either. As it came closer to where we were, it slowly started to turn and head east, however the lights remained situated exactly the same from our point of view. I even grabbed the video camera to see if I could get it on video, but the light was far from sufficient as we were in pitch black desert. We watched whatever it was head easterly, and then the lights turned to a dull glowing read and vanished in almost an instant. Who knows what we saw, but we do know for sure that it was not a plane, helicopter, satellite, swamp gas reflecting off light from Venus or anything that any of us could explain.


3.22.08 - Today we packed up and headed just up the road from Cabo, looking for a spot called Tules. However, when we got there, the waves were shit so we didn't stay long. We continued down the road and stopped at a break between Cabo and San Jose del Cabo called Zippers. Noland and DP weren't that impressed with the break there either, but they went out for a little bit. I had a pipa on the beach with Courtney, which helped me feel better.

We parked the bus under neath an overpass, and this being Easter Week, tons of Mexicans were on the beach. Sometime in the night, an impromptu party came to fruition underneath the overpass, and the blaring 'typico' music that the Mexicans love was too much to bear for all of us and I got out of bed and moved the bus closer to the beach. Later on, about 8 cop cars swarmed down into the beach area and told everyone to leave. Janey woke me up abruptly and said "Macho, there's cops outside." I was truly dead asleep when she did it, and my response was that unless they kick in the door and throw tear gas inside, don't wake me up again.


3.21.08 - Last night everyone went out, but since I wasn't feeling so well I had one drink and then hopped on the local colectiv back to the RV park and crashed. The rest of the crew rolled in around 1 AM. First thing Dustin said was that I didn't miss anything and that he was "about to explode in the cab ride back."

I felt like absolute shit all day. Eventually me and the boys walked down to the closest gas station to grab some food and bitch about our awesome lives. I think Nolan went surfing in the afternoon, but I spent most of my day in bed.


3.20.08 - We woke up this morning to find ourselves in the same basic situation, hungover and packing up. Today we're planning on leaving Los Cerritos and heading further south.

Sometime before sunset last night, I come out of my tomb like bed to see the cops parked right next to the bus. Everyone is in a quick motion panic because of the heavy layer of ganja smoke lingering in the bus. But the cops were oblivious, it was Dustins pissing in the wheel well that drew their attention and ire. Everyone lit up a dagger to mask the pot, and I went outside where the cops started to tell us that Dustin would have to spend 12 hours in jail for his pissing infraction. I got DP out of it with some spanish and the little charm that I have. They were really pushing jail time though, and I would gladly have spent 12 hours in the clink in Todos Santos instead of paying htese mother fuckers. The one cop even took his shades down, Rosco P. Coletrain style, and waved his finger at me.

3.19.08 - Last night Nolan, DP and I enjoyed some time to ourselves, while the girl milked some poor dudes at the bar for free booze. WE woke up this morning to no decent waves. Baja is overly windy for this time of year, but apparently our beach is the least blown out so we're staying here again tonight. A Mexican guy offered to buy the bus today, but since it's not for sale I told him where I got it. He wrote down the information and then told us that we were welcome to camp out on his ranch, about 20 kms south of here. We would have the beach to ourselves. So we're thinking about it. We've all been so pleasantly surprised with the friendliness of the locals. We get free rides, free food, and we feel safe. If we were in Costa Rica and we left the bus alone for 5 minutes, it would be stripped, here we lock her up and leave it for hours at a time. It's really been great.

3.18.08 - Last night, at some point during our time at the bar we were parked in front of, we realized that it was St. Patricks day. So we went on a mission to find the Irish Pub that supposedly existed in La Paz. Eventually we found it, but Jane and Courtney were well asleep by that time. WE enjoyed a couple of Guinness as tradition would have it, and were in bed relatively early.

This morning I got up early and hit the Hotel Arcos, for a much overdo dump. DP and I had owned this lobby bathroom the previous day, and the hotel staff wasn't wise enough or didn't care that we weren't guests. We got rolling and headed out of town and about an hour later we found ourselves parked at Los Cerritos back on the Pacific side of Baja, where we found some good size waves, and Nolan got barreled. The boys were dying to get in the water, so any waves were better than none. No hospital trips or getting the bus stuck in the desert to report.

