Texas to Saltillo Mexico

Up bright and early on November 7th our first step was to fill up with fuel. In earlier trips the plan had always been to fuel in Mexico where prices were lower but recently Mexican prices had been rising, especially for diesel so we decided to set off with full tanks.

This time, our third at this crossing, we found our way for the first time without getting lost! In fact we found ourselves at the border sooner than expected. Comes from making the correct turns!

We crossed into Mexico shortly before 9:00AM. As we approached the entry port, the signs sent cars and pickups to the left and trucks and buses to the right. Being bus size we went right, only to be flagged down and told that this was for commercial vehicles only! No room to turn around we had to unhook the car, back up and enter the "car" lanes that seemed very narrow to us. However we were directed to make a hard left and pulled up alongside the building.

Apparently all large vehicles are subject to a visual inspection. A young lady was to check the interior while a young man speaking excellent English took Art around the rig to check each storage compartment and the car. He was very professional and polite, checking everything.

In the motorhome, the agent stepped up the first few steps and met Trekker face to face. A quick glance around and "Oh! OK" and she was done!

We reconnected the car and were on our way by 9:10. Quite a painless crossing all things considered!

We had rechecked our memory of the route with the agent yet still missed a turn. This was our third time through this crossing! The problem was that the signs were very clear until we met a T junction, where there were none! Left or Right? We seemed to remember that the turn was to the right and moved on. Then there was another intersection with ambiguous signs, we went straight through and in a few hundred meters realised that we should have turned left. Fortunately there was room for a U turn and we were soon on the road to Saltillo.

We still had to find the main immigration stop some 50 kilometers away but were reasonably confident that we would find this with out difficulty. Somewhere along these roads we spotted an OXXO, sort of a Mexican 7 Eleven, that we were relatively sure would be able to renew our cell phone pay and talk accounts. We pulled in and Art went back with our two phones.

Up dating our phones was simplicity itself: Art told the cashier he wanted to buy time on his cell phone. As she turned to her till she asked which one, Art replied Telcel, she said how much, 200 pesos was the reply. Then she waited. Eventually the light went on and Art handed her a 200 peso note. Next she asked the phone number, entered it into the till and DONE, Art's cell phone beeped, the balance had been updated! Gillian's phone was done as quickly and we were soon on our way. The last time we had bought time on these phones was leaving Mexico in the spring!

45 minutes later we arrived at the main customs and immigration stop. Here we would get our tourist permits and temporary vehicle import permit for the car. The motorhome already had a 10 year permit from several years ago. RVs, trailers and boats qualify for a 10 year permit while cars and motorcycles can only get the 6 month (180 day) permit.

As we left, paperwork done, we were flagged into an inspection area where once again we were checked out--papers looked over, storage bins checked, all very professional and friendly, and sent on our way, the time now 11:25.

From here we began the long slow climb to the high plateau country. Long, straight seemingly flat country, then a short sharp climb over a mountain range, then repeat. And repeat. And repeat.





One of the interesting rules of the roads here is that when there is a dashed line marking the shoulder traffic can drive on the shoulder on each side of the road to allow overtaking traffic to pass down the middle of the highway.






The highway and railroad were frequently side by side. The whistle of trains was to be an ongoing part of our Mexico travels. Sometimes in the distance, sometimes very close at hand!

Not to worry, this train was stopped!




We have heard stories about the municipal police along this stretch harassing tourists and trying for "La Mordida", the little bite, in other words, a bribe. On our two previous trips through here we had had not trouble--third one's the charm as they say!

Entering the town of Nueva Rosita from the toll road Art noticed a police pickup truck pull in behind. It followed us for half a kilometer or so then pulled us over. Even understanding more Spanish than we let on, it took a while to figure out what their concern was. The officers felt that since we were towing the car we should have our emergency flashers operating!

With many gestures, minimising our use of Spanish, Art pointed to the map of North America on the side of the rig indicating the places we have been, including some 20 Mexican states, saying that we have never had a problem in more than 100,000 kilometers of driving in Canada, USA and Mexico with this setup. He also pointed out the professional tow bar, the electrical connection that operated brake and signal lights on the car and the auxiliary braking system. They mumbled to each other for a bit then left us to carry on.

