Monday, March 27, 2006
Jimbo and Homer's Excellent Adventure was both. We drove to San Carlos, Sonora on Route 15. At the tourist visa station we chanced upon a mama dog and her variously colored pups.
Pieta.
In some ways the dog symbolized life in Sonora- difficult, harsh, and enduring. Sonora is a fairly empty place, the population concentrated into a handful of towns. The countryside is deserted and a desert, in some places horribly overgrazed by cattle. The people do what they can to survive, you can see why people would choose to come to the United States looking for a better life.
Jimbo's lunch at Santa Ana.
The drive to San Carlos took longer than I remembered, of course the last time I was there was in 1994. We ended up in a Best Western, oh god, the lava rocks we slept on there made my back ache.
"Tu, solo tu," in honor of Patrick.
Luckily the margaritas at dinner were nice and strong. Saturday morning I was up early and sat on the beach by myself, watching the pelicans, grebes, sea gulls, swallows, and frigate birds. In the distance I could hear the barking of sea lions.
Mexican self portrait.
A very friendly and cute dive shop employee told us where to go to see wildlife. Jimbo is a bird watcher, and we talked about how many gay guys aren't really into nature or getting dirty and so on.
In the mangroves.
The estuary leading out to the Sea of Cortez had probably 20 species of birds- blue herons, egrets, avocets, long-billed curlew, several types of gulls, grebes, pelicans, a cardinal, along with crabs and fish. Colorful shells lay on the ground and the path crossed over prehistoric shell mounds. I managed to spot prehistoric pottery sherds among the thousands of shells. Jimbo's new camera takes great zoom photos.
Egret.
My camera is better for close ups.
Jimbo and Homer, on the beach.
Sunday morning we sat right back and took a two-hour-tour. Just us and a pack of old ladies, with a screeching tour guide who qualified as a "repeater." Apparently, it is best when making a incorrect factual statement that is somewhat wrong, to repeat said error or observation over and over and over again. The tour guide-ess's inane babbling almost ruined the trip, but the opportunity to see and smell bird shit close up (or as the tour guide-ess insisted on calling it "poo"), was exciting.
Pelicans and guano.
More exciting were the rafts of sea lions and the amazing dolphins, the latter jumping in and out of the boat's wake.
Dolphin.
The drive back to Tucson was long, Mama dog was happily nursing her puppies when we passed through. I took cuts at the border crossing and felt guilty afterwards. We got home and rushed off to karoake to hang with Patrick, Brady, and Panchesco. It's early morning now and Jimbo is safely deposited at the aeropuerto. It was a nice adventure. Next month, San Francisco!
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Pieta.
In some ways the dog symbolized life in Sonora- difficult, harsh, and enduring. Sonora is a fairly empty place, the population concentrated into a handful of towns. The countryside is deserted and a desert, in some places horribly overgrazed by cattle. The people do what they can to survive, you can see why people would choose to come to the United States looking for a better life.
Jimbo's lunch at Santa Ana.
The drive to San Carlos took longer than I remembered, of course the last time I was there was in 1994. We ended up in a Best Western, oh god, the lava rocks we slept on there made my back ache.
"Tu, solo tu," in honor of Patrick.
Luckily the margaritas at dinner were nice and strong. Saturday morning I was up early and sat on the beach by myself, watching the pelicans, grebes, sea gulls, swallows, and frigate birds. In the distance I could hear the barking of sea lions.
Mexican self portrait.
A very friendly and cute dive shop employee told us where to go to see wildlife. Jimbo is a bird watcher, and we talked about how many gay guys aren't really into nature or getting dirty and so on.
In the mangroves.
The estuary leading out to the Sea of Cortez had probably 20 species of birds- blue herons, egrets, avocets, long-billed curlew, several types of gulls, grebes, pelicans, a cardinal, along with crabs and fish. Colorful shells lay on the ground and the path crossed over prehistoric shell mounds. I managed to spot prehistoric pottery sherds among the thousands of shells. Jimbo's new camera takes great zoom photos.
Egret.
My camera is better for close ups.
Jimbo and Homer, on the beach.
Sunday morning we sat right back and took a two-hour-tour. Just us and a pack of old ladies, with a screeching tour guide who qualified as a "repeater." Apparently, it is best when making a incorrect factual statement that is somewhat wrong, to repeat said error or observation over and over and over again. The tour guide-ess's inane babbling almost ruined the trip, but the opportunity to see and smell bird shit close up (or as the tour guide-ess insisted on calling it "poo"), was exciting.
Pelicans and guano.
More exciting were the rafts of sea lions and the amazing dolphins, the latter jumping in and out of the boat's wake.
Dolphin.
The drive back to Tucson was long, Mama dog was happily nursing her puppies when we passed through. I took cuts at the border crossing and felt guilty afterwards. We got home and rushed off to karoake to hang with Patrick, Brady, and Panchesco. It's early morning now and Jimbo is safely deposited at the aeropuerto. It was a nice adventure. Next month, San Francisco!
