MeXscape

10:00 AM. Hurricane Lane, now a cat 3, is a few miles off the coast of Mazatlan and the leading edge is pounding us with 100 mph plus winds. The wind gusts buffet my little RV like the breath of the devil him self. The heavy winds and rain began in earnest at about 3:00 am and are building to their eventual crescendo, hopefully, some time latter today.

This is a story of the first day that Kalin, my 18 year old son, Snickers the wonder dog and I entered Mexico. We had started from the far north end of Idaho, visited friends in Mt Shasta and then departed for Mazatlan on June 15, 2006.

The first turtle encounter happened two days before hurricane Lane hit Mazatlan. I was walking myself, my dog and my dog’s friend, along a beach known as Playa Bruja; the shaman. This is a section of sand rarely seen by tourists, in summer on foot; most are on 4 wheelers and horses. From a ways off, I noticed a small squiggly thing at the waters edge and went to investigate. I found a baby sea turtle making its terrestrial journey across the hot summer sand to the edge of the sea. I watched as a wave washed ashore and spread it’s long, foamy sheet of water and engulfed the tiny creature and carried it into an uncertain future.

I think being retired in Mazatlan will turn out to be more work than work back in the so-called first world. My fate was sealed after my first turtle encounter on Playa Bruja and successful rescue and rehab of a very wild Greyhound. The turtles were easy, they just needed a little help over and through to obstacles to the beach. The Greyhound was another matter altogether. When I discovered that my wild dog had bonded with Martha, I knew I was no longer just passing through Mazatlan. After several in-depth conversations about the needs of the natural world surrounding this growing area, I thought I might be able to do some good with all this time that retirement had bestowed on me. I was becoming mired in Mazatlan without even knowing that it was sneaking up on me

When thunderstorm Paul rumbled through, the rains left large puddles and some small ponds in various areas. I spent Wednesday morning doing some clean up, for an eventual dump run, out at Conrehabit. About halfway between the gate and the casita I came across a section of road with water running across and down about a 75-meter stretch. Being somewhat familiar with this particular section of road, I wasn’t too worried about getting mired, however, given past experience, a good look would be wiser than a blind charge. As I carefully viewed this flooded track, I noticed a little island about 30 meters away, with a small stranded female.

Since Snickers the Wonder Dog is half Coyote, I have worked very hard with her through the years to keep her from wanting to chase and eat, either small crawly things or large running things. All the time has paid off and she has become a very well behaved dog, willing to do as told; most times. Her transformation from the frozen north to the tropics has been a bit of an adjustment, to say the least. The most evident change has been the loss of about 10 pounds of hair off a 45-pound dog. Always willing to dive right into any northwest river, either winter or summer, she has always seemed very accustomed to water; except here. I think because this water makes noise, doesn’t taste like water and also chases her, the ocean is still a strange thing for her to comprehend. However, the principal thing that has caught her full and complete attention, are the Iguanas.

Not for the reasons most people think. I have no fear of armed marauders, highwaymen, con men, or the like. What I'm referring to is more insidious. I'm talking about the real danger in Mexico - Addiction! Spending time in Mexico can leave you battling a number of addictions.

Well...Snickers the Wonder Dog actually managed to catch a rather large Iguana today. We were on our afternoon bicycle ride, I on the bike and Snickers following along behind; she doesn’t have her own bike yet. I am not sure how she managed to corner and capture the damn thing, but it was (and still is), about one meter long. When I realized she was not right next to me or even close behind me, I stopped and looked back to see her in the lizard hunting mode, about 50 meters away.

One of the things I love about Mazatlan is abundance of food available to you when out for an evening stroll. The carts are absent during the day, but as soon as the sun goes down, the streets mysteriously fill with food vendors like moon flowers blooming at dusk.

After completing my most recent foray into the English-speaking world, I discovered that I have had a complete shift in my personal reality. Six months in Mazatlan is the longest period of time I have immersed myself within this open and friendly culture.