A couple of hours later we pulled off the road for a very quick lunch stop then proceeded into the city of Monclova. Here we were again stopped. The officers here wanted to see the permits for the vehicles even though the accompanying decals were prominently displayed on the windshields. We produced them, the officers examining them closely. Then they wanted our permit to tow. We told them that we had never in the 7 previous years in Mexico ever heard of such a permit. They were insistent. Art again pointed to the map, letting just a little of his annoyance show, demonstrated the tow bar, lights and braking system, and showing the date and time of the vehicle permit and explaining that we had been inspected immediately after leaving the check point. By now they realised that they were not going to get anywhere here, and Art felt that it was over.

Then the female police officer asked for the dogs' vaccination papers! Art's annoyance a little more obvious, the papers, in English of course, were produced and perused closely. One of the officers pounced on a word he recognised--TIA, which means aunt in Spanish, and wanted to know what my aunt had to do with this and where was she? Art took the other paper from the other officer and pointed out the word TREKKER in the same location, and said "it's the dog's NAME, su NOMBRE!" They seemed to realise that if they proceeded further they would make fools of themselves and we were free to go.

We must point out however, at no time was a fine or "infracion" mentioned or even hinted at, no suggestion that a few pesos would make the problems go away.

We were back on the road a few minutes after two, through the city traffic with out incident. Two years ago there had been a lot of construction with overpasses which was now almost finished, making the drive though the city much easier and faster.

Following another two hours of highway much like before we were entering the outskirts of Saltillo and arrived at the Hotel Imperial Trailer Park at 5:10 PM, 20 minutes later than our arrival time of 2 years ago.

Art began the setup procedure by checking the available electric power. The first few outlets showed an open ground, the next (and also next best location for satellite TV reception) a hot-neutral reversal. The outlet next to that tested OK so he parked where he hoped for satellite reception and ran an extension cord to the good receptacle. The voltage was quite high, around 130V, and we later noticed that the power had been off once or twice while during our stay. The Xantrex inverter cuts the incoming power if it strays beyond the voltage and frequency parameters we have set.

When Gillian returned from the doggy walk everything was up and running. We had been promised WiFi in the lobby but hopefully switched on the laptop in the rig and we had internet! For a while. We just had time to read the e-mails and reply to two of them when it went off line. It was intermittent for most of our stay.

Three years ago, leaving a restaurant here in Saltillo we had noticed a Mexican couple admiring the dogs in our Chevy tracker. We approached and mutual introductions were made. Jesus noticed the “Victoria” on the license plate frame and said to his wife Marta “Victoria is the capital city of British Columbia.” We were astounded! Jesus explained that they had traveled through Victoria and BC's lower mainland while on a cruise to Alaska a few years before. We have maintained e-mail contact ever since.

Cell phones working, we phoned Jesus and Marta and made arrangements to meet for a breakfast next morning.

We watched the news from home, had a well earned drink, a wonderful home-made sweet and sour pork dinner and went to bed.

First chore in the morning, after a holding bowl of cereal and a cup of tea, was to clean dead bugs off the windshield—an ongoing obligation. While at it Art gave the front cap—both above and below the windshield-- a swipe and the dirt and bug debris came off easily. The energy put into the wax job a few days ago had paid off.

Jesus and Marta arrived just as Art finished the cleaning and took us to “Pour La France!” one of their favourite restaurants in the city. A French restaurant, it also served excellent traditional Mexican food. Gillian went with a quiche, Art with a traditional local dish of dried beef and scrambled eggs with peppers and onions. On our way out we paused for a group photo using the timer--third time it worked!

From there they took us to the highest point of the city to visit the small spring after which the city was named 450 years ago. A salto is a water fall, saltillo a little waterfall. Here on the hilltop was a spring (ojo de agua) which fell down the hillside. Click to read the plaque.

A large church has been built over the spring but the spring itself has been protected in a tiny crypt built under the church. Of interest is that the water from that small spring has been flowing for more than half a millenium and today is directed into the city water system.

Of even more interest on a physical or scientific front, is that the spring flows from the highest point of the city. The water must come from the surrounding mountains many miles away.

Here are a couple of high resolution telephoto shots taken from the top of the hill. Click to enlarge, don't forget to use the "<" at the top left of your screen to return to the blog.

As the best guide, to prevent us getting lost, Art had been riding with Jesus and Marta with Gillian. We continued this arrangement until we were safely back at the park. Jesus said he may drop by later and invited us to their home for lunch the next day.

Left to our own resources Gillian took the dogs for a walk then settled in for a read in the sun while Art claimed the couch for his nap.

