From Mountains to Mexico: The Yoda Rides Again

Weed, California~Puerto Peñasco, Mexico
2025

We were disappointed to postpone our next trip to Japan, but out of that change came some incredible news, answered prayers and unforgettable moments….. ones we wouldn’t trade for anything. So, with some unexpected time on our hands, we decided to make the most of it. We are taking the Yoda into Mexico….again!

In the spring of 2023, we did a two-month overlanding trip down to Cabo. It was an amazing trip full of firsts. This time, we’re heading east to explore places we’ve never been, soak up the sun, experience a culture we love, and spend the next six weeks calling some place new, home.

When we have the Yoda, we have more freedom than usual…..freedom to roam, to play, to discover. She lets us go places we wouldn’t otherwise see. So let me introduce you to her.

Meet the Yoda

Younger Yoda

Jim and I bought the Yoda the year our oldest son graduated. On July 4, 2010, we purchased two 2006 Toyota Tacoma's: a black V6 and a blue 4 cylinder. The blue would’ve been the better choice for our son, but at the time he couldn’t drive a stick, so the black one became his. Hindsight? It worked out perfectly.

Fast forward sixteen years, and both trucks are still with us. Our son still drives his. Easily one of the best investments we ever made.

Jim has poured love and labor into the Yoda; he's fixed or replaced nearly everything himself. She only goes to a shop if he’s already diagnosed the issue and just doesn’t have the right tools. He knows her inside and out. And yes, she’s absolutely a girl!

On road trips, it's clear who Jim prioritizes. But truth be told, her and I’ve grown pretty close too. She’s never let me down, especially on a solo drive last summer from California to El Paso. We bonded over some long heart to hearts.

She’s gotten us out of sketchy spots, sheltered us, saved us money and embraced every adventure. Yoda is a beast! She loves the ride as much as we do. And yeah, we both know she’s “just a truck”... but we never say that out loud when she’s around.

Over the past five years our goal has been to be able to pull into a spot and crawl into bed, without having to unload tubs.

One of our first trips in 2020

First trip to Mexico in 2023

So, for this trip, we made some upgrades and seriously downsized again! Jim built an elevated frame that goes over the wheel wells and it even has a headboard. This gained us width and opened up usable storage underneath. And, we now roll with three tubs instead of one large tub with everything in it.

Tub One: Tools, an emergency go-bag, extra butane, and Yoda maintenance gear.

Tub Two: Bathroom essentials—collapsible sink, toiletries, solar shower, toilet seat, wipes, and TP.

Tub Three: Kitchen gear—downsized, repurposed, and more compact.

Jim also pared down his fishing gear. I upgraded to a lighter, smaller camp chair and Jim put the inverter in a spot that allows easy access. We replaced a tent and a pop-up bathroom with an SUV tent that attaches to the Yoda. Well, "Jimmy rigged" to the Yoda. It is light weight and folds into a duffel and doubles as a backrest when we sit on the tailgate. It even works as a stand-alone tent. We kept three tarps because they always come in handy.

The tent didn't go up on this trip.

Our tubs slide under the bed frame, with the back tub attached to a rope that is used as a pull system and almost everything else can fit along the sides in the order in which they are used and our leveling wood fits perfectly in front.

The Yoda today.

Two things slide under the foot of the bed between the mattress and frame: our table and Jim’s very specific chair. Heavy and awkward, but it’s the only one that supports his back. Non-negotiable. And while traveling the tent stays on the top of the bed.

Inside the cab: the cooler, food tub, 5-gallon water jug, with USB spigot (which is always filled), our travel bags (all this remains in the cab) and a bucket toilet (it works, don’t ask). Jim added more room by building a box around the battery so we can put the water on top.

It’s not perfect, but we’re closer to our ideal setup: less unpacking, everything has a spot and the driver’s seat is always open.

MEXICO or BUST!!!!

Our plan was simple: choose each day’s destination as we go, leaving plenty of room for spontaneity and unexpected detours. The only date and place set in stone was the day we needed to cross the border at Mexicali East II. We completed our FMMs online, so other than that, our schedule was wide open just the way we both like it.

