The Road to Puerto Escondido

In lieu of AJ’s injury he decided it would be best to fly home and recuperate, I wish him the best. I initially intended to do this trip solo, so the adjustment has been easy; the long drives are a bit lonelier however.

           After his departure I retraced my path back north a little to check out Tronconnes and Saladita. Finding no significant surf in Saladita I decided to camp out in Tronconnes for the night. The town was eerily quiet and dotted with for sale signs in front of the relatively swanky looking hotels. I inquired about a few rooms but they were all way overpriced considering there was hardly anyone there. I ended up camping in the parking lot of Jacqueline’s restaurant for a few dollars. The waves were mediocre that afternoon but at least I had it all to myself with not one other soul in the water. I cooked up my last package of American imported mac and cheese and called it a night.

No more than an hour later the night sky began to grumble and gargle, indicating an approaching thunderstorm. The first bolt of lightning was fantastic, traversing the clouds in an erratic fashion while illuminating the darkness with a neon purple glow. I grabbed my camera and started fooling with the shutter speed to hopefully capture some of the action. Some of the most magnificent displays of the vibrant bolts were hard to capture, leaving me with a lot of overexposed shots. I did manage to get a few good ones though.            

When I picked my place to camp I failed to consider the neighboring house, which had what seemed like a dozen roosters when 5 a.m. rolled around. I don’t know how people sleep through that stuff, but I guess that’s the point, they’re supposed to be nature’s most obnoxious alarm clock. The waves hadn’t improved by morning so I hit the road to Puerto Escondido.

It seems the further south you go in Mexico the roads just get worse. Additionally, the topes (speed bumps) get larger and more frequent. Although the coastal highway, Mex 200, looks like a legitimate road on any map, it’s really more of a curvy, deteriorated, glorified path full of suspension-rattling potholes that can literally rip your whole wheel off (I’ve seen it). The 11 hour drive from Zihautanejo to Puerto Escondido is probably the single most stressful day of driving I’ve ever experienced in my life. To start things off I had to skid to a stop to avoid hitting a full grown cow who had decided to take a break from grazing and stand in the middle of the road on a blind curve. The best part was the poor beast didn’t even seem phased as my rig screeched to a halt no more than five feet from colliding with her. She just stood there chewing her cud like this was an everyday occurrence; I'm beginning to think it may very well be.

From there I continued on even more alert than before, ready for just about anything. Just when I thought the probability of encountering any other problems had diminished I was flagged down at a military checkpoint and asked to step out of the car. They asked some generic questions and, having nothing to hide, I answered them honestly. Still skeptical they brought over the largest Rottweiler I’ve ever seen and let her make an assessment as well. As she sniffed through the car I stood there, arms crossed, confident that I would be on my way in a minute or two. The Rottweiler started to growl and then barked from inside the back of the van while all the soldiers looked at me and took a more prepared stance with their assault rifles. I nearly soiled myself. My mind was racing, what the hell could be in the car that the dog would alert to? Had these guys planted something in my rig to try to set me up for a hefty bribe? Turns out the dog smelled my half eaten sandwich, which I had dropped on the floor when I almost collided with the cow in the road a few hours back. They all had a good laugh about the situation as I wiped my sweat soaked brow while trying to keep from hyperventilating. I said in Spanish that the dog must have been hungry, they agreed. As they pulled the ham and cheese contraband out from under the seat they asked if I still wanted it. I felt that maybe it would be best to let the Rottweiler have it for lunch. The dog’s giant jaws made short work of it, nearly swallowing it whole, she looked content, I was just happy to get the hell out of there.

About 500 topes later I had made it to Puerto Escondido. I looked for a room and negotiated with a few of the local hotel owners who were overseeing their predominantly vacant properties. It’s important to realize that everything is negotiable in Mexico, especially in the off-season. They’re so eager to lure you to stay at their place that they pretty much do the haggling for you. I’ve learned to get the best deal the optimal negotiating tactic is to stand there with a neutral facial expression for about three to five seconds after they tell you the price. If you stay quiet and don’t show your cards they will keep coming down until you’re satisfied. Buyers markets are great, that is, as long as you’re the buyer. I found a sweet ocean front room with a fan, Wi-Fi, a clean shower and even a pool for $15 USD a night by standing their like a an expressionless mime, you should give it a try sometime it really works!