Torta Heaven

At times like this I wonder what the hell I'm doing.

The best torta bread is here in Chihuahua, toasted to perfection. And these churros were a little pricey but that's because they defied all logic by being fried inside an air conditioned kitchen and then kept warm in an oven. Makes no sense when it's almost 100 degrees outside the door five feet away. I prefer street churros but no one wants to fry dough when it is this hot. I feel like when I buy anything not drug related then I'm doing good.

At times like these I know exactly what I'm doing.

My new favorite city.

Ai Chihuahua!

Oggy, preparing to deport himself.

Fans of the movie Fandango will recognize this location...

This quote has stayed with me over the years...as 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 gofuckyourself@gmail.com 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.

Wrenching on Van: Part 411

Take it from Oggy, don't change the Ujoints unless they sound like banshees from Hell.

The opportunities to get dirty under the van never end. Someone pointed out that the drive shaft was misaligned by one tooth. that must've happened when I rebuilt the transmission. So I took it apart to fix that and though the u-joints were not bad nor sounding bad but I had new ones and decided to replace them as part of preventative maintenance. In hindsight, this was crazy because it's an easy job that is never easy and furthermore, bad u-joints are easier to replace than good ones, and one of my mottos has been to not touch things that aren't broken. The bearing caps were solidly in place and took aggressive beating to dislodge them. That beating in turn tweaked the iron yoke so the new ones were not seating perfectly. Basically, the old ones were better left alone. And it's a job that requires a big big vise or a ball joint/ujoint tool to remove them. Otherwise, it's a frustration apocalypse. I've developed a theory that as soon as I either go to the dentist, have an argument with a girlfriend, or work on my van then any magic that was in that location is removed forever. It becomes merely another place on earth where plastic dentic things clog the storm drains.

Was going to put a spacer on the carb, but one is already there.

The van has a hard time starting when it's hot probably due to ethanol volatility messing the fuel mixture up of the fuel in the chamber, basically boiling it too rich as the heat dissipates from the block.  The solution is to put a spacer on but a spacer is already there. So there's nothing to be done. All is in place to push and find somewhere new and magical where I have not gone to the dentist.

Going Underground

worst picture in the history of caverns

I don't recommend Carlsbad Cavern on a summer weekend unless you like Disneyworld and Boy scouts mixed together 700 ft underground...but my solution was to sit down in a corner and wait for everyone to leave. then I got the place to myself. Very impressive landscape and I've seen everything.

Oggy Reflects Humbly

I figured my recent screed would get some vile responses and that's what happened. Actually, I'd be disappointing if no one was offended. I got what I asked for and I don't feel good about it. Not one person said, "You are right, Oggy, we've been lied to and we've lied to ourselves and now it's time to make amends."
No.

It was more like, "You are the hypocritical cunt, Oggy! You suck ass! I will slash the tires on your van if I see it parked outside my house. You piss in a milk jug so who are you to talk?"

or

"I don't see you housing any illegal immigrants in your pervert/creeper van, you piece of shit."

or

"Fuck you, Oggy! You'll reap what you sow when I put my foot in your ass."

or

"Coward and hypocrite. Go back to Honduras you greasy motherfucker and take some Guatemalans with you."

 or

 "I'm fat and watching baseball and drinking a gin and tonic and I think you are a total asshole."

Ok, you get the idea. I would apologize but I really don't feel sorry. I feel superior to everyone because I am superior. I can out philosophize you and out fight you and out write you. I can stand on my head and shoot marbles out my ass to the moon if that will please me. And I'm not sorry for pointing out the incredible stupidity of my fellow man. Yes, I know what's wrong and I will repeatedly demonstrate my disdain for humanity all while living in a van and pissing in milk jugs and showering naked in the desert and shitting in shallow holes. It's insanity! I know! But these are fucked up times. Do you really want to go to the grave knowing that Richard Nixon set a precedent and you followed it? REALLY? The guy was a fucking narcissistic monster. He was bombing two countries at once, lying to America, spying, making affordable health care impossible, destroying lives with a drug war that only recently was determined to be a horrible idea, and finger fucking Chairman Mao at the same time. NOTHING HE DID WAS RIGHT. So, I reason, to counteract all the evil done by Nixon we must open our borders completely, transfer all the wealth of the Republican party to a new State known as West Texas, where Honduran refugees will be welcomed to air conditioned luxury funded by legal heroin and enjoy socialized medicine. Why? Because that's the exact opposite to what Nixon would want.

I'm sorry you are too dumb to realize that. So we will continue to reap the shit storm.