Just after dark a van pulled into the park. Art went over to warn him about the unreliable power and check the outlet in the space he had pulled into. All was fine. Art also warned him about the occasional high voltage and invited him over for a drink once he got settled in.

Bob is from Ontario, on his way to Tierra del Fuego, the southern tip of South America! We had a great chat, offering a few ideas as we had been there (by air) some five years ago. There was a knock at the door—It was Jesus and Jesus--father and son. We passed a pleasant hour or so, looking at maps and suggested routes for us and for Bob.

They went their way, we had our dinner (grilled lamb chops Mmmmmmmmmmm!) watched some TV , happy to be here, and reflecting on serendipity.

During the afternoon and evening Art had been working on the blog but the wireless connection was not cooperating, dropping regularly. Actually it dropped irregularly, but frequently! He switched between writing about New Orleans on the blog page and writing these words on the word processor every time the internet went down! He finally gave up and went to bed.

The next day Jesus arrived to lead us to their home on the opposite side of town. Most of the route would be on the periferico (ring road) that we would need to take on our way south. We had used the periferico on previous trips, but a large section had been added at the end, where we would turn south and an equally large section in the middle was being rebuilt, which resulted in a long detour through city streets.

Following Jesus would hopefully make the drive less stressful the following day! Fortunately, and uncommonly in Mexico, the detour was very well signed all along, up coming corners noted well in advance. Click the pic for detail.

At the end of the new part of the periferico we turned right, crossed a large two way street and soon we were entering their community. This was a real maze. Jesus said that their friends almost always get lost when coming to visit. We probably could have followed their directions to the entrance to to their colonia but certainly needed the guide for the last several blocks!

We had a very pleasant afternoon with them in their beautiful home. We spent an hour or so chatting about our respective travels. We were called to the table and treated to wonderful typical Mexican meal where conversation continued, then again to the living room for coffee and desert. Our Spanish conversation skills were certainly getting a workout! They both speak English so the conversation switched back and forth. Unfortunately most of the photos came out blurred. He should have used the flash!

Soon Marta had to leave for a meeting in town, coincidentally near the hotel, so we followed her car for most of the way back. Left behind at a couple of traffic lights Marta pulled over to wait for us, though we were very soon in familiar territory and would have made out fine.

At one intersection the light began to flash as we approached so Art stopped ( as he was supposed to do) but we were jolted by a thump as the car behind rear ended the Tracker with the electric bike on its rack. Art got out to investigate, discovering one of the bike's pedals had disappeared into the grill of the car behind, and two terrified young girls in the car having visions of La Policia, jail and who knows what.

Art gestured to the young lady driving to back up slowly; the pedal tore out with a bit of screeching metal, apparently unharmed. A cursory inspection of the bike and the back of our car revealed no noticeable damage so telling the girls it was ok, he got back in the car and set off to find Martha halfway down the block waiting.

Without further incident we arrived back at the rig where Gillian took the dogs for a walk and Art poured himself a drink.

Texas! October 30-November 6

After a good relaxing afternoon and evening in Louisiana we were ready to move again, this time along the I-10 the road to Texas. We have been in Texas before but never from this side.



We left the RV park at 10:15, travelling through much of the same countryside.





A couple of hours into the trip we made a fuel stop just east of Houston at a Flying J, one of our popular fuel locations as they are usually RV friendly, some even having a dump station. At this one however, the pay at the pump option wanted a zip code which of course as Canadians we don't have. Our postal codes don't work.

Gillian had taken the dogs our for a break so Art went inside asking them to please turn on pump number 14. The cashier said "how much do you want"? Art said "full, don't know exactly how much it will take". She said "how much do you want me to validate it for"? Art explained that he wanted it filled and no more, that putting a larger amount on the credit card and then crediting the card for any excess costs us money on the difference between the buy and sell exchange rate and he wouldn't do it in principle. He would go across the highway to Love's, their competitor and they just lost a 50 or 60 gallon sale from a formerly loyal customer.

Across the street the Visa card was accepted at the pump, we filled, and went on our way, Art happy with his complimentary coffee.



We negotiated the Houston North Loop and its very light traffic and were running north-east on highway 290 towards Austin. Here the scenery changed to more like what we had visualised as Texas.


About 2 o'clock we stopped in a vacant lot for a lunch break along the 290. Nearing Austin we turned north on the 95 then west again on the 77 to the town of Round Rock.