That morning after the hard goodbyes, traveling along Highway 89, I was once again struck by the beauty of what will always be home to me. I feel incredibly blessed to have grown up in this place, surrounded by picture perfect landscapes that shaped my life and continue to ground me. It’s humbling, really. And just like that, we said goodbye to the mountains (Mt. Shasta) and began our descent into the desert, where Yoda, Jim, and I would spend the next six days slowly making our way toward Mexico.

Day 1: Walker Lake, Nevada
Sportsman's Beach Campground
Cost- FREE

Along the way we took breaks, made gas stops, and enjoyed a homemade lunch on the tailgate under the sun in Bordertown, Nevada. Somewhere outside Reno, we stopped chasing the sun and began driving into storm clouds. Not knowing what to expect, we pressed on and eventually arrived at our destination at 1630.

As we first pulled around the corner and saw the lake, the beauty of the water made it seem like we were already in Mexico.

Walker Lake Campground is in the city of Walker Lake, located in west-central Nevada. The Campground offers tiered levels of camping, starting with the upper sites closest to Highway 95. We zigzagged down the loop road to find a site closer to the lake.

The views of the lake and surrounding desert mountains were pretty, and despite the nearby highway, you could barely hear any traffic. The campground was empty, making it feel very spacious and secluded. Only four other campers pulled in later that evening.

The amenities were minimal: picnic tables covered in large spider webs (which Jim had the pleasure of meeting the owner of the next morning) and vault toilets that were locked. It was probably for the best, judging by the massive amounts of garbage, not sure they would be maintained to a healthy hygiene standard. I avoid pitted toilets anyways.

The campground is on BLM land and costs $6.00 per overnight vehicle, but there were no fee envelopes, and the deposit box was missing its lock… so, free.

Still, we wrote a check and left it in our window in case someone came by to collect. When we camp in the States, we always carry checks. It saves us from scrambling for exact change when the price jumps unexpectedly or from dropping $10 in mostly pennies, nickels, and dimes, praying the envelope doesn’t split open. And if they can’t make change, that’s money lost. Checks just work better for us.

We picked our spot and after a long day of travel didn’t bother organizing things as planned, we just shoved everything into the cab of the truck. Unloading and setting up took five minutes and since this was just a one-night stay, we skipped the tent.

We made sandwiches for dinner and watched the sun dip behind the mountains. As the temps started to cool down we layered up and crawled into the back of the truck bed, cozy and ready to stargaze beneath the vast, clear night sky.

We were excited to spend our first night in the newly remodeled Yoda. With a fresh coat of paint, a new headboard, and upgraded lighting, it felt perfect. We both slept soundly.

The cool breeze had Jim bundled up, and by mid-morning, I was shutting the truck to keep warm. Little did we know what temperatures awaited us in the days ahead.

When we built the platform bed, we sacrificed some length but gained width by extending it over the wheel wells. It gave us enough space to comfortably both lie flat if we wanted. Jim’s feet are a little cramped when he stretches out, but luckily, I’m a side sleeper, so with a little angling, we both have plenty of room.

The first morning packing up was a bit of trial and error as we tried to iron out our new system of shared responsibilities, which only included a few spirited discussions and the occasional irritable silence.....the system? Jim is in charge of packing his side and deciding where things "live" over there. I do the same on mine. Then, we give each other the grand tour of our respective storage solutions so we both know where to find things or at least where they are supposed to go.

Jim handles unpacking the truck bed and camp set up, while I tackle the cab and fluff our pillows and we’re each responsible for our own bags. By the end of this trip and only after a few bumps, bruised egos, and constructive feedback sessions along the way; were we a well-oiled machine!

We made breakfast shakes and packed up, heading toward our next destination.

Day 2: Death Valley, California
Desert Campsite The Pads
Cost: FREE

The Pads is a desert campsite near Death Valley National Park in California. We were on the road by 0930.

The Pads is a ghost RV park with leftover concrete pads scattered across the desert. It was a warm desert drive and when we pulled into The Pads around 1430 Jim was surprised to find it completely empty. I was not! Who in their right mind would camp here, it’s 112° and there are no trees.

