Bermejillo, Chihuahua, Nuevos Casas Grandes
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As we left the motel, on the slope out of the gate the gravel guard under the rear of the motorhome broke loose at one end. An eye bolt had snapped, no spare, no chance of getting one. This had also occurred last year on the way through the detours on highway 2. The question of how we were going to carry this heavy and bent piece of steel, aluminum and rubber was easily answered—we weren't. We abandoned it on the side of the street. Someone will make a few pesos from the scrap. Now we need to find a replacement soon, or at least a couple of mud flaps.
Somewhere around here we realised that we had had change of time zone – The GPS and the cell phone alerted us to that. We had been on Central Standard Time and crossing into Chihuahua we changed to n Mountain Standard time. Back home meanwhile changed to daylight savings time, so now we are temporarily back in sync with the Starchoice TV Schedule—we can watch Victoria's CHEK TV 5 o'clock news at 5 o'clock instead of 7, which we have been doing for the last four plus months.
Much of this huge Chihuahua area is desert, the rest is high plains country, still very dry. There is a lot of farming and cattle in this area considering the lack of water. The route north keeps changing from flat to mountains, back to flat. At least we won't get bored with the drive.
We found the Chichuahua City bypass without trouble. It has been 6 years since we drove this way and that was in the other direction. We remembered a long winding rough road through the industrial district. Today we had a new, fast three lane highway with light traffic (Sunday) and great signage (rare in Mexico) making our task easy.
We arrived at RV Park, which is behind a large Pemex, fuelled up first then parked in the first site—the only space with a 50 amp connection! Very rare in Mexican RV Parks. Again we were the only ones here. We were met by Francisco, one of the workers on what appears also to be a small ranch, complete with turkeys, chickens, cows and horses. Francisco speaks excellent English, having worked in the USA for 25 years but got caught up in the financial collapse there last year and returned home to work for a friend. We have a lot of respect for Francisco, he is working for low wages, living in a very tiny concrete shed, but happy and cheerful as he works his way back up.
Two months ago a female dog, a nursing mother who had given birth to 12 puppies 2 days previously, was run over by a semi just starting up and was killed. Francisco found 11 of the puppies and took them home, feeding them with an eye dropper. Next day he found the still body of the 12th pup, who had possibly been nursing when it's mother was killed. It had been out all night in very cold temperatures, apparently dead. As he carried it back it moved and eventually made a full recovery! He found homes for 10 of them and has kept 2 for himself. He is very good with them, coaxing and encouraging them and giving them lots of comfort and attention. Unfortunately they live outside in a little cave he made of scraps and blankets, not inside with him. However this is the norm here and he is doing the best he knows. We left him some money for vet bills for which he was extremely thankful.
The Church book says there is wireless in the campground. Inquiring to Francisco he told us that nearer the fence just out side the park we might be able to get a signal. We decided to go to the restaurant for a beer and try there. We relaxed over beer and tortilla chips, learning that the wireless was down!
15th March
We woke up early this morning, 6:00 AM! Inside temperature was 57 deg F—Quick, turn on the heat pump—with such a large temperature spread the propane furnace automatically came on with it!
We finally managed to get out of bed an hour later, not shivering now as the place was nicely warmed. Art noticed one of the puppies across the way and went over for a visit. This little fellow was quite timid but really wanted some attention, creeping closer on his belly as Art approached, then lying quivering, then trying to climb his pant leg—Art of course succumbed and picked him up. He quickly cuddled up in Art's arms and was quite content—almost ready to sleep.
Now to drain the holding tanks, black tank first of course. Art slowly pulled the valve handle and the sewage began to flow. He heard the rapidly changing sound of the black tank contents flowing down the drain and was almost quick enough to close the valve before an overflow occurred. Almost; though the spillage was minimal. It did continue to drain but very slowly.
Then the grey water--(sink, shower etc)--which was almost completely full. Try as he would, he could not avoid the occasional spill—it was very difficult to regulate the flow, it would only handle a very slow rate. In total it required 40 minutes to drain both tanks and rinse the hose, which he also laid out in the sun to warm so it too could be stored away in its box.