3.17.08 - Yesterday we made it all the way to La Paz, and drove right through and out to the beach. When we hit the beach, it was pretty evident that it was Semana Santa. Every Mexican family with a car, tent and oversized stereo system was parked out there. We saw another bus, with Oregon plates (all the gringos in Baja are from Oregon) and parked by it. The owner, Norman came over to check out our ride, super cool guy. We threw a bit of a dance party, slash rave in the bus last night. I'm sure all of our neighbors appreciated that. This morning we had coffee in Normans bus, which really puts ours to shame, but he has had it for about 20 years. Now we're back in the city of La Paz. Apparently, none of us noticed that wen we actually entered Mexican, no one even looked at our passports, and we are supposed to have visas, which we need to get on the ferry to Mazatlan next week. So we went to Immigration, but of course you have to go to a bank as well, and they're all closed until Wednesday. So we're heading out to Todos Santos in the morning, hopefully it will be less windy and the waves will be good.

3.16.08 - Today we are planning on making it to La Paz to make our ferry arrangements. The beach in Loreto kinda blows, nothing special.

3.15.08

Last night turned out to be pretty awesome. Dustin and I walked over to Dave and Sharms place, for what I planned to be a hello, happy birthday stop by. It eventually turned into copious amounts of alcohol coated with a heavy layer of pot, topped off by a seemingly endless supply of tequila. I couldn't stop laughing after about 2 hits, of quality Oregon pot. Sharm was surely enjoying the show. Janey and Nolan eventually showed up and blazed out as well. I was afraid to get out of my chair because I felt like my equilibrium was significantly compromised by the drugs and alcohol that I had been forcing into my body all day. Eventually I gathered my strength and had to get out of there. Dustin and Jane stayed longer, but I was dying. When I finally made it the tent, I got some quality sleep for the first time in a while.

3.14.08

I couldn't sleep all night. I thought that I was blazed enough last night to pass out and sleep through till the morning, but I should have taken about two more hits off that joint to do the job right. Unfortunately the girls and Nolan partied til late, and when I finally did fall asleep, not shortly there after, the wales started blowing in the bay like the were trying to stoke a Malibu fire. I couldn't believe how loud it was. I find myself, unfortunately, more and more of a light sleeper since being in the hostel for so long. My sleep is suffering, as is my sanity, but good for me, I have years to make up for the lack of sleep.

I ended up getting physically out of bed around sunrise, which I think was about 5:45 am, but since I haven't worn a watch since I left the states a few years ago, I can't be sure. I did a minor work out, which I should continue everyday while I'm traveling, and checked my email. There must be someone here that has internet and a wireless connection, but once they noticed that I was using thier bandwidth, they cut me off and banned my computer.

The rest of our day has been amazing. We're sitting on the beach in the middle of nowhere and just enjoying the sun. Near mid day, this middle aged american guy walks over to our spot and says "hey". First thing I think is that he's the guy with internet and he's pissed that we've been using his bandwidth. But he walks right over, nice as can be and asks if we need anything from town, and we're in dier straits as far as booze, beer, ice and smokes go, so when he says "heck, why don't one of you guys just come with me." I hop at the chance to get some free time from my roomies (not that it hasn't been anything but awesome, but time away is always good). We hop in his Tacoma, his name is Dave, and he and his wife Sharm live in Coos Bay in the summer and here in the winter or travel all over, whatever suits them. We had a wide varying conversation on the way to town. Kind of your typical feeling-eachother out convo. When we got to town, same one we ate at yesterday, we stopped at this awesome mini-super that had everything. I got all that we needed, but I forgot the ice and the smokes. They didn't have Flor de Cana for Rum, so I dropped down in quality to bacardi (don't ever let anyone tell you Bacardi is good rum). I picked up some Modelos and some limes for the trip and we headed back to the beach, not before stopping to refill his giant water tanks int he bed of his truck with city water. He can't drink it but he can use it for washing and showering.

When we got back to the beach, his wife gave me the low down on the whole ferry ordeal, and assured me that since I live in Costa Rica and am used to things taking a while, and as long as I have my papers in order, that there should be no problem.