We had our pick of the place. As we slowly drove through, I pointed out a few pads that looked promising. Jim, of course suggested we try to find something further back, maybe something we could use for shade, which meant detouring off the main road and exploring every possible corner, treating the Yoda like she's a Jeep.

And for the next 45 minutes in the hot sun, no AC we put her in 4 wheel drive and climbed up ridges and dipped into uneven ground, leaving me tilted sideways in my seat. We ventured out to a sketchier part of the road and climbed all the way to the top of the ridge, only to circle back and choose the last pad I had suggested from the start.

Ironically spray-painted across the pad was “Love is all that matters.” How coincidental.

The heat was intense, so we set both chairs up on the shaded side of the Yoda and spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and trying to stay cool. There was no cell service, but we didn’t mind. Despite being close to Highway 190, it was very quiet, with few passing cars. By mid day we were so hot we had no clothes on and started playing a game that we made up with the passing cars that couldn't see us.

I'd only been camping this hot one other time. In 2021 we spent three days camping in 119° weather, with no shade at Wedge Overlook, (Little Grand Canyon) in Utah. That adventure taught us how important shade is and a few tricks on how to stay cool and conserve water.

Wedge Overlook 2021

So we started draining the melted ice from the cooler into a jug to pour on us throughout the day and even into the evening. It didn't really cool off and as it got closer to dinner time, we set out a can of chili to heat up in the sun, it was just too hot to cook anything ourselves. Surprisingly, the chili hit the spot.

The sunset was beautiful and the evening calm. As the temperature settled into the mid-90s, we laid back to watch the night sky, enjoying the stillness and watching shooting stars streak across the wide clear desert skies sort of made the unbearably hot day worth it.

Later, we climbed into bed, forgetting to put the screen down and leaving the light on as we got in, rookie mistake! Within minutes, we were swatting at tiny bugs that had snuck inside. It took a good half hour to get them all, and by the end, we had sticky hands from bug juice and remnants smeared across my newly painted ceiling.

Despite that, we slept well. It stayed warm through the night, though Jim claimed to be chilly. I gave him my favorite blanket, it’s magically cozy and warm, I just can't explain and he warmed right up. I repositioned myself to the foot of the bed near the opening of the window finally catching a bit of a breeze. It wasn’t exactly cool, but it helped.

The next morning, the heat in the cab, despite all the windows being open, was like a furnace. My first thought, I need air, and when I stuck my head out through the screen, I saw Jim shifting his chair around, chasing a shrinking patch of shade beside the Yoda. It was already in the low 90s, and with temps climbing and no relief in sight, we decided to pack up and hit the road.

As soon as we regained cell service, our mission was clear: find a camp spot with some shade and something to eat. We were both starving.

We rolled into Shoshone, a population of 22, with just three visible establishments: a cafe, a gas station, and a post office and we managed to visit them all.

We paid an outrageous price for gas, then wandered over to the cafe, only to find it wasn’t open for another hour. Breakfast would have to wait, but Jim couldn’t! And he dropped a package at the post office, which also boasted the only restroom in town.

With empty stomachs, we drove back into the rising heat of the desert with no destination or cell service.

Once we finally got service, we decided our next stop would be Baker, home to Denny’s and the world’s largest thermometer. At 0950 the thermometer was already reading 94°F.

We clogged our arteries with an overpriced breakfast, but the sweet relief of air conditioning, a decent cup of coffee, along with the luxury of not sweating through our clothes made it worth it. While we cooled off, we figured out our next destination. We settled on cutting through Joshua Tree National Park and heading toward BLM land near Chiriaco Summit.

Along the way, we made a few quick stops checking things out, quick being the key word because, well, it was hot AF.

Union Pacific Depot

We’ve definitely spent more time in National Forests than National Parks. Mainly because there’s a major price difference. Plus, we prefer the peace and isolation of dispersed camping. We usually find amazing spots using a mix of iOverlander, Google Maps, BLM and National Forest Service maps.

Although we've stayed all around Joshua Tree, we have never been inside the park. To date, I believe, we’ve only stayed in two National Parks.

