Driving Northern Mexico - more Day 2 - Austin to Guadalajara

Free from Immigration in Nuevo Laredo with all the right papers and our vehicle permit proudly displayed on the windshield behind the rear view mirror we follow our directions to the famed Toll Road. Mexico has been intently improving it's roadways and now has a fairly good road system throughout parts of the country. We'd be able to travel 75% of our trip on these tolls roads. They are smooth, four lanes wide and very much like highways in U.S.

Well ....the road signs say we're on the toll road but alas, we're on a two lane road - and we haven't seen any tolls. Are we lost already? I think not. We're heading in the right direction and I'm confident we'll hit the toll booth eventually - and importantly, the road is in good condition.

The U.S. shadows our left shoulder for a short time along the Rio Grande before we plunge south to the heart of Mexico. The landscape still looks like the southern Texas lowlands but we are definitely and immediately in Mexico. A lot of the roads off the main highway are now gravel & dirt. Plain painted adobe style roadside shops and restaurants open to the elements with no doors and windows, worn by usage and baked by the sun populate the road every few miles. Mechanics and employees work in the outdoors and stare as we cruise past.

Finally we get to a red light/green light toll that's another inland immigration check. We're a little nervous not knowing what to expect but we get a green light and are waved through. We drove through three Federales (Mexican Federal Police) roadblocks on the trip too - every time wondering what would happen. Each time they just looked as us, yelled something and waved us touristas on through.

As the miles slip by the landscape reminds me of eastern Colorado and Wyoming and then New Mexico but all reference fades away when we see these tress that look like cactuses with palm trees on top. They dot the enormous landscape in front of us and we begin to see the Sierra Madre mountain range rise in the distance.


































Further south as we get nearer to Monterrey we enter the first of an endless string of enormous valleys that we are destined to drive through. There must be various micro-climates through out central Mexico because some were green and some were arid but all were inexpressibly large and beautiful - awe inspiring.























As we approach Monterrey it's time to stop and gas up. We can see the city of 3.8 million people to the south nestled up against the Sierra Madre. We pull into a PemEx gas station (a state owned monopoly). I'm driving at this point. At every filling pump there is a guy in a sharp looking uniform whipping his arms beckoning me to come to their pump like a matador trying to lure a bull to their cape. Having become used to self-serve I freeze for a moment looking at eight guys hustling and performing for my business... I choose a pump and pull in. I get out and not understanding a word of what the pump man is asking I say "fill it up". He nods. Another young kid in uniform runs over and starts to clean the windows. Everything is going smoothly. With the fill up done I ask in English, using as much international sign language and gesturing as I can muster, "do I pay here or do I go inside". The guy says "you pay me". Hmmm. Why don't I believe him - I haven't paid a gasoline attendant personally since the 70's! I look around. I don't see any cash registers or credit card swipers and I remember we were told to bring cash because gas stations don't accept credit cards. I warily pull out my money and peel off 100 Pesos, or whatever it cost, and didn't the attendant pull out a fat roll of cash from his uniform shirt pocket just like an attendant at a Mobil or Esso gas station back in the 60's or 70's! He gives me my change. I give him a tip - I think you're supposed to tip everybody. Anyway I give him a tip. These are full grown family men trying to earn a decent living. They are not owners, they are not mechanics, they do not run the store inside. Their only job is to pump the gas. I try to tell him to tip the window washer kid. I'm not sure he got that concept.

My mind starts time slicing. It's 2009 but it also feels like the 60's when I was a kid or the early 20th century - I'd flash on thoughts or memories of the U.S. as it used to be in simpler times, in slower times and sometimes in less safety conscious times over and over again as the trip progressed.

Before we hit the road again we pop into the store/diner that's a part of this PemEx complex. It's modern. It could be a diner/convenient store combo anywhere in the U.S. and the bathrooms even had a toilet seat and toilet paper!

We hit the highway again and skirt around Monterrey to the north going through it's industrial hinterlands and threading cool canyons.

We are now pointed west heading into central Mexico.




To read about my whole road trip from the beginning - Austin to Lake Chapala Mexico click here.