After a shower and change of clothes the inside chores were completed and the car hooked up ready for towing. We pulled out of the space at 10:30, negotiated the gate and stopped at the ATM for a cash infusion and were retracing our path to Chihuahua 20 minutes later.
The northwest periferico was in as excellent condition as the southwest section, well signed and again very little traffic. Today was a holiday—the Monday before March 21st, the birthday of Benito Juarez which was probably the reason for the light traffic. This day was also Arts' mom's birthday. She would have been 97!
Yesterday we had had a lot of trouble with the GPS which came up with a mapless screen and a strange message-- “calculating 100% drawing”. Gillian tried resetting to default, turning off for a while—nothing seemed to work. We pulled the external power planning to let the internal battery run down to see if that might work. Suddenly it woke up. BUT now it was talking—in an English accented voice! Her name apparently is Emily! The biggest complaint we had was that she couldn't pronounce Spanish words correctly. Also of course, she wouldn't shut up!
She became quite insistent that we should make various turns when the signs most emphatically directed us otherwise. Of course much of the perifierico was new, especially our exit to the highway north. The very last bit looked like it may be temporary as it was a bit round-about three sides of a square and there is a large new overpass being built. Emily was getting quite repetitious. Gillian was looking for the voice off switch, but of course she was also simultaneously checking the road atlas and reading road signs. We agreed that Garmin should add a voice input command: SHUT UP! (Or words to that effect.) Gillian decided to turn the GPS off until we were on the highway. She later found the mute command and we carried on in blessed silence. Except of course for our own conversation!
The toll road north was in reasonable shape for the most part but some sections certainly needed attention. We make good time on mainly flat straight highway every once in a while interrupted by a section of hills—not quite mountains—then back to the plains again.
When we turned off highway 45 towards Nuevo Casas Grandes Art reset the cruise control and drove the next 75 kilometers without touching either the brakes or the accelerator! We stopped at the side of the road in a small town of Ricardo Flores Magon for a lunch break then carried on, the next 16 kilometers of road being in very poor condition. We were soon back on a toll road for about half the remaining distance but when the free road began the road was as good or better than the toll road. Nice surprise!
In Nueva Casas Grandes we easily found the RV Park and pulled in through the open gates. There were no other rigs here, no one in sight anywhere. There were several business and homes but nothing labeled as an office. The spaces appeared very small, many trees too close together and too low, a couple of drainage ditches across various lanes made access very difficult for anything larger than a van.
We disconnected the car and moved it out of the way, then with Gillian watching and guiding from outside, Art with a lot of “toing and froing” managed to back into the first space. There were no services in this space, but we could reach the ones on the other sided without too much difficulty. Only dragging hose and cables underneath the rig. The sewer drain was stuffed full of leaves and debris, the electrical outlet wired backwards (hot and neutral reversed.) which meant that the rig's circuits wouldn't allow the power past the first stop! So the first night we “dry camped” (without services) and relied on the batteries and the inverter.
Just as we got settled, a man appeared with a pickup and flat bed trailer, loaded up a stack of pallets which had been blocking one of the RV Park lanes and drove off—locking the gate behind him! There was all kinds of interesting junk about. Some useful, some not so much!
In the morning a lady came round to collect the rent. We explained about the power problem and Art asked permission to fix out outlet him self. “Como no!” was the reply (Why not?) Out came the tool box and Art investigated. First discovery was that the electrical box was full of old spider nests and dead spiders. Interestingly enough the 15 amp outlet was attached with one slotted screw and one Phillips screw while the ground wire was secured with a Robertson screw. Also the #10 stranded wire had been wired to both terminal screws on each side, even though the tabs that connect both outlets had not been removed. Ten minutes later we had power.
Still no sewer drain, but we will only spend 2 nights here so we should be fine. We won't take on any more fresh water either, we'll take care of both in Arizona tomorrow. Well that's the plan.