The first was Lone Rock, on the border of Utah and Arizona and the first day it was beautiful, wall to wall campers. The next morning we woke to the Yoda being sandblasted. Needless to say only us and one other camper braved it out.

For two days we stayed in the back of the Yoda on a half-deflated mattress, getting pelted by sand from all directions …..oh, and the bathrooms were 100 yards away.

Lone Rock 2020

The second Park stay was immediately after the first Park stay and mainly to get sand out of EVERYTHING! And take hot showers. Despite that rough intro to National Park camping, the annual $80 pass does offer discounts at some pretty amazing campgrounds so depending on the year for us it can be worth it.

And after visiting Rocky Mountain National Park last month with my sister-in-law, who's been to all 63 National Parks, yes she is a badass! Listening to her stories and seeing pictures, we plan to start exploring more.

But this time, the main reason we were heading through Joshua Tree was purely logistical, it saved us substantial driving time and brought us out close to the BLM land on the other side. And if by chance there was something open in the park that had shade we weren't opposed.

We pulled up to the park entrance, it was $30 just to drive through or $80 for the annual pass. We opted for the pass, since we’ll be bringing the Yoda home at the end of September and plan to hit some parks.

The ranger handed us our pass, a park map and warned us to watch for bees. Excuse me, What? Apparently they are aggressive and will even go after your sweat. Oh, and to turn off the A/C five minutes before reaching your campsite. Ok... so no A/C and no sweating, or risk attracting them, this should be fun!

We started driving through, only to find the first two campgrounds closed for the season. Most of the "exhibits" were just pull-outs to view... desert. There were a few hiking trailheads, but we only saw one adventurous couple out there.

What I didn’t realize about this route was how steep it was. Normally not a big deal, but the Yoda is old, and she doesn’t love the heat, so the A/C has to be turned off on long steep inclines.

Jim would rather keep her engine happy than risk a breakdown, even if it means his menopausal wife, who is also on the verge of breakdown, is roasting in the passenger seat. And of course, the sun was fully on my side of the truck. Let me tell you ladies this takes “hot flash” to a whole new level!

I was afraid to crack the window for air, for two reasons: first was the most logical...the little bit of cool air would escape and be replaced with hot air. And two, I was drenched in sweat and afraid I would attract the bees and Jim supposedly is allergic to them. Yes, I say supposedly because since we've been together he has never been stung or had to use the EpiPen, we USED to carry! And today is not the day to find out if this is true or not!

There were times heading up the inclines, that I was holding the A/C dial hostage and giving Jim the "it’s me or the Yoda" look. He’d somehow convince me to hold out until we reached the top. This happened again and again over a very long, very hot hour and a half of... NOTHING.

At one point I looked around and said, “There aren’t even Joshua Trees.” Jim said yeah I think they are on the other side of the park.

Day 3: Chiriaco Summit, California
BLM Camping Outside of Chiriaco Summit
Cost: FREE

We arrived at camp on BLM land just off I-10 around 1630 and started scouting for a spot. We passed a big rock and a lone ocotillo that offered a tiny bit of shade. I suggested we stop, but Jim took one look and said, “You can still see the freeway,” which of course meant: keep going. So up we went, bouncing the Yoda along rocky riverbeds and washouts, chasing any kind of shade and trying to get as far from the junction as possible. Nothing!

Eventually, we settled on a tucked-away spot and used the truck to block the sun, it was too hot to bother with our normal routine and we just got out our chairs. Our usual routine is to pull into a spot, sit on the tailgate, have a beer, and sit for a bit. It gives us time to observe things such as wind, bugs, wildlife…the vibe. Not this time. The small parts of the chair that the sun hit would get too hot and scorch you. So Jim rigged some shade to sit under and we officially called it camp. Well for about an hour.

Not only was the heat kicking our ass, but the wind picked up, and the tarp kept snapping me every time I leaned back to keep my head shaded. I finally moved to the side of the truck to escape the flapping. We stuck it out until nearly dinner, but then Jim looked at the forecast and said, “The wind’s only going to get worse.”

And I hate wind.

So, we packed everything back up and retreated to the original ocotillo spot, yes, the one near the freeway with a little shade and a lot of Jake brake noise and light pollution. But we made it work. We walked around, took in the view, and right after the sun dipped below the horizon, I took the most glorious shower to rinse off the day.

