Limping Home

Upon hitting the northernmost regions of Mexico, our sentimental Günther has protested in the most inconvenient of ways. It seems he's grown quite attached to life south of the border, preferring to bask in the constant sunshine of carefree retiree livin'. We've had to drag him kicking and sputtering through the intense heat of the Sonora desert, relying on the ingenuity of Mexican Mechanics.


In case your experience with Mexican Mechanics is limited, allow me to enlighten you. They are the most rapid, straightforward, and creative repairmen around. Who needs the Capitalistic society of "parts" and "factory settings" when all you really need is a length of recycled hose, some spliced wires, a toggle switch, and a few second-hand clamps? Appointments, estimates, waiting? Try same-day service, 20 bucks, and jerry-rigging galore. It may not be the Volkswagen Dealership Standard, but it certainly beats tooling around Navajoa when all you really want is return to the sweet soil of Home.




Speaking of which, we are a mere day away from the Nogales Arizona border. Strange, yet true. Our main focus right now is marathonning it back to Los Angeles, until we hear the sweet comforting rattle of our tailpipe echoing in the driveway on Fairfax. What comes next is up in the air, as the fine Mexican dust settles and we take time to look at the result of our lives after nearly a year straight on the road.


- Rach