Sonoyta

For the first time in my life I have driven into Mexico. In 1971, while we were stationed at MCB Twenty Nine Palms in California, R and I rode with friends down to Ensenada, Mexico for the week-end. Now, 41 years later, we again ventured into the country to our south.

The reason for the trip was food. Food can be a powerful draw. We were invited to dinner at the home of a friend who lives in Sonoyta. So six of us volunteers piled in our pickup, four in another vehicle and we drove the five miles down to the border. I had emptied the bed of the truck and rolled back the tonneau cover so that the border agents would not have any questions. I cleaned out the interior and even washed the truck. I’m not sure why I washed the truck. Maybe the border agents would treat me better or be less suspicious if my truck was clean.
With apprehension, I eased my vehicle slowly across the international threshold. A series of speed bumps, a couple of stop signs, a wave-on by a uniformed agent and we were in Mexico. No explosions, no gun toting drug runners, no dirty barking dogs. And the road was even paved!
Just past the entry gate I located (with help of my passengers) the small office that sells Mexican insurance. Full coverage for my truck was $20 for 24 hours. The insurance form required my vehicle vin number, my Oregon license number, and either my drivers’ license number or my passport number. All that was easy and after a signature and a twenty dollar bill, the paperwork was completed. By the time I got back to the truck, our hostess arrived and we followed her through downtown Sonoyta. I was paying close attention to my driving and trying to follow the other car, so I did not see much of the town, but what I did see reminded me that we were no longer in the US.
A couple of left turns and a right brought us to our destination, a modest but nice house. The interior was neat and clean, with large tiles on the floor. Two tables were placed end-to-end with extra chairs around them in anticipation of the guests and a wonderful smell was coming from the kitchen.
In a few minutes we were sitting down at the table. Sopes ( so PEE ahs) were the fare for the evening. I’ve never had sopes before. Not sure what all the ingredients were, but it was good! The initial portion on my plate consisted of three sopes, but I managed to consume another.
After plenty of great food and great conversation, we reloaded our truck and the mini caravan headed back toward the US. After a short drive we were back at the crossing. I rolled down all of the windows before reaching the northbound speed bumps. I gathered up six passports and handed them to border agent. I was expecting to see him stamp them but I guess they just scan them now. After less then five minutes, the agent called out our names and handed the passports back to us. No frisking, no body searches, no hassles.
My passport is not a virgin any more. Yipee!