For anyone who thinks a proper shower while dispersed camping is impossible, I’m here to tell you it’s absolutely doable.

We travel with a small, packable solar shower. It’s lightweight and easy to pack and holds a gallon. On some days, we fill it first thing in the morning and let it warm in the sun all day. Other times, we fill it with cool water and use it throughout the day to rinse off and stay refreshed. Whether we shower before or after sunset usually depends on the temperature and the bug situation.

Today, it was still 94° after sunset, so we opted for a lukewarm shower to rinse off the day’s grime and cool down before bed, which always feels like pure heaven.

Jim usually takes the first shower, partly to test the mosquito situation (they love him), and partly because he's quick which leaves more water for me. That’s love right there.

For his turn, I climb up on the tailgate and hold the shower bag over his head while he stands on our car mat. When it’s my turn, we hang the bag from the Yoda, and I get my own little oasis with an open-sky view. Honestly, there's nothing quite like a sunset shower in the wild with a warm breeze and no walls. Just one more reason we love camping off the grid.

Once again, we went to bed with temps still in the low 90s, and once again I slept with my head wedged out the back of the screen, hoping I wouldn’t wake up with bug bites… or worse, an animal encounter. I had no idea how I was going to spend the day in this heat with the tiny slivers of shade the ocotillo provided.

The next morning, heat and hunger were once again in the driver’s seat. Neither of us had any interest in firing up the stove, so we hit the road, this time in search of shade and something to eat.

Our sights were set somewhere along the Salton Sea State Park, just 40 minutes away (and only an hour and a half from the border). Surely there’d be some shade, right? The reviews complain about the smell, but beggars can’t be choosers and besides, there was an incredible birria joint on the way.

Taco Shop 760 definitely did not disappoint. They ranked right up there with the state of Jalisco for the best birria I've had.

Day 4: Mecca, California
Salton Sea State Recreation Area (Corvina Beach)
Cost: $10.00

We turned off at the first camp area on the east side of the Salton Sea, which supposedly had more sites, Salton Sea State Park. There was a little shade but it backed right up to the railroad tracks. That might’ve worked, but the second we stepped out of the truck we were swarmed by flies. No way we were paying $30 to camp next to train tracks, under partial shade, while pestered with flies…yes princess Alisa.

Next stop: Mecca State Park. We didn’t even pull in. It was smack on the highway and roasting in direct sunlight zero shade. So we went on to Corvina Beach.

Now this has potential. Completely empty it was before noon, and while all the campsites were fully exposed to the sun, there were two day-use picnic areas near the showers that had covered metal roofs. We pulled into the closest one and claimed our little patch of scorched earth. The roof gave us some shade, and it was clean and quiet.

In front of us: the Salton Sea. Behind us: a road. Behind that: train tracks. We could see the occasional car go by but couldn’t hear them and the trains went by every couple hours. But that noise is comforting and brings back special childhood memories.

Jim scoped out the showers and returned in nothing but his undies, soaking wet and smiling. I grabbed a sarong and followed his lead. And that’s basically how we spent the day bathing every 30 minutes, drinking cold water, sipping warm beer, and pretending it wasn’t 114°.

A Park Ranger rolled in and said we were fine to stay parked in the road like we were and reminded us to stay safe. It was the kind of day where safe meant jumping in the shower, which, by the way, was warm from the sun. The shower room also had a bit of a stink to it, but it was still a reprieve, because you knew the warm wind outside would cool you down the second you stepped out. The sun was so hot it made your eyelids heavy, your body slippery and gritty.

At first, there were just a few flies, but by midday, they’d become a full-on nuisance. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for our time spent in McNeal, Arizona on the farm, I don’t think I would’ve made it through the day with those fuckers.

We had to keep the truck cab sealed tight because there were a thousand flies trying to get inside, which meant the cab was going to get hot, so we took the cooler out and put it in the shade.

As for the smell, well, I’ve got Dexter, New Mexico to thank for building up my tolerance. We camped there one night, because we couldn’t find anywhere else, it was late and we were exhausted. It was absolutely the worst smell, it stunk so bad we wore our COVID masks the whole time. And we had to pay to camp there!