This is where were we were to visit an old girlfriend of Art's whom he hadn't seen since high school when she was 16! They had made brief contact via the website Classmates.com sears several years ago and since we would be in the area he sent and e-mail and here we were.



We arrived in front of the house at 5:00 pm, Veronica wasn't due home from work for another hour, so we spent the hour tiding the motorhome. Art notice that we had picked up more than the normal amount of bugs on the front of the motorhome. Must be too close to Hallowe'en.

Ronni arrived in due time, wife of 35 years introduced to girlfriend of 45 years ago without incident. We spent an hour or so chatting, we were told that we should not leave without sampling the local donuts and were offered a tour of some of the historic sites. We made our way back the way we came for several miles to the RV park for the night.


Other than the frequent trains across the highway we had a pretty good sleep. After the dogs were fed and exercised we called Veronica to see when and where to meet and made our way there without incident.


The donuts were superb! There was a bit of a delay while we waited for the glazed donuts to come out of the fryer. . . have you ever tasted donuts that were almost too hot to eat? Mmmmmmm. Art managed three--two glazed and one chocolate covered. And he got one of their special cinnamon rolls to go!






From here we had a very short drive to the park marking part of the Chisholm Trail, the path of very long cattle drives from south Texas to the northern railroads. Here is where Round Rock got its name, from the landmark rock in the river at a natural ford. So many wagons crossed the ford they left ruts in the rock of the river bed. The authorities have placed brick into the ruts to preserve them.



We enjoyed strolling around, Trekker his dip in Bushy Creek, and Art visualising herds of hundreds of Texas Longhorn cattle crossing the ford and continuing up the trail on the way north to the rails .











Back to the rig, dumped holding tanks and refilled fresh water tank, we were south bound at 3:20 on the I-35 through Austin to Campingworld in New Braunfels (north of San Antonio) where we had an awning waiting to be installed over the bedroom window. We arrived at 5:00 PM, parked and set up for the night.

Come dinner time we went looking for a place to eat and chanced upon a funky authentic looking Mexican restaurant where we had a very enjoy meal. The staff were anything but Mexican but the food and margaritas were excellent.

At 8:00 AM we booked in for our appointment then went for breakfast. After miles of chasing down suggestions from the GPS we gave up and finally settled on the restaurant attached to a TA Travel Plaza. The food was good, typical truck stop fare, but we did OK.

The job was done quickly, ready in an hour or so, but it took well over an hour to locate a part that Roadmaster had sent to us at the CampingWorld address. This was a warranty replacement for a gravel guard between the car and the motorhome. Once Art found the right person to ask we got the package and went on to our next stop, just south of San Antonio.

While at New Braunfels we had gone scouting for Trekker's grain free dogfood. It is impossible to find in Mexico so we have to take a supply with us. We found a good selection in a pet store not far from CampingWorld and knowing that there was no room in the car for four bags while the dogs were in the back we decided to stop on our way south.

Of course by the time we were on the freeway southbound we had forgotten all about it. At the last second Art exclaimed "*#(%!" and peeled out of traffic onto the exit ramp. Startled, Gillian said "what's the matter?" "Dog food" was the reply as we entered the shopping centre.

We easily found Braunig Lake RV Resort in Elmsdorf, just off highway 37, essentially in San Antonio. In fact their address used to be San Antonio.

We had asked our friends at home to forward our mail to the DHL depot in San Antonio. They would (we hoped) be sending it off today. At the campground Art had an idea! We checked with the RV Park office, Art phoned James' cell--not available--and left a message, also sending an e-mail, giving the campground address James called back, he had received the e-mail and was on his way to DHL, having been in a meeting all morning. We should have it in a couple of days!

While at CampingWorld Gillian had noticed a small oil spot on the ground where we had been parked. We could see what appeared to be a small leak at the rear of the motorhome, there was a small amount of oil with a few drops of oil on the underside of the the engine!

Art checked the oil; it was down slightly but not enough to require topping up. On the internet we located a Freightliner shop not too far away ( we're getting good at this!) and called to talk with the service department.

We were told to bring it in first thing in the morning, they would probably get to it in the afternoon.



7:45 next morning we dropped the motorhome off at Freightliner and went looking for breakfast. There wasn't much on the GPS nearby--other than fast foods, but more by good luck than anything else we found a Mexican Restaurant that was full of Mexicans! A very good sign.





