The border crossing at La Mesilla was very quiet and we quickly got all the formalities done and crossed into Mexico at Ciudad Cuauhtémoc. Except for the usual money changers, the Mexican side of the border was equally quiet. We reported to one of the two official buildings and they took our fruit that we had purchased in Guatemala and then told us the official customs offices were a kilometer down the road. When we reached the customs office, there was no one there either trying to sell things or trying to cross the border. In order to cross into Mexico, however, you must post a $200 bond. They would only take a credit card from the owner of the car and, since Dad refuses to carry credit cards, we would have had to pay in cash. The Officer was very friendly and when we realized that we did not have the $200 American funds for the bond, he suggested that we drive to the nearest town that, according to him was "just up the road", get the money and then return for the bond.

        "Just up the road" turned out to be about 20 kilometers but we missed the turnoff so ended going a further 10 kilometers. When we finally found some banking machines, Dad discovered that he did not have his banking card and concluded that he had left it in a banking machine in El Salvador. The banking machines only dispensed pesos and, in order to get the money changed to American funds, we would have had to stand in a line-up that snaked out the door and down the street. We had lunch in town and then returned to the border where I had the money changed, completed all the paper work and photocopying, and had the car inspected before we could be on our way. This would have been the most pleasant border crossing of the trip to date but we ended up wasting two hours without a credit card or cash.

        Driving through the mountains of Chiapas, we reached San Cristobol in the dark. Dad suggested that we ask someone the best route to follow but I convinced him that I had it all figured out from the map. This turned out to be a bad move. We stocked up on groceries and continued through the mountains in the dark looking for a place to camp where I had stopped a few months earlier. We finally found the spot and set up camp for the night.

        On December 18, we started the drive down the mountain into Tuxtla, the capital of Chiapas when the front tire went flat. We were on a sharp curve on a very narrow, winding road but we managed to pull over enough to get the tire changed. When I took the wheel off, I discovered that the hub was extremely hot and appeared to have siezed. We put the spare on and continued the roller coast ride into Tuxtla looking for a repair shop. We drove through town and came to a large intersection. There were no signs indicating where the road went but I was convinced it was the correct road so we turned around and started down the Highway. There was a big sign that said something about construction but we ignored that. The road was wide with not a car in sight. We arrived at a toll booth but they just waved us through. This all seemed very strange. After about an hour of driving, we realized why the road was so quiet. It came to a dead-end at a huge lake where they were still constructing a bridge. We turned around and headed back to the main Highway having wasted about two hours. We drove to Ocozocoentla and found a place to have the tire repaired but the tire was beyond repair so Dad was forced to buy a new tire.

        We headed to Oaxaca through the windy zone that I had passed through several months before, and then turned north toward the Caribbean. We finally came to a four-lane toll Highway which allowed us to fly along; but the tolls were so frequent and expensive, that we decided to get back on the side road. The side roads are free but they are in terrible shape, go through every little town and city, and use speed bumps abundantly to slow the traffic. By the time we reached Cordoba, it was dark but we did not want to stop in the city. It seemed to take forever to get through Cordoba but we finally reached the outskirts and found a corn field to set up the tent.

        On December 19, we soon reached a huge wall of mountains. The road became an insane roller coaster ride zigzagging back and forth. The Mexicans have resorted to a system of swapping lanes at the last second so that trucks can make it around the impossible curves. Giant arrows painted on the road indicated that the lane swapping was starting. This nightmare went on for several kilometers as the climb continued. It became considerably cooler as we got higher. When we finally reached the top, the road opened up into a flat plain that led upward toward Puebla and another wall of mountains which were snow covered.

        We had a great deal of difficulty finding our way through Puebla but, after a lot of driving around, we finally found our way back to Highway 190 and carried on through numerous small towns on our way to Mexico City. We passed under the main freeway that I had traveled on with my bike, over the mountains that surround Mexico City, and back down into the valley where Mexico City is situated.

        As we entered the urban area, we were pulled over by the police. They didn't speak English but from what I understood, he wanted to show me something at the back of the car. We get out and he pointed to the third number on the license plate. I played dumb but I remembered that Mexico City has a law about only driving on certain days with certain numbers on your plates. I was not sure how this could apply to a foreign car but I tried to explain to my father about the law that is suppose to control the pollution problem. I could tell that my father's temper was rising again as he tried to grab my driver's license from the police officer. He then decided to move the car to a parking lot and I was left standing at the side of the road with the two cops.

        I tried to determine how much the fine would cost but they didn't seem to understand what I was saying. I told them I would have to go to a bank to get some money and they thought I was trying to bribe them and became more frustrated. Finally, I concluded that they were saying the fine was 4000 pesos or about $400 US. A group of people, hanging around an outdoor restaurant, realized our predicament and said that we should not pay more than 50 pesos. One of the men from the group started talking to the police and returned to explain that we couldn't drive on Thursday with that particular number. I had already figured that out and just wanted to know how much to pay. He returned to negotiate with the police and came back saying they wanted 100 pesos. We paid the fine and agreed not to drive till 10 pm that night when the curfew would be lifted. As the police started to leave, I realized that they still had my driver's license. Carlos ran after them and recovered my license and we thanked him for all his help. We discovered that he was a muscian in a Mariachi band when he gave us a copy of his latest CD.

        We had lunch at the road side restaurant then returned to the car to wait till the 10 pm curfew. Someone from the car wash behind the restaurant came over to tell us we couldn't park there but after I explained our problem she suggested we move the car nearer the car wash. I then decided, since we had so much time to kill, that we clean out the car and put it through the car wash. With that done, we waited a couple more hours before we could be on our way. We made our way around Mexico City and found the four lane Highway heading towards the Carribean. We were able to make good time on the relatively flat road until we ran into a wall of fog. We decided to stop and rest for awhile till the fog cleared.

        On December 20, we continued through the mountains in hazy conditions. The good four lane Highway soon ended and we were back on terrible roads winding through the mountains. As we started to descend into the valley, we stopped at a store to buy some bread but they only had something resembling bread sticks. We bought the large family-size package, enough to last us a life time!