Later in the afternoon, we walked over to Toms place, the former Halliburton VP that offered us E and gave us pot last night. He and his wife are simply awesome. Great people all around. Some of thier other neighbors came by and they were almost as cool. Couple of older women, 40's, maybe 50's, but very chill with no cares at all. Some of the crew went inside to smoke with them, but I stayed outside to just enjoy the view, my beer and a smoke.

Today is Dustin's birthday, and coincidentally it is Dave's birthday, the guy who gave me a ride to town, as well. I couldn't sleep for dick last night with the whales blowing all night, I've never wanted a harpoon so bad in my life, and note to selfe: no more Greenpeace donations.

3.13.08

Didn't sleep for shit last night. Between Janey snoring like a lumberjack on cough syrup, and Nolan re-enacting Thundercat episodes in his sleep with references to some guy named Fred, sleeping was pretty much out of the question.

We made it across the entire Baja Peninsula today, all the way to the sea of Cortez. We got to a small town on the coast called Santa Rosalia and picked up a jack for the bus. No more getting stucin the desert hopefully. We looked for a taco stand, but no avail. We left town the highway headed back to the interior gradually. Eventually we came to an oasis, literally, in the middle of the scorching desert that is Baja California Sur, and town there called Mulege. We parked the bus and noticed that half of the exhaust pipe had come loose. Wonder how long that had been going on, but that's probably why everyone was flashing their lights at us. We had lunch, I had some quesadillas, but it filled me up pretty quick and I could only have one. Not sure if the crew grabbed the other ones to go or not.

We left Mulege hoping to get to Loreto, where there is supposed to be an awesome beach, but when we came around a bend along the coast and saw this amazing crescebt shaped bay called playa Burro, we were sold. I pulled in and we found the guys that ran the little RV place. They were all of 10 or 12 years old, balling around the park in their VW Rabbit. We all thought of Lord of the Flies, with little kids running everything here, as there seemed to be no authority figures around at all. About 30 ranchos line the beach here, and about hlaf have RV's parked next to them. I immediately got out my lawn chair and zoned out to some Audioslave.

I camped out on the beah, pitching my tent, and I'm literally 12 feet from a glass smooth sea of Cortez and a gorgeous view.

3.12.08

So today we left Santa Rosalilita and started heading south because the waves sucked. We headed out to El Rosarito / The Wall, which was actually just down the road from where we were. We went out to Hwy 1 and then headed towards the beach. Looking back at the drive in, the road wasn't in that bad of shape. When we got to the beach, the waves sucked there too. Nolan was pretty disappointed, as this was supposed to be one of the most consistent breaks in Baja. We decided to just turn around and head to Guerrero Negro, where we could shack up in an RV park and get some hot showers, but on the way out we took a wrong turn ion the middle of the desert and ended up getting the bus totally fucking stuck. After about an hour or so of trying to get that bitch out of this little gully we were stuck in, we faced reality and realized that we would have to head to the main road, which wasn't actually that far, and hitch it back to the nearest pueblo, which was about 5 miles back. It was a pretty small place, but hopefully someone had some gear to get us out of our dilema.

Dustin and I made our way out onto the road and started hitching. One guy stopped going the other way and actually turned around, but just as he did a small pick up pulled over going our way and we told them what happened and they said they would give us a ride to El Nuevo Rosarito. They were fisherman, so the back of the truck didn't smell that great, but it was a ride and a short one at that. When we got off in Rosarito the first guy we went to put us right into his car to head out and have a look. We got back to the bus and he said all we needed was a jack and that he would go and get one, and be right back. About 30 minutes later they came back with the jack and some wood blocks and we got the bus out after about 15 minutes. When it was all said and done, htey wanted $300. We thought that was insane, so I told them all we had was $100 in cash, and they said fine. I still think it was too much, but you can't screw people when you're in a foreign country and in the middle of nowhere. So I coughed up the dogh and they went on their way. We went back towards the beach and went out on the original road that we came in on, it was pretty stressful, but we eventually made it out onto the highway and into Guerrero Negro.

We found the RV spot that was recommended in the Baja Surf guide, and it was $50 for the night for all of us and the bus. We decided that since it had hot showers, it was well worth it. We pulled in and everyone hit the showers.

3.11.08

Today we woke up, and after a brief talk last evening with Courtney about my father, which I really appreciated, I felt a lot better. After getting everything together and situated in the bus in the morning and headed to San Quinten, where we could find internet.