After breakfast Art did a bit of laundry—T shirts, undies and socks to tide us over (no pun intended). We have a huge load to do in a laundromat in the next couple of days! Gillian dug out the drying rack and Art hung it out to dry in the sun and wind. The wind was so strong Art had to secure the clothes rack to a rock with a couple of bungee cords. Considering the sun and wind we were sure they would be dry by evening—even though by 10:00 AM the temperature was still only 9.6oC!
The rest of the day we spent at the ruins and museum of Paquimé located in the nearby town of Casas Grandes. Note no “Nueva”! On the way Art spotted a bolodero (shoe shine guy) working in the zocalo. There was a parking space in front so he took the opportunity to get his brown shoes cleaned—20 pesos. Unfortunately his filthy mud covered black shoes were still back in the motorhome.
The wind was very cold, the museum very informative. After the museum Art returned to the car while Gillian wandered through the ruins camera in hand. Now back into town to find a restaurant.
One of the things we love about traveling around on our own in making wonderful discoveries, such as the little gem of a restaurant we found here. Trattoria Ducal is located by the square that is next to the front of the church. (Not the square that is near the back of the church if you are using these notes to find it!)
m the outside it looked interesting, certainly not inspiring, but different. It appeared to be completely closed and locked—the black steel doors closed and uninviting, no lights showing from the few windows. However there were two “Abierto” signs and a blackboard notice on the wall with the day's specials listed in chalk. Gillian tried the door, it was unlocked, so she entered the dark room and was greeted by Andrea the Italian owner who then turned on the light. Singular. Art had turned around at the door to go back for his un-tinted glasses and soon joined her at the table.We both ord
ered the lasagna which was listed on the specials board though on the regular extensive menu it was noted as available on Sundays only. Leftovers? Today was Tuesday! Everything had been closed Monday for the holiday, but. . . . .
He was right on with his recommendation as it perfectly complimented the lasagna. The pasta was very good—maybe not the very best we have had but far from the worst. Art was trying to discern the distinctive flavour, thinking that it almost tasted like pork. Gillian asked Andrea what meat was used and was told beef with some pork and a bit of bacon for flavour!
On looking around the restaurant we noticed among other things an espresso machine. Dos espressos por favor! Meanwhile Andrea presented us with two tiny glasses of a mysterious liquid—limoncello--a lemon liquor made by his wife! Delicious.
Gillian realised that we needed wine for dinner at home tonight, so we changed our minds and bought the bottle—there were still a couple of glasses left in it. La cuenta? En Italiano il conto? 390 pesos, of which 200 was the bottle of wine. ($35.00 Canadian in total)
After lunch we drove to the tiny pueblo of Juan Mata Ortiz to see and possibly buy some of the exquisite pottery made here.
Some years ago a local by the name of Juan Quezada Celado became fascinated with the examples left behind by the builders of the ruins and decided to try to recreate their work. He is now a skilled self trained potter and talented artist and has trained many family members and other villagers in the techniques--in fact he founded a school for this purpose. We found his very unprepossessing shop without difficulty there being only one street in the town.
Inside was anything but plain! The walls were lined with shelves loaded with fabulous pots. The works of Juan Quezada himself were secured in glass cases! Most of these works are very thin, walls being less than an eighth of an inch. We manged to restrain ourselves to three purchases. One from his shop and two much cheaper but still beautiful from a family selling their wares from a blanket on the side of the road. Hope we can get our fragile purchases home safely!
Gillian also took these pictures of a lovely local who also agreed to pose with Art.
We returned home with a stop at the Bodega enroute for bread, bananas and booze (Scotch) where we unloaded the car and Art returned to the zocalo to get his black shoes cleaned and polished. Three shoes this time—one that his foot brace fits. 50% more—seemed reasonable!
Back at the rig we settled in to relax watching the TV news from home and working on the blog. We have not had internet for a while so we have been making notes on the word processor awaiting the opportunity to upload. While Art typed Gillian got on with our supper.
Tonight as we relaxed after dinner—a sumptious lemon and oregano chicken breast with the last of the Barbera--we realised that we would miss the sound of the cooing Mexican doves.
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