El Grito - The Scream

I learned something new recently. In nautical terminology, "shore power" is used to refer to plugging into electrical sources when a boat is in port. When the boat is out to sea, there's electricity stored in batteries, and, just like a car, the running engines recharge the batteries.

What I learned was that this nautical terminology is becoming used for travel with computers on batteries. So, when I'm on the road, I use my battery power, and when I finally get somewhere where I can plug in, I have "shore power". And, this feels right - it also feels appropriate for finding a wireless connection, like I've hit shore, and I'm kind of free floating otherwise.

I'm at Bentley's coffee and tea in Tucson AZ. Naturally, all plans have morphed into a reality that barely resembles them, but things are going well. Until Sept 29th, when we actually start this trip, I'll be catching up with reflections over the past several months planning this project. I think this is important if folks want to avoid our mistakes.

The friends of the border patrol in California claimed to start their activity on Sept. 16th, Mexican Independence Day. And we started our trip on that day too.

The plan: Pick up Judy, fellow KBOO volunteer, at the airport Thursday night, 15th. She's just coming back from San Miguel de Allende, MX. She has contacts and information for us. We grab a quick bite, share information, and Bartolina and I are off to bed by 10 pm.. we'll shove all of our stuff in bags and get ready for Lisa to come and get us at 530 am.

the reality: Judy's plane is late, and we don't arrive at the bar until nearly 10pm. Bartolina brings his sister, brother in law, and their child to the bar, where she can't be, of course.. we talk for quite a while, and others visit us. we leave the bar at about 130 am. It's after 2 before we reach Kara's apartment, so we just decide to pack and get organized and stay up. a difficult decision, but there's just no other way. I catch a second wind (bartolina and I already were up at 530 am the night before to go to the carpenter's strike), and get everything taken care of... until about 430 am.. and I can't find my passport wallet. So typical. I had just seen it an hour before. Lisa arrives on time, still can't find it. unpack, repack, it's nowhere. finally, we start taking things down one by one, still no sign... now I'm tired and worried. Lisa picks up the final bag of stuff, and there it is, underneath. Departure: 530 am. Not bad, considering.

Lunch in Roseburg at Tom Tom's required only a single bloody mary for the driver. The place was oregon - handwritten gun show notice on the front door, a half full bar at 9am on a friday morning. Bartolina smirked at the Indian reference in the restaurant name, and the white clientele who would be the ideological descendents of Indian hunters.

After losing an hour, we agree to press hard. All of us are tired, but Lisa got four hours of sleep; Barto 2, and I got none. Lisa pulled an amazing shift from 5am to 2pm. After a nap in the back seat, I picked up the slack from somewhere north of Sacramento, through to that weird hilly windy area - Gustine. Lisa picks it up again, ferrying us all the way into Solana Beach where Kara's family is on the last night of their vacation. Arrival time: 130 am. Driving time: 20 hours.

The ocean was lovely. The sleep was insufficient. Our metaphorical scream for libertad was a yawn.

next: Calexico\Mexicali