We did our best throughout the day to stay hydrated. We kept our bottles filled with cool water until the cooler couldn’t keep up anymore. Eventually, the water was as warm as the beer.

Dinner was just meat and cheese. It was too hot to eat anything else, without the sun cover, we wouldn’t have lasted. As the sun dropped, we ended up using the Yoda for shade.

There were just a few visitors all day, but mainly to use the bathroom and no one came down our way. I feel when camping most people stereotype the Yoda as dangerous and keep away.

We were both just sitting there when a car pulled in and started creeping our way. As they drove past we noticed it was a family. They drove around us and parked. All of them got out and walked toward the water. We figured they were there to catch the sunset, though I couldn’t understand how they could stand being that close to water with the smell.

Shortly after sunset, mom and daughter drove the car back while dad and son walked. Hmmm. Mom parked next to the showers. Dad and son passed by, dad was barefoot, carrying his shoes and soaking wet. Now, it's definitely not recommended to swim here, not sure how anyone could, with the smell, but dad looked like he had taken a full plunge.

The kids, teenagers, got in the backseat, and mom and dad headed into the shower. They were in there for a good 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the kids kept opening and slamming the car doors. At first, I thought they were trying to get their parents’ attention, but nope, they were just swatting all the flies out of the car.

Jim and I started giggling, wondering what was taking so long. And then it hit...that smell. The wind had shifted, and it was coming straight from the showers. I caught it first and practically gagged, running to the other side of the Yoda. It was awful.

We both swear the flies doubled in number after that, and when dad walked out the smell came with him. About ten minutes after they left, the stink finally started to lift but the flies? They swarmed the door to the shower, right where the guy had left his shoes. Ewww.

Flies kept us from a sunset picture!

Best we could do!

At around 2100, the temperature dropped a little, the flies vanished and the air finally felt breathable. We pulled the truck around to face the sea and opened it up to cool down, enjoying the stillness and stars.

The name Salton Sea finally made sense; it really did sound like a sea at night. Around midnight, we climbed into bed, no clothes, no blankets, no flies everything wide open trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. Which was impossible.

By 0200, I had assumed the menopause position at the foot of the bed and reached for my fan, but all it did was blow hot air. I tossed and turned until about 0600 when Jim quietly scooted out of bed… and then I felt it: he shut the screen. WTF? Two minutes later, I was swatting at buzzing flies.

Exhausted, I wrapped myself in my magically warm blanket, covered my head, and roasted for another hour and a half. But eventually, the flies breached my impenetrable fortress, and by that point I was drenched in sweat. I gave up and threw open the screen.

Looking over, I saw our white table folded next to the truck. It looked filthy. I grabbed my glasses—nope, not dirt. Flies. Covered. In. Flies. That's when Jim wandered over, still swatting, and asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

Normally I need at least 20 minutes in the morning to wake up, go potty, and collect myself, but the urgency on Jim’s face, combined with the heat, the flies, and the smell? YES. YES I AM!!

Remember how we had a system and everything had a home? Yay, well that shit went right out the window. We threw everything in the back of the truck. Slammed it shut. Battled the swarm of flies diving into the cab. Jim started the truck and blasted the AC, hoping it would drive them out, but it only blew them into our faces. Flies stuck between eyes and glasses, hovering at the edges of our ears and noses. It was maddening.

I kept my mouth shut until I started gagging from the smell. We barely gave the Yoda time to warm up before we were barreling down the road, AC blasting, windows open, both of us sweating and swatting like lunatics.

Day 5: Calexico, California
Best Western John Jay
Cost: $114.00

We made it to Calexico and needed to regroup and eat breakfast. We sat in the KFC parking lot, a first for breakfast, for ten minutes, waiting for it to open. Jim stood outside while I tried to make sense of the chaos inside the Yoda. Even after all that, we both swore we could still feel the flies and smell the stink.

