El Cabrito

Spring has peaked, Arizona Aspen, perfect time in Mexico

We brought the boat

Twas a huge success

Yuri joined us too, and brought his family

Good times had by all

4 in a kayak is not an easy feat, especially when 2 of them are sloppy drunk. Its like a Downs Syndrom child leading a yoga sequence.   But after tipping many times on day 1, we figured out how to secure our drinks and keep our cores centered despite BAC.   Every day we had hour long paddles with the whole family, G and Alana swimming in open water back to the intertube we towed.   After maybe 5 uses in 6 years, the kayak is finally back in the rotation.

Yuri also brought a fat bike. Salsa Mukluk.

*WANT*

the fatbike was more fun than anyone should be allowed. No worries, no cars, just beer and pedals and water. A guy came bolting down from his beach house to ask me about tire width. A security guard swung his ATV over and asked to take a picture. A woman with a great fake rack asked if it was a custom frame, I asked her the same.

I got out to some places i dont haven’t gotten to. Saw an American Oystercatcher for the first time

And some of this

Los caballeros asked me about it 2 hours later while G was riding their horses and the bike was headed back to Phx with Yuri. A fat bike is what it takes to get noticed by the mexicans.

Me: como se llama amigo
El Caballero: Antonio
Antontio: How long you ride bikes?
Me: mi todo vida
Me: How long has your son ridden horses. Su hijo, los caballos, cuento?
Antonio: seis anos. How old the girl?
Me: Seis, bicicleta para cinco.

I foresee more horse rides in our future. I got money to spread, i take care of my bros.   I got no pictures. The moment was just that awesome.   I reminded Antonio when his youngest horse kicked G, and we all laughed.

With kayaking and fat-biking, the only workout of the weekend was highland games dragging the boat up off the beach

On Day 3 i went for a run, and heard a squealing while hitting hill repeats on a dune near Casa V.   It came from under a dessicated, thorned shrub.   When i looked close i saw a low path into the undergrowth, just worn enough for dogs. The squealing continued, and enraged my estrogen-saturated alpha male.   I ripped the bush apart, coughing up powder and rot with every pull, sinking splinters in my hands that took a week to surface. Just when i saw the small brown pup, three dogs of mixed breeds barked from atop the dune. Great…momma does care, and she is wild and she brought friends. I left the little guy and ran home, returned with a half lb of dog foot and a pint of water. He eats, momma would eat, or everyone would die anyway, but at least I’d tried to make my incursion right.   I heard a distinctly adult growl from the brush when I placed my offerings, and retreated wishing them all god-dogspeed.

Everyone loves their children