Once we gor into town, everyone kind of went their separate ways, I went over to an internet cafe to call my sister, and they didn't have skype on the computer, so I downloaded it and called her. She told me to just keep doing what I was doing and not to worry about what was happening and that I couldn't really do anything until he passed away or decided to quit drinking.

Anyway, today I drove for hours, and we finally made it to Punta Rosalilita. We passed through our second military checkpoint no problem at all, the basically just waved us through. After hours and hours we finally came upon a huge spanning beach almost all to ourselves and basically hung out in the bus and drank some beer and booze until bedtime. The waves were pretty disapointing though, so we'll have to continue moving south.

3.10.08

Today was a pretty shitty day. I woke up kinda when everyone else did, and mosied on down the beach towards the river mouth where the boys said they wanted to surf. I took a fairly needed dump there in the bushes, pretty sure the house off in the distance had a full show, but I didn't care. Didn't have any reading material, but that's life on the road I guess. I was feling pretty down after all the shit about my dad last night, and it really started to hit me that he might not be alive the next time I see him, and there doesn't seem to be much that I can do about it.

I kind of moped around all day, trying to figure out what to do. One problem is that the bus is in my name, so the guys can't take it into the interior of Mexico, if that's the case.we will have to head back to the states to get new plates and registration in Dustin or Nolan's name.

Eventually the three of us sat down and decided that we could forge the paperwork that we had well enough to get into the interior, and that in the morning I would call Kelly and Ivy to see what was going on.

3.9.08

Today was pretty uneventful, which isn't a bad thing at all. We got up and put our things in order, and headed out of town. Stopping in town for beer, ice, cigarettes, and some nails to repiar Dustin's bed which came a little loose in the evening.

We made our way south for a while, stopping for fuel at a gas station where we ran into four bikers from the Ensenada Gladiators. They had some scary looking gear on and some really nice bikes, but they let us take some shots and video, and they were super friendly. Everyone has been so friendly so far, it has really made things easier.

After a quick stop at an ATM to get some cash and a stop for everyone to chek their email, we continued down the road until we found a place called Socorro. Right now were parked right on the beach, waiting for a gorgeous sunset. We might leave tomorrow, we might stay another night, who knows. We're making really good time and not in much of a rush. The bus is running great and it's getting easier and easier to drive, day after day. I'm sure that by the time we get to Panama, I'll have it down pat.

When we were on our way here, we actually passed the turn off, and when we did, we actually came to a small settlement called Costa Rica. So when we leave here, we're going to get some shots of that for sure with the bus cruising by. Hopefully I can use it for a trailer and thrw it up on Youtube and Facebook.

We eventually got settled in on the beach, and made dinner and started a fire. Sometime in the course of all of this, Lana tried to tear off the lid of an aluminum can and cut her thumba nd pinky horribly. She was bleeding quite a bit and went into mild shock. We got her into the bus, lying down and kept pressure on the wounds, meanwhile I packed everything back into the bus, because I wasn't taking any chances with her, and she needed to go to a hospital. We drove back to the nearest town, about 30 minutes, San Quentin. It didn't take us too long to find a hospital, and the people there stitched her up rather quickly. While we were waiting, I hopped on someone WiFi and got an email from my sister explaining how horrible my father was doing and that he had had stomach surgery. Apparently when they did an endoscopy and saw his stomach, it was basically ruined. He is apparently combative and abusive with the nurses and with Susan. I called her and she told me that he didn't even know he was in Salem, he still thought that he was in Hawaii. So now, aside from his stomach problems, he's obviously losing his mind. I'm afraid that I will have to go to Oregon to babysit him until he passes or gets better.

3.8.08

Today we made our way from our spot in Erendira / Punta San Isidro over to Punta Cabras. We had a pretty rough drive over to Cabras. Once we got down to the main beach it was awesome, but the waves were completely blown out. We decided to head back more towards the actual point. When we go to the road that went out to the actual point, it looked pretty dodgy, but after some scouting I realized the the road was entirely passable eight down to the beach, which was much more protected from the wind than the previous spot. Once we got down there, we met the local tenent, Arnufo, and his dodg Dandy. The guy was super friendly and we all chatted with him for a bit. Once the surf crew started getting antsy, they dawned their wetsuits and hit the water. Courtney had to do some board repair first, but she got it all done and was in the surf with the boays. She was certainly rocking the early 90's wetsuit she had purchased in San Diego. The waves weren't that great, and closing out most of the time, but it seemed that they just wanted to get in the water, regardless of how cold it was.

