Cracked, Emergency, Marty, Part 3
The drive to Gonzaga was peaceful, but quiet. We were all tired but grateful to be on the ground and headed towards our destination. The road was
like it is always, with the potholes being the worst.
We arrive mid-afternoon to a beautiful blue sky, calm sea and HOT! weather. But all in all we had no complaints. We get the trailers up and running
and head to the cantina for an early dinner. Some friends, Mike Child and J.C. show up while we're eating and we chat with them for awhile, telling
them of our adventure the day before. Our stomachs are full. Life is good. We go to sleep early.
Saturday, September 20
I awake early for I have lots of work to do. I hear a commotion coming from next door and I wonder what Heather is up to so early in the morning. I
walk next door to find John banging around in his truck. "When did you get here" I ask. He informs me that he and Gene decided to drive on down when
their business with the commandante was finished. Gene is to be back in Mexicali bright and early Monday morning to meet with insurance people. "Did
you bring Tom and Tom too?" I inquire. "No" John replies. "They were having too good of a time and decided to stay at The Lucerna. They hired and
car and driver to take them home tomorrow." I talk with John a little longer and then go about my business.
The reason for this trip is that we're bringing down 14 family members in a little over a week and we want the place ready. We bust butt all
morning, getting a lot accomplished. The afternoon finds us doing the baja thing...relaxing, sipping on cold beers and finally, ahh, the siesta.
Earlier in the day, we invited Gene and Heather and John over for dinner.
Early evening finds me doing dinner preparations in expectation of our guests. Gene, John and Heather arrive and John informs us that they have
decided to leave early on Sunday morning. Sure, we got a lot done today, but we're not finished. There is no way we can leave tomorrow. I inform
Mike that I can drive down to casa #1 and see if Mike Child has room for us in his plane and if he'd be willing to fly us home. About this time, Gene
hands me a Mexicali newspaper. Lo and behold, we made the news. Not only the newspaper, but I guess the local news on T.V. too. Newspaper in hand,
Heather and I head down to Mike's house. We arrive and read him the story, and I ask if he'd be willing to give us a ride home. (Am I crazy, do I
really want to get back in an airplane? - Not really, but the pacifico's had me feeling brave at this moment.) Mike says "Sure, we're leaving Tuesday
at 10 a.m. and flying into Long Beach." "Perfect" I tell him and it's a done deal.
We head back home. Dinner goes well and everyone is content. Mike and Gene head down to Gene's to play some poker. John and Heather head off to who
know's where and I lay down on the hammock and fall immediately asleep.
Sunday, September 21
We awake to another hot day. We're feeling very lethargic after everything we've been through. We are having a difficult time finding any real
ambition. We lounge around all morning, alternating between just relaxing and floating in the warm Sea of Cortez.
Mid-morning we say our good-byes and thank-you's to John and Heather. We also bid our good-byes to Gene and wish him luck with the plane (it's still
be guarded by 2 uniformed officers).
Later, we found some much needed ambition and Mike decides it's time to clean out the shed. He pulls EVERYTHING out. He has stuff scattered behind
both trailers, looking like a bad garage sale. Mike Child pulls up about 1:35 and asks us (as he's looking around with a doubtful look on his face)
if we can be ready to go in 2 hours. "Why, what's goin' on" we ask. "Got a weather system coming in, something close to a hurricane" he replies. We
tell him that there's no problem, we'll be ready. We start frantically putting things away, when, 20 minutes later, Mike pulls back up and shouts
"JUST KIDDING." He went and checked on the weather and informed us that whatever it is that is coming, we'd still be ok to fly out early the next
morning. "See you tomorrow" he shouts as he drives off.
We breathe a sigh of relief and go back to work at a slower pace. Much slower on my part. When I believed I was going to be climbing back into an
airplane, I realized I wasn't ready, nor prepared to do so and starting drinking Pacifico's as quick as I could.
It's still hot. Very hot as a matter of fact. Not a cloud in the sky. But later that afternoon, a much needed breeze starts to blow. Minutes
later, it turned into a full blown wind. But with us both working hard, we didn't mind. The wind doesn't last long and we head down for a swim.
Still no clouds in sight. We get cleaned up and head to the cantina for our last night's dinner.
After dinner, we head back, finish putting things away and enjoy a peaceful evening sitting on the beach, talking. We head off to bed, confident
we've accomplished all we wanted to and ready to leave the next day, with not much left to do in the morning.
4:00 a.m. Tuesday morning
I awake to the trailer shaking like nothing I've ever felt before. I try desperately to think of what we left outside. Holy crud....the
hammock....John's cot....the old, but really good coleman lantern. We scramble to find our clothes and go to open the trailer door and it practically
gets ripped out of our hands. The coleman is no where in sight. The hammock and cot have flown up onto the patio, laying against the picnic table,
and they are soaked and seem incapable of going anywhere at the moment. We dash back into the trailer to find the keys to lock the bathroom door and
the shed. By the time it's time to go back in the trailer, it's blowing so hard we can barely open the door.
I lay in bed, awake, listening to mother nature, and realize, there's no way we'll be going home today.
To be continued.....
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