DIVING AND SO MANY FISH

Once a blue Moon, my jaded eyes will stumble upon a place that I dream about. I was looking for isolated fishing villages like the pre-Jack Nicklaus golf course era. We found one located between parallel matter-anti-matter worlds. No potable water, no power, no refrigeration except ice brought by the fish mongers trucks. This village was neolithic but hordes of fish and then more fish thrived nearby to ambush the bait fish that traversed this section of the Cortez Sea.

The hotter it gets the bigger the fish but I was satisfied with cabrilla in the 4-8 lbs class all day long and making red lip clams ceviche with clamato and Pacifico beer....outstanding. It was silly to catch these hunger monster. I quit after 2 hours and watched the sun go down.

SAN BLAS

We are finally at road's end for this trip and decided everything we wanted was here. San Blas was a tropical paradise home to 60's American Hipsters. The water was warm, tacos fresh and seafood everywhere. David Crosby would find the Tacos beyond description and the lobster and oyster as fresh as the day they were caught. Here we would just be warm, kayak, ride the KLR650's up to the Coffee hills and birds watch as the sun set.

TO EL SALTO SAN BLAS AND TO HEAVEN

AH! When you laugh and smile you know you're in Mexico. All the news from American news had frightened the tourists. And fear is a terrible thing to live with. For us who grew up in southern Arizona and knew better about the "bandito" myths it was a time throwback to the ealry 70's before Mexico was discovered by the post jet set class.
Sonoran mountains provide a great ride with our KLR 650 motorbikes, kayaks, bass boats and enough fly fishing gear and jigs to land Moby Dick. We crossed at Nogales without a hitch until the infamous 21km mark. Everything was in order until it came time to issue the 90 day car/motorbike permits. My son was traveling under my umbrella policy had his passport but no way to prove he was truly my son. And so we had to call back home get a hold of Nick friend a savy mechanical engineer female student who was watching the house for us. Daniele followed followed my wife's instruction on on the cell phone to open a huge safe to extract a birth certificate and fax it down to Mexico. They would take a faxed birth certificate to help us when they found we were going to Alamos, a city, Sonorans are very proud of.
We crashed in back of a PEMEX near Benjamin Hill. Nick found the Tecate deposito and immediately was back in his element charming the women of course. Once you pass Guaymas the road widens and American SUV's passed us with over burdened with Christmas gifts and kids visiting the grand parents on "Old Mexico." Hundred of cars passed us. We were rushing to Alamos to witness Posada at Hacienda de Santos. Alamos. where my father the founder and chief Architect of Green Valley, Arizona got most of his design ideas.

Carlos Acosta an outfitter for doves was our stopping place. He had almost all his America hunter cancel because of the fear that grip the Americas about Mexico. We had the place to ourselves at the to entrance to Copper Canyon at off road bikers paradise. We had the machine to do the deed and were chomping to get camp set up and hit the road.

FROM NORTH DAKOTA TO ARIZONA

The winter had come to the Prairies but my farmers in Arizona were still see 90's and the doves were piling in. This year was going to be a short trip to southern Arizona for pass shooting, quail and camping.. It was a stop over on our way to Mexico to hunt fish and beach again this time for a month.

The Valley we shoot was planted with winter wheat and the birds were thick. My young pup Tesds was not used to pass shooting and marking but quickly picked up the teaching moment of looking up, marking the fall and not going until sent. She was a super-dog and this time shooting down here turned her lights on completely. I had a dog that at less than a years hunting like a master at 7. Nothing like getting up to Canada and North Dakota and finishing in Arizona. She had learn to quarter on Huns and Pheasant and following the incoming from a hide. Of course the pointer, Fe, remained aloof but she knew she had a hunting pard