Lemonade From Lemons

To be stuck in the sand is no easy thing, but one has to wonder, why did they drive their family car into what is obviously not suitable ground?

They had the tools to get themselves out eventually and the kids thought it was great fun but in Mexico there is always an alternative. In this case the local tow company advertises among the sand dunes. You need a grua? Not Ghostbusters for sure. Try these guys: 

Layne and I were ambling along walking Rusty watching the gyrations of the Mexicans with an idea to circle back and offer help when, without warning we both found ourselves flat on our backs. Holy shit! We forgot the mud. It was slippery and we struggled to get a grip between bursts of uncontrollable laughter. Layne went so far as to take my picture as I set off to find a dry way out. 

How to get this sticky chocolate from off was the big issue. How much water would it take? We’d just bought a dollars worth of delivered water to off our tank and now we were going to have to pour it on ourselves? Grrr.

So we trudged back to GANNET2 pondering our various thoughts. Layne was figuring how to clean our clothes while I was feeling the mud drying like armor on my leg.

Eventually the obvious answer to our dilemma presented itself as we approached the van. Rusty ran in ahead but we went up the dune and down to the tide line. Oh well I thought to myself, wishing I were approaching Florida’s warm waters, how bad can it be? 

Oddly enough not bad at all. We industriously scraped  the thick goo from our rubber footwear and I washed my legs and arms in Pacific Ocean water that was actually quite bearable. When I used to live in California among the coastal fogs under gray sunless skies I craved the quieter warmer waters around Florida. When we sailed from San Francisco to Panama I told my wife stories of the joy of Caribbean warmth.

So to be honest I was not looking forward to dunking myself at sunset into the Sea of Cortez. But a man has to do what a man has to do and from time to time I have to do the same so there I was: splashing water on myself in an effort to rid myself of impurities.

It worked. Dinner was a brief affair thrown together on a salad while I hung the muddy vestments of our impromptu ceremony on a thorn bush to dry. Rusty had whimpered when we got back to the van as though wondering what grid us up but like all good dogs ( and all dogs are good) he asked no questions.

It was obvious we had to rinse the clothes in saltwater to prepare for laundry day later in the week so I volunteered to go back to waters edge and rinse them in as many buckets of salt water as necessary. I wore the muddy shorts and left everything else behind including my shoes. It was the work of a few minutes to render buckets of clear salt water muddy as I rinsed the clothes one at a time.

Sod this I said to myself as I submerged the clothes one last time in a bucket full of brine. I put my glasses in the sand next to the bucket and walked like Joan of Arc into self immolation.

It would be stupid of me to claim the waters were bath tub warm, my favorite temperature, but I found myself tingling not unpleasantly in the cold crisp water. The sand underfoot was ridged and solid so I stopped doing the stingray shuffle and devoted myself to walking out slowly and chilling my shoulders with hands full of seawater. Immersion followed. 

Ron from the silver van down the beach had come upon as as we staggered home covered in goo and he stopped by yesterday morning to see how we were doing. He’s from Iowa and is in construction and takes glorious trips all over the place. I hope we meet him down the coast. Yesterday I met him as I swam and he drifted by on a paddle board.
He said scientists have discovered thermogenesis is good for one’s health. Oh good I said. What’s that? It turns out submitting to cold temperatures can improve blood flow and I don’t know what as long as you don’t kill yourself. No chance of that on a 75 degree lunchtime in Sonora. We chatted for a while as I trod  water then he paddled off. I tingled all the way back to the bucket and as I trudged back to GANNET2 full of thermogenesis.
We had homemade asparagus soup last night thanks to Walmart and our Instapot as Layne came to grips with cooking outdoors. I, thanks to one small muddy slip, am going to give cold water swimming another go. What surprising things we learn on the road. I’d never have expected to enjoy that.