Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Ai Chihuahua!

Oggy, preparing to deport himself.
Fans of the movie Fandango will recognize this location...
This quote has stayed with me over the Costner says

GARDNER: "Anyway, you know me; gotta roll, gotta birddog, gotta cross females and fences... and if you'd all just come with me, you'd see."

There's a plaintive tone to his voice, a hopelessness and longing. A different actor might say it without the hidden pain. Costner got the tone right.

I picked a good week to change the ujoints on my driveshaft as I joined a crew on another canyon canoe trip, something I'd been hoping for three months. This trip was high class despite the low water and 111 degree heat. We explored a feeder canyon from Mexico and I considered staying there living off animals washed down in flash floods but decided to leave it as pristine as we found it.
note the washed out cave in the distance.

In light of my enjoyment of this pleasant activity I will explore the option of forming my own outfitter adventure service. I've offered adventure trips in the van but either my advertising is weak or no one believes the van leads to magical experiences. Maybe everyone wants prepackaged video games where they don't get their feet wet or hands dirty. So these fences I will cross alone.
hiding from the sun under a hanging cliff

Of course I did all the red tape official crap at the border and then drove onward and did not encounter any of the obstacles that have stopped me in the past, no border checkpoint, no police with guns, no narcotrafficos. Nothing, spending a lot of money to follow the rules to futility.
speaking of futility, my old sandal broke on the trip and an archaeologist had to fix it with parachute cord.

all hat and no cattle

Had I driven North and not South I'm afraid I would only be following my footsteps. Even here in Chihuahua I'm seeing familiar streets and churches and hooker hotels. But a little further south, where the accent is rapid fire and I stand with bell bottom bemusement at the foot of an unclimbed mountain, Oggy will be in uncharted territory and that's only the conceit of my folly. I've been dodging questions about my plans with the tired excuse that I'm following Kerouac's youthful path to a mythical city where writers are treated like royalty and wine turns disdain into prose so lofty and magical that the traffic jam of words in my head finally is relieved by a critical bypass tunnel through my imagination. I've tried this before with desperation and futility, wandering the zocolos and parks, riding my moped through my extended bell bottom adolescence. For my purposes I don't think of a destination which inspires me, but one that acts as an autistic squeeze box from which my tortured psyche can't escape...and it must reflect and vent naturally. I'm the only one standing in my way so the psychological warfare I delight in would make the Hamas propaganda machine seem weak like a fresh felafel.
It is a treasure location that I can determine.

P.S. my American phone is off line now. all hate mail and death threats may be directed to my exclusive hotline. My gay porn web cam has also been disabled until I get reestablished. Thanks for all your support!
Have a nice life, fellow Groovers.

The canyon canoe trip won't be represented by a crappy video. But it's all I have.

Creative Commons License
Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.