I shot some footage of the guys and Courtney surfing, but nothing spectacular. After everyone was done surfing, they all came back and rinsed off under our solar shower, which I don't think is working too well since it's cold all the time.

In the evening, someone made dinner, which was spagetti, and it was pretty damn good actually. We busted out the bottle of tequila before sundown and it was gone before nights end. I actually didn't wake up at all during the night thanks to that. Although, I doubt the quality of sleep was of a very high caliber. It was a god night all in all, still cold as shit, but the company is good, so I can't complain at all.

3.7.08

Wow, what a day today was. I'll back track a little bit and go over last evening. We went over to the Hillcrest area of San Diego, where we met up with our friend Rob's parents, Peter and Judy. Somehow, Egan had gotten a hold of them and they asked all to come out for dinner with them. WE picked them up at the hospital along with Egan and another friend of ours that we know from Costa Rica, Kyle. We eventually found a parking spot for the bus, and hit up a tiny Mexican restaurant for dinner. Rob's parents explained what had happened to Rob; Apprantly, the previous Wednesday, his birthday, Rob went out, and then later in the evening he wandered out to the beach. For some reason, he had an altercation with a group of skaters, and they worked him over with their skate boatds. They basically shattered his skull, and then broke most of his ribs kicking him on the ground. The broke his orbital as well. After it was all said and done, they thought he was dead, so in an attempt to cover up the evidence, they lay his body, face down, in a fire that was burning there on Ocean Beach. Rob suffered third degree burns on his face, as well as a large part of his torso. I could barely keep myself together hearing this from Rob's mother, and she was so calm. I can't beleive that someone could just senslessly beat someone to near death like that. And of all the places that Rob has traveled, and not had any problems, this shit happens in San Diego of all places.

We finished our dinner and I gave them a ride back to the hospital. They were so strong, I was truly impressed. I'm always amazed with some of my friends, at how good their attitudes are a lot of the time, great optimism. Rob is one of thoses guys, he's always smiling, thinking positive, and sincere. After meeting his folks I know where that comes from. Truly amazing people.

After we left dinner, we followed Egan down to Mission Beach, where he showed us a parking lot to camp out in that was conveniently locared tight next to his buddies place. We found a spot for the bus and went over to his pals place, Danny and Kyle. We had some beer, and a bong and joint or two made the rounds. After a while, we all made our way back to the bus to crash. About 3 seconds before I was going to completely gall asleep, I hear a banging on the bus door, and get up to look, it's Egan. He tells me another buddy of ours, also named kyle, is bartending down the street. He's already wasted, but he's slanging drinks, so Nolan and I say fuck it and head over with Egan and his other buddy named Kyle. We get to the bar and it's packed full of gorgeous woman. I was very impressed.

We had our fair share of drinks and shots, and mozied back to the apartments, where I proceeded to take several large bong rips. Man that shit fucks me up, but it's like a hangover eraser and I sleep like a dream when I'm baked, so what the hell.

This morning we had to wait for some surf shops to open before we could leave, because we needed the surfers guide to Baja. So we left the parking lot around 10 am, and headed straight for the border crossing at La Jolla. When we arrive at the border, I pull into the lane for buses and there's no line, sweet I'm thinking. Then the ,exican officiers come around the corner and basically things went south from there. For several reasons they would not allow us to enter Mexico. One reason is because we didn't have permanent plates on the bus, another was because even though the vehicle is considered a R.V. in the States, it's still a school bus in Mexico, no matter if the inside looks like a partridge family reunion. He told us I would have to go back to Arizona for plates and then maybe we could get in, or we could try the border crossing for semi trucks down the road a few miles. We opted for the other border crossing. They opened a gate and made us get in line to re-enter the States, which was madness. We eventually made it through customs, and over to the bus line. They were super friendly, which hasn't been my experience with customs officers before. They took everyone through the line inside, while I had to wait outside to witness a K-9 dog do a once through the bus. He didn't key on anything, and I was kind of worried he might on my clothes from the night before, but then I realized I was wearing the same clothes.

