Powder River Examiner -

Wherein Joe Stuver, former Editor of the Powder River Examiner, journeys south for a winter in the sun.

I departed from home on a decent but windy day, two days after Christmas, for the long drive to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Of course the trip was much longer, and much more "adventuresome," due to my ever-malfunctioning navigation system.

I battled a typically strong Wyoming wind as I fled south. My intention, and my destination, was to meet up with old pal Danny Lazarus, his wife and their two boys, who were spending Christmas with her relatives in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Many of you will remember Danny as the chief chef at Jean Hough's Judge's Chambers. He came up from his college classes at UCLA to open the restaurant and see it through its first few months. He has since moved on to global finances, but we have remained pals since.

I ran into one of the worst blizzards in my career in southern Colorado and northern New Mexico. The roads were awful. There must have been 50 cars and semis that had slid off the highway, but most appeared as simple slide offs and there were few rollovers.

But, I blundered my way through, passing the poke-alongs while maintaining a slow but decent speed and the miles slowly passed by. I ran out of the worst of it by Albuquerque, but there was still snow on the ground until about five miles from my destination. Truth or Consequences was dang cold, with a hard wind adding to the chill.

I hung with Danny and his family for a day, and then continued on the last few miles to El Paso, where I spent the night trying to heal a bad back a bit before the final push.

I did not notice anything unusual as far as immigrants, but apparently timing was everything, both going and coming.

I crossed the border with no guards present, and almost immediately got lost in Juarez. As I said, I did not notice anything unusual or at all dangerous in either El Paso or Juarez. There, an occasional visit with taxi drivers got me pointed in the right direction: SOUTH!

I stopped to get my visa and vehicle permit, and then was off to Durango. It was a long dang haul, though, with few towns in between in that land of desert. Chihuahua was only about 300 miles, and I wanted to get in a full day. It seemed I would drive on for miles with no habitations; the only people I saw were road workers. They were clearing miles of roadside grass with those little hand scythes, and one puny weed eater. They apparently got dropped off in the morning and worked until they were picked up in the evening.

The infrastructure in Mexico is actually really advanced. High voltage power lines hung from their metal frames, running off in all directions, but the smog from a nearby coal power plant loomed heavy at times. The highways are mostly very good too. You have a choice of libre (Free) or Cuosto (Toll). The toll roads are, needless to say, much better. They are mostly four-lane, so you can speed right along.

The two-lane portions have wide shoulders, allowing trucks and slower moving traffic to pull over and allow we faster drivers a passing lane. Drivers there are mostly very polite, but some too are absolutely loco.

At around 11, road worn with back aching badly, I finally found a hotel in Durango, and gratefully settled in. The motels in Mexico usually have fences, and all employ guards, a surprising amount of who speak English. Most are very clean, and very nice, and the people were extremely kind and helpful. I ran into people of that type, kind and helpful, wherever I went.

I wish my fellow gringos could see Mexico through my eyes.

Each state in Mexico is different, almost as their own separate countries. Durango highways have roadside water available every quarter of a mile or so, along with solar powered satellite phones for emergencies.

I continued on early the next morning for a day from hell, thanks again to my navigator, with me blindly following as I had not bought a decent map of Mexico.

Next week: driving at night in Mexico's second largest city.