October 2008 - Our 3rd Anniversary

I'm a bit behind in some blogging, but I had to back up to include our 3rd anniversary from October. Kurt and I traveled to Rocky Point in our 1993 Jeep Cherokee complete with music, books, magazines, buckets, beach chairs, and the hope of a wonderful anniversary getaway in Mexico with each other.

Once we arrived, we realized that our oil was leaking and leaking fast, so we shopped at the market in Puerto Penasco and bought duct tape. We were both relieved at the quick fix, not really knowing how long it would suffice.

We were headed back to our rented condo with a few other groceries, and as we cruised passed the dark beach, Kurt's adventuresome-side burst out with this: "Let's see what this thing [the Jeep] can do on the sand." He put her in 4-wheel drive and we frolicked on the beach beneath the moon with little worried sounds hiccuping out of me in sporadic spurts. I almost couldn't wait to get back to the condo because of all the stress of car problems far from home in Mexico on our "vacation," but we carried on, bumping over the dunes... well, until we stopped bumping.

"Sweetie," he began. "I think we're stuck."

"What?!" I couldn't believe it. "Kurrrrt?!"

The wheels spun. Now I believed it - we weren't going anywhere. Only deeper.

We got out to examine our situation. I couldn't stop shaking my head in disbelief, but Kurt stayed very optimistic and ran for help calling out over his shoulder, "It's an adventure, Sweetie!"

Meanwhile, I got out the video camera to document the current predicament in night-mode.

A nice man came back with Kurtis to help us push the car, and shortly thereafter one of his friends did, too. We all dug around the tires, out of breath and prayerful, for we were too close to the ocean for comfort and our poor Jeep was already in trouble and now we've gone and gotten her stuck. All of the possible what-ifs plagued my brain. Thank goodness Kurt was a glass half-full.

Loads of sand and pulses of adrenaline later, the embarrassment of feeling like a foolish American tourist flooded over us because the inevitable question came. In broken English, one of the men asked what, no doubt, they both were wondering from the start, "Why you drive on beach?" A scrunched face and a guilty "I know," acknowledgement was our reply. (Never again in our only working vehicle, that's for sure!)

After letting some air out of the tires and driving down closer to the sea (ironically) there was some firmer sand. We made headway and finally, up and off the shore Kurt drove with three running pushers no longer able to keep up. A loud, "Hooray!" came from Kurtis from inside the Jeep, his cheer audible from the sticking-place.

Profuse thanks and even hugs to our local heroes were dispersed with genuine gratitude. High tide was on the way. Whew! Close call!

The next day, we walked to the beach.

Had a picnic.

Played in the waves.

Built a sandcastle.

And watched it wash away.

It's so nice how everything can wash away so cleanly there. (That includes half of our tire tracks from the previous night. Ahem.)

We also read, napped, and went absolutely nowhere. The day escaped and we enjoyed our peaceful day on the beach.

Unfortunately, we couldn't ignore all of our troubles forever by the sea. Some troubles remained the same and the duct tape wasn't holding up.

So, the next day, Kurt drove solo into town equipped with his college Spanish textbook and he happened upon the garage that he was hoping to find. Kurt and the mechanic managed to communicate and miraculously, they had the exact part for our vehicle's make and year!

God washed away that trouble - and I was worried!

So, needless to say, we did make it home, and we did it without burning up our motor for lack of oil because of that very crucial part that cost us $650 pesos.

And we made it home with tortillas... but only a few.

What a memorable 3rd anniversary!

Relieved and Happy,

Dawn