Once we arrive at the other border crossing, same shit. Things looked better this time from the beginning, and everyone was nice and friendly, but no one really knows what to do with a school bus that's been converted to an RV. The guy told us that we needed a commercial permit and that it could take a week. No way. No one there had a clue, he told us to either get the commercial permission or try the La Jolla crossing again. After making some calls and talking to supervisors, they sent us back to the States again.

Once we were back on the State side of the border again, things were looking pretty grim. All the customs guys kinda felt sorry for us so they were really cool, they opened up a side gate to the customs area where we could re-enter Mexico, or at least try to, but they let me run over to the border crossing and talk to one of the Mexican officials. What an asshole this guy was. He just kept telling me that he didn't care if our ride wasn't a bus anymore, it looked like a bus, therefor it is a bus. They are fucking clueless. Seeing that I wasn't going to get anywhere this fucker, I asked if I could talk to his supervisor and he obliged. The supervisor was much nicer and more sympathetic. After some serious ass kissing and showing him some papers, he relented and let us through. I was fully prepared to bust out some tears if would have said no again. I believe that he probably thinks we will get turned around somewhere on Baja anyway, so he just decided not to deal with it. We crossed the border and went into a holding parking lot, where a nice woman told us to go right ahead. We gradually worked our way through Tiajuana, and onto Highway 1, headed for Ensenada. The drive was pretty uneventful other than the stunning beauty of the peninsula once out of Baja and Rosarito. The desert was green with water, and the coast line was amazing. Seeing the steep green hills meeting the ocean in the afternoon reminded me of northern California. The road was in good condition, comparable to a U.S. road.

We were about to leave ensenada when Jane told us that she left her charger for her camera in LA at Randy's house. We drove around Ensenada, possiby the most dodgy place in Northern Baja, for an hour or so looking for a charger for her camera. But we were unsuccessful. It was coming up on sunset so we decided that we had better get going and started making our way south again. We passed a small town caled Santo Tomas, and about 25 kms after that we turned off on a road toward Erendira, which is on the coast. Once we got into town, pavement turned to dirt and we just kept going in the dark until we saw a camping sign, where we asked the okd lady at thouse and she said we could park there for $10. Pretty good deal. We opted for that. Dustin helped me manever the bus in between their fence posts at the driveway, and we found a fairly level spot for the bus with a pretty nice ocean view. Right after we parked the bus, Jane found her things for her camera in the safe of all places. It's red tide as well, so when the waves crash it makes a pretty cool blue glow in the white water, it's pretty impressive. We made a campfire and the girls made chili for dinner on the side burner of the barbecue. It was a fucking cold night, that is for sure, maybe the coldest we've spent in the bus.

3.6.08

Yesterday we spent the day working on the bus over at Randy Higgins house. We basically finished the interior of the bus and it came out pretty good. There are 8 bunks in the back, as opposed to the original plan of 12, and a nice little living area. Randy gave us, amongst other things, his full size bbq. It will certainly be a blessing on the camp sites, but on the road it's a rattling metal box. The back of the bus is like a fucking trampoline, so as we were going, Dustin and Nolan removed the interior metal grates of the bbq to keep the rattling down.

Later in the evening, as we were all wondering where our friend Rob Schneider was, we got a call from our friend Egan Ensmeger, who told us that rob was in a local hospital, and in a coma. Apparantly on his birthday, February 27th, he went out and when he got back to the hostel where he was staying in Ocean Beach, he went out to the beach and got into a fight with a group of local skaters. No one really knows what happened or how he arrived in the emergency room. Rob is Australian, but apparently his parents have been notified, but none of us know his prognosis.

We're sitting here in Carlsbad, just north of San Diego, wondering what the fuck we're going to do. We're obviously going to continue on our journey, but we'd like to try to see Rob before we leave, hopefully talk to his parents. It' really amazing that Rob has traveled up and down Central America for the last 6 months or so, and this shit happens in the United States.

We'll probably hang out around here for the day, and tomorrow hit the border as early as possible. WE're staying right by Justin Brown's condo in Carlsbad, he tells me that diesel in Mexico right now is below $2.50, which is great news since it's about $4 here in California.