After an excellent breakfast we went exploring historic San Antonio, first to Mission San Jose, one of the several Missions in the area. The attached visitors centre had may displays, including this one, a typical "Day of the Dead" shrine.




















Again more by good luck than careful planning we had come across the mission that was in the best condition and best restored. We spent quite a bit of time here, enjoying the place very much then moved on to what is probably the best known of the Missions, Misson San Antonio del Vaslero, or "The Alamo".


The Alamo is right in the centre of town. Parking was a bit of a problem but we found a place where there was a bit of a breeze, set up the sun shade and reflector for the dogs and set off. It was not what we were expecting, but it was very good and very interesting. The most unreal part were the gardens planted in what would have been the centre courtyard. Instead of the dust and dirt of the dry open space we had visualised (probably influenced by the old John Wayne movie) there were many shade trees and foot paths. Click on the picture of the plaque to enlarge it.


















By the time we were though here we were famished--well past lunch time, so we went looking. An old bar in a large hotel looked promising until we opened the door. The acrid stench from the cloud of tobacco smoke drove us out even before we crossed the threshold.




Across the street, near the intersection of Alamo Plaza and Crocket, (Bowie was next street over!) we found what appeared to be an Irish Bar. It was nothing like, had a terrible selection of beers but the food was good--lots of Cajun dishes!



Back to the parking lot we let the dogs out for a quick break then headed across town to Freightliner to see how they were doing. They hadn't started it, it was possible but unlikely that they would get to it tonight though they were open until midnight. The motorhome was parked in what was obviously an RV spot--30 Amp RV connections, water and sewer as well. When we mentioned sleeping there for the night we were told that we could not. They locked the gate at midnight!

Art suggested that we would take the rig and be back waiting outside the gates when they opened at 7:30 next morning. He was told that if the rig left the lot we would loose our place in line and would be back on the bottom of the stack!

Art was not pleased. The leak appeared to be small, he would keep an eye on it, got the keys and we pulled out of the yard a few minutes after 5:00PM!



By 5:30 we were parked again. Note in the picture you can tell the Canadian rigs by the StarChoice dishes on the roof. The two rigs in the right front are from Quebec and both have the same automatic dish mechanism as ours (on the left).




We spent the next few days waiting for our mail and pottering around the park and, believe it or not, working on the blog. We had a pretty good internet connection but uploading photos to the blog was often painfully slow.


On a bit of an austerity program we ate mostly at home, having had an awful lot of restaurant meals lately! Not that we are suffering, food has has been great. Here are a couple of examples. The dishwasher is a bit slow sometimes.




We checked the DHL web site frequently, tracking our mail and were delighted to see it arrive in the United States so quickly. Then we watched it sit for two days, held up by US Customs. Friday morning we noted that it was back in the hands of DHL and being sent on. We hoped that there would be a Saturday delivery. Imagine our surprise when about noon the same a golf cart pulled up along side the rig with our mail!

We dealt with a few thing that would best be taken care of right away as some required sending things through the mail. I know that we Canadians and Americans too are fond of complaining about postal service but we were not going to use El Correo if we could avoid it. Gillian went off on the car in search of a post office and returned shortly. One of our postal chores was sending off Christmas Cards to those of our friends don't have internet!



11:00 Saturday morning we left on our last day's journey in the United States. North a bit then west on the I-410, the San Antonio ring road exiting southwest on the I-35 for 30 miles where we turned west on highway 57 to Eagle Pass. This was the Texas landscape that we always visualised.

We have been through Eagle Pass twice before and always managed to get lost. "Well at least we know where we are going this time." Famous last word. Entering the town he who was driving missed a left turn. Easily corrected at the next intersection we arrive in the Walmart parking lot at 2:0 PM.

While Art disconnected the car and temporarily parked the vehicles Gillian took the dogs for a much deserved walk. Art then went in to check with customer service about staying for the night. We were given permission, but neither representative could remember which part of the parking lot we were supposed to use. Art suggested that he ask security (he had noticed on of their trucks in front of the main entrance) which proved to be a good idea. The security guard out side said we were in the right area, all was well.

Art had hoped to be parked over a couple of rows alongside a grassy area and well out of the way of the many vehicles that seemed to race across the parking area perpendicular to the traffic lanes with no regard to traffic driving the right way. There were a few close calls in front of the motorhome as we blocked the view of cross traffic. Eventually the last vehicle that had been parked where we wanted to be had left, we got level, jacks down and slides out.


Tomorrow, Mexico!