You may have noticed that there are two Day 17s on this blog – I didn’t realize that the Saturday I entered Mexico was the 18th day of the trip. Although I posted that day, it was a hurried posting at a computer in the lobby of the hotel we stayed at. You may have noticed some punctuation issues in that posting – the keyboard was a Spanish keyboard, and the punctuation keys were different!
As related earlier, it was a fairly frustrating experience getting to the border because of issues I didn’t fully understand because my broker didn’t speak very fluent English and/or wasn’t very communicative. I just know that all of a sudden he said I had to get to the border right away to get in line, and even led me there. Said they would bring the final paperwork to me in line. It turned out that the US officials only work at the cargo entrance until noon on Saturday.
The line itself was fascinating. It was almost entirely made up of vehicles pulling other vehicles. In many cases they were the worse for wear, cars especially appeared to have been in accidents. I have since learned that folks from throughout Central America will come to the US to buy these cars and trucks, and when they take them back to their home countries the duties are less because they are wrecks. They repair/rebuild them for resale. This is less true of the larger trucks, although they are still well used. Here are photos of small pickups towing small pickups, big dumptrucks towing big dumptrucks, with cars in the beds of both trucks, and a truck cab hauling 4 additional truck cabs.
As related earlier, it was a fairly frustrating experience getting to the border because of issues I didn’t fully understand because my broker didn’t speak very fluent English and/or wasn’t very communicative. I just know that all of a sudden he said I had to get to the border right away to get in line, and even led me there. Said they would bring the final paperwork to me in line. It turned out that the US officials only work at the cargo entrance until noon on Saturday.
The line itself was fascinating. It was almost entirely made up of vehicles pulling other vehicles. In many cases they were the worse for wear, cars especially appeared to have been in accidents. I have since learned that folks from throughout Central America will come to the US to buy these cars and trucks, and when they take them back to their home countries the duties are less because they are wrecks. They repair/rebuild them for resale. This is less true of the larger trucks, although they are still well used. Here are photos of small pickups towing small pickups, big dumptrucks towing big dumptrucks, with cars in the beds of both trucks, and a truck cab hauling 4 additional truck cabs.
I’ve heard that there have been some issues in the US about Mexican trucks and drivers. I found that their trucks appeared to be as new as trucks generally are in the US, and I believe the drivers are perhaps more skilled because they have to drive on primary roads that are quite narrow in some cases. There are double bottom trucks as well, but in Mexico they are two long trailers, not two short ones as in the US. Here’s a photo of one in the yard at Belize customs. I watched the driver back these trailers into that spot and it was amazing. 
At any rate, as related earlier, I met David as we both went through the process of having US customs make sure our vehicles weren’t stolen, and the Mexican customs making sure we did not take contraband into Mexico. Although I had multiple items that might not pass muster, the only thing that interested them was my LCD flat screen TV, which I had to pay them the equivalent of $30 for duty. Even that was frustrating – first the customs official was not at his post, and after he finally showed up, I then had to go to the cashier, in another building. The cashier wasn’t there, and after a while I went back to the customs official and he took my money, stamped the papers, and sent me back to the official at the gate who had other papers I would need to show elsewhere, especially when I exited.There were probably 30 to 40 soldiers at this border point. They had pickup with machine guns mounted on the tops of the cabs, and many were carrying automatic weapons. They were checking the autos and smaller trucks entering through the tourist entrance, primarily for guns.
We finally got through customs and on our way at about 2 PM. We had not gotten 20 miles before being stopped by local police, who were concerned about the chemical David was hauling. Here is a photo of his rig, and another of David, standing in front of my truck.
The chemical was a dark green color, and fairly thick. It is used to make a foam to fill tires so they do not go flat, and carries toxic warnings. Because he knows Spanish, he talked with them, and after half an hour, they let us go. This happened several times over the first couple of days. Because I always pulled up behind him, when they came to me I would say, “No habla espanol”. They would check my passport and truck title, and that would be it. (Later in the trip David started pretending to not know Spanish, and the police stops became much quicker.)
An hour or so later we had our first flats (in Mexico). David had had a flat on his trailer in Texas, so had no spare. Now the rear passenger side tire on his truck blew out. We mounted his spare, and fortunately my tire wrench fit his lug nuts, because the wrench in his truck didn’t. After replacing it with his spare we went a few miles and pulled into a place that we thought might have tires. They didn’t, but while David was making the inquiry, the right rear tire on my truck went flat. So we replaced it with my spare. At this point neither of us had spares, although I had spare tires that were not mounted. Where we stopped had no tires, but continuing down the road we came to a restaurant + where they brought out a tire that would fit David’s rim. The mechanic was working on the engine of someone’s car, and did not have time to mount it. Further down the road we saw a welcome tire mounted in the dirt so it would stand up, with the word “VULCAN” painted on it. Mexico does not allow people to bring more than one spare tire in to the country (although I did), and there is a cottage industry of individuals along the highway who will mount tires. They usually have a pile of used tires in the yard. We stopped at the first one we came to, and at the direction of the wife with a truck horn we called her husband in from a wooded field where he had been watering his burro. Husband and son hustled back, and using very rudimentary had tools like hammers and bars, changed both our tires. David’s did not hold air, so had to be dismounted, patched and remounted. No such thing as wheel balancing. Below is a photo of the tire man working on a tire, with his pile of tires in the foreground. Total charge: 50 pesos, which is the equivalent of $3.58 US.
An hour or so later we had our first flats (in Mexico). David had had a flat on his trailer in Texas, so had no spare. Now the rear passenger side tire on his truck blew out. We mounted his spare, and fortunately my tire wrench fit his lug nuts, because the wrench in his truck didn’t. After replacing it with his spare we went a few miles and pulled into a place that we thought might have tires. They didn’t, but while David was making the inquiry, the right rear tire on my truck went flat. So we replaced it with my spare. At this point neither of us had spares, although I had spare tires that were not mounted. Where we stopped had no tires, but continuing down the road we came to a restaurant + where they brought out a tire that would fit David’s rim. The mechanic was working on the engine of someone’s car, and did not have time to mount it. Further down the road we saw a welcome tire mounted in the dirt so it would stand up, with the word “VULCAN” painted on it. Mexico does not allow people to bring more than one spare tire in to the country (although I did), and there is a cottage industry of individuals along the highway who will mount tires. They usually have a pile of used tires in the yard. We stopped at the first one we came to, and at the direction of the wife with a truck horn we called her husband in from a wooded field where he had been watering his burro. Husband and son hustled back, and using very rudimentary had tools like hammers and bars, changed both our tires. David’s did not hold air, so had to be dismounted, patched and remounted. No such thing as wheel balancing. Below is a photo of the tire man working on a tire, with his pile of tires in the foreground. Total charge: 50 pesos, which is the equivalent of $3.58 US.
Because David had only slept two hours the previous night, we stopped at a hotel he knew in San Fernando de Presas, had dinner, and went to bed. That’s when I posted the Day 17 below, relating how I had met him. I ended that posting with “I feel blessed”, and I can tell you with great certainty that I was blessed. That’s enough for this posting, Day 19 next.
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