Friday, July 7th, 1995

Day 13: Nautla, Mexico to Texas...

Sunrise over the Gulf on our last day in Mexico

As I wake to the smell of cool salt air, I slowly become aware that this is our last day in this magical country.  The next time we park this truck it will be in Clemson, South Carolina.  That's pretty incredible, considering where we are on the globe.

Sean and I are fairly quiet as we drive north.  We are turned inwards, reflecting on the trip which already seems behind us.  "This has been the longest and shortest two weeks of my life," Sean tells me.

About 200 miles south of the border, the bugs are so thick they look like big black snowflakes as they race towards us and pop up over the windshield.  Not all of them make it, unfortunately, and we peer out at the world through a Technicolor nightmare of bug guts and butterfly wings.  We must be witnessing some sort of butterfly migration.  For miles and miles they drift across the road from west to east.

We are stopped quite a few times for drug inspection.  Once while Sean is driving, they make me stand on the shoulder as they display their large weapons in a mildly threatening manner.  They are all business when inspecting people driving north towards the border.

I later drive up to two inspections that are a bit more casual.  The first ends with the inspectors half-jokingly asking me to give them lunch money.  I laugh in their faces.  We've been in Mexico too long for that.  The last inspection is the most thorough, but enjoyable.  Five agents swarm around the truck as I stop.  They are joking and laughing and generally just having a good time.  But when it comes time to check out the truck, they too are all business.  We park under an overhang and unload most of our bags.  Many things are opened and inspected, and again the floorboards are combed for pot seeds and the body panels get a thorough thumping.  As we leave, one agent offers me a small metal toy depicting two people fornicating in exchange for our spare headlight.  I am tempted, but restrain myself.

We reach the border around six, and after an hour of massive confusion in the customs office, we are back in the States.

Entering the United States at Matamoros

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