RV CARAVAN TO BAJA -- PART IV
Thursday, February 25
The two of us made an early tour of our camp to say final goodbyes. Gil was sitting in his driver's seat, about to fire up his CB and call us all to order. As we passed, he looked out and commented that he had had a funny dream in the night - that he was home, but that he had failed to escort the group safely through the border.
This turned out to be oddly prophetic. We lined up and counted off at the exit to the park, setting out in orderly fashion but becoming scattered due to heavy morning traffic and stubborn stoplights. We finally pushed through Ensenada and started the rather long and fast toll road run to Tijuana. The country looked amazingly green and nice, and quite litter free, with ocean cliff views and tidy agriculture. We were sad, though, to see so much "gringo" intrusion. Gated communities and subdivisions strung along the ocean. No more unsophisticated Mexico. The highway gained a lane and a center divider. The three toll booths, where we dispensed most of our last pesos, were now taken in stride. No biggie after the several military checkpoints and the agricultural spraying we'd survived. Our very last 50 pesos we gave to a man at a stoplight who insisted upon mopping our exterior mirrors. Traffic moved faster on the toll road so the caravan became very strung out. In fact we couldn't see any of our rigs and lost CB contact.
Without warning, there was a great mishap about forty minutes south of Tijuana. We came upon one of our rigs abruptly. It was stopped dead in the fast lane ahead. In front of it, straddling the center divider were the spun out trailer and van of Fran and Dave. We pulled up in back to provide a further shield and activated our flashers. Soon Pat and Chuck, the Tailgunners, were behind us, doing the same. We jumped out and saw to our dismay the condition of the turned over rig, but thanked God that Dave and Fran were standing outside their vehicle and apparently more shocked than seriously injured. It could have been so fatal.
Bob went forward to help, especially to give some counsel concerning Mexican auto insurance. I went behind to join Pat in flagging oncoming traffic. A highway workman handed us a red flag which helped signal cars to slow down. Fortunately, traffic was very light, and oncoming autos slowed. Meanwhile, Chuck ran ahead to a highway Call Box. Help arrived in the form of a carload of highway workmen who set out cones and then protective flares well behind the accident. Then quite soon, a highway patrol arrived to take command and insisted that the rest of us get out of the way and move along. We had no choice but to obey, but Bob and I succeeded in intercepting Chuck as he was hurrying back on foot from the emergency Call Box. We couldn't stop long or drive him back south because we were on a divided freeway going north.
Then we spotted Gil returning in the southbound lane, and we were able to communicate by CB that emergency vehicles were arriving on the scene. Gil told us to continue north to the border and catch up with Richard and Frieda who would now act as Wagonmasters to lead us through. Shortly thereafter an ambulance flashed south and then a tow truck; so we felt that good help was on the way. We moved north feeling very sickened for our friends and frustrated at not seeing a resolution to their considerable problems.
Gil had prepared us well. Even though he was no longer available to run interference, we remembered his good briefing of the day before. We followed regulation signs and then small obscure signs, almost hand painted, that pointed to a vital right hand turn instead of straight ahead highway that would have sucked us babes into the maw of downtown Tijuana. Lots of places to get off track, but we were suddenly slowed by lines of stopped vehicles and found ourselves at the actual Border Crossing. We hadn't succeeded in establishing CB contact with Richard and Frieda until that very last moment when somehow they were still back of us in line, having missed that right hand turn.
The Border was no problem. In our Good Sam caps, we were waved through without a glance. It was a little bit of a letdown, actually. We pulled into the familiar Lucky Market in Chula Vista and telephoned Gil's home number in order to reassure Addie. We were disappointed to get the answering machine but left our message, hoping she would receive it soon.
The real letdown then happened when we found ourselves entirely on our own, not a friendly Good Sam # in sight. I fiddled with the CB for awhile, until Bob could no longer stand the squeal, and then gave it up for good. In fact we converted to our prosaic cell phone which then sat mute on our dash.
Traffic was horrendous through L.A. The Ventura Freeway was even worse. We wondered how those commuters survived from day to day. By early evening we were settled in Ventura, the first of two campgrounds on our way home. It was pretty lonely. We kept searching the roads for rigs with numbers but there never was even one.
So we're hooked. We loved the trip and its caravan style. We appreciated Gil and his many, many extras - food, games, puzzles, planned activities and tours. What a consummate leader he was, always in command, never partial, always willing to help. We truly appreciated all of those qualities, together with Gil's personal charm and emanation of energy and enthusiasm.
As for the rest of the folks who became for a time our true family, we miss them acutely and are persuaded that another caravan could never quite duplicate our solidarity. We think so fondly of each one: Pat the beautiful Poet and Dashing Dann of the double "n". Spirited Rosemary and forbearing John. Don of the startling blue eyes and Ginny of the big browns. Marilyn, one of the great RV cooks of all time and Fred never missing a chance to hop out and explore. Solid Dave and Fran, the other pretty sister. Ginny so kind and generous with her traveling medicine chest and smiling Jack walking the dogs. Enthusiastic Karen and Bob, repeating the journey and sharing their joy. Michael with his shorts and jaunty hat and lovely tan Jan ready to run. Intrepid Richard and Frieda so warm and friendly. Noel, really Van, with his sweet Ella Marie (a name as complex as my own). Handsome Verl and comely Elaine with jet black Tiger running their show. Bill with his nice drawl and darling Nancy at his side. Big, capable Jerry and lovely Delores. Red Suspender Bob and pretty and impeccable Eileen, Albert, really Jack and my sister-in-spirit, Betty. "Tough but oh-so-gentle" Chuck with his contagious grin and hardworking, wonderful Pat. These were easy to love and hard to leave....
xxoo LJR