After breakfast we headed straight to the hotel, hoping for an early check-in. Total long shot, it was barely past regular checkout. But they said we could get in at 1300 without an early check-in fee (regular check-in was at 1500). So we plopped down in the lobby to weigh our options. Both of us wiped out, Jim still absentmindedly swatting at imaginary flies and we came to the conclusion it wasn't worth the cost and decided to use this time to get last-minute things done, gas up and ice down.

We managed to get it all done, but still had an hour to kill in 114° heat. The only shade we could find? A Walmart parking lot. So yes, we pulled in, set up shop, and used the time to reorganize and clean up the Yoda.

At 1301, we checked in and finally had a cool, comfortable space to recover. As far as Best Westerns go, this one was like the Four Seasons. Actually, if I’m being honest, I just know it was clean, fly-free, and I could control the temperature. That was all I needed.

And for the first time ever, Jim looked at me and asked, “Can you turn down the AC?”

Last time we crossed the border we used this same border crossing, also on a Monday around 0930, and it went smoothly. Fingers crossed. But for now the only thing we were both concerned with was a shower and a peaceful night's sleep.

Day 6: Mexico Border Crossing
Destination: Puerto Peñasco

We got up early and took full advantage of the free breakfast, which was fresh and well stocked. We left at 0815 to hit the Calexico Post Office, which opened at 0830. Jim parked while I ran in, leaving my phone in the truck. My excitement about getting an early start evaporated the moment I saw the line.

I thought maybe it’ll go quick. Nope! I was 15th in line, there were only two clerks, and the first two customers took 10 minutes each. I did the math. Shit! Without my phone, I couldn’t update Jim or even check the time and I couldn’t leave (why??? Story for a later time). Thankfully, a third clerk appeared, and a few people in front of me were as prepared as I was, so things moved faster.

Jim gave me the look as I got back in the truck and we headed toward Mexicali East, about 20 minutes away. We could’ve taken Mexicali West, only three minutes, but east is said to be faster and easier, plus we are familiar with this crossing and it’s closer to our cutoff point once we get into Mexico.

We arrived at the border at 0923. A man holding an AR and a woman with a long mirror waved us into a parking spot. They asked for our passports and registration, then had us step out so Jim could open the back.

While the male officer searched the cab and asked Jim questions, the female officer looked through the truck bed and a few of my backpack pockets. They asked about weapons, drugs, and alcohol. Last time we learned we are only allowed 12 beers per person. We had the exact amount this time.

By 0935, we were on our way to the FMM office. The FMM (Forma Migratoria Múltiple) is an entry card issued by Mexican immigration that allows us to enter and stay legally. We spent another 20 minutes there because we had completed ours online but didn’t print the correct page. The officers helped us sort it out, stamped our passports, and gave us our paperwork.

It took me longer in the post office than it did for us to cross the border. Crossing into Mexico may sound intimidating, but both times we've been treated with respect and kindness. I don't feel afraid at all. All though, to be fair, Jim had us cross from Bulgaria into Turkiye at 0200, so then there is that.

Once across, we had a four and a half hour drive to Puerto Peñasco. We took MX 5, which we’ve driven before and the biggest thing to remember is to follow the speed limits in town and stop at alto signs, even if they’re hidden, camouflage, missing, or blacked out. To be safe, we stop at every street intersection.

We cut off onto MX 4, a route we’d never taken, and eventually reached the long, empty desert, YES DESERT stretch of MX 40. No service. No stops. Be full on fuel before you hit it.

Finally, we connected to MX 3, following the coast into Puerto Peñasco. The drive went smoothly, there were no checkpoints, only one inspection station. Some stretches were narrow and pocked with potholes, but honestly, we’ve driven worse in the States.

Thank you to the Yoda and Jim for this little adventure and for getting us here safely.

It’s not always pretty, rarely comfortable, and often tests the limits of our patience, which has been well established that Jim has way more than I. But it is an adventure and we show up for each other. Always! Jim is usually the calm to my storm, and when the roles reverse, I’ve got his back too. This is just how we do life together.

To the end of the world......

and all the craziness in between...

I love you!

And as usual, experiences like this remind us that the best moments often come from the tough days. That showers can be holy. That flies can drive you mad. And that love sometimes looks like letting your partner take the first shower.