This is a collection of photographs I made after we left Punta Pérula and the beach.
Most are shot from the driving seat with my Lumix GX85 camera with a short telephoto lens set around 35 mm. That keeps the windshield frame out of the picture but battling glare and reflections means waiting for good light angles or shade falling across the road. I throw out a great many failures as my concentration is on the road not the camera. I hope they give a taste of life on the road.
We were traveling slowly on a torn up section of road here. I got the camera in time to photograph the random horse in the road moment.
Our gear was packed and Rusty knew we were leaving. He puts up with the road though he enjoys the destinations.
A repeat from a previous post of our approximate route from Punta Pérula to Santa Elena which is marked by the blue dot. We actually followed the south shore of Lake Chapala a wild rough road not usually recommended for foreigners but we were curious to see the wilderness.
Teocuitatlán de Corona, a lonely village filled for some reason with Guardia Nacional. They waved cheerfully as we stumbled past following Google’s blue line. No idea why they were there in force.
The rest of the village was sun beaten and dusty with hardly anyone around.
Some of the streets Google’s mapping sent us on were more like rutted alleys. The front wheel drive Promaster turns on a dime and scrambled up everything.
The highway across the fried lake beds south of Guadalajara are subject to dust storms apparently. I had to look it up but that is what a tolvanera is. They want you to turn on your headlights if caught in a dust storm.
Rusty wanders the truck stops. He likes human habitations much more than the wilderness I enjoy.
If you think Mexico is all donkey trails think again. They know how to engineer highways in difficult terrain.
Entering the city of Colima on a six lane highway:
A random elaborate sidewalk next to where we slept at a dusty truck stop outside the city of Tecoman.
Off to work as I walk my dog:
Dusk the night before. I tend to ignore the trash scattered underfoot and look aloft in truck stops. I’m getting used to Mexico’s contradictions I suppose.
Oil changes do not interest Rusty. This one in Manzanillo at Garza’s Oil and Tire shop. Excellent work while my dog slept.
