As a young forester in northwestern California in the winter of 1954 I found that my work in the mountains was limited by snow and winter weather and my employer allowed me a three week vacation. My wife, Billie and I borrowed a 13 foot Aljoa trailer from a brother-in-law and took off in late December for Mexico. We had a new 1955 red Ford station wagon and our four year old son Kevin along with us. Down the central valley of California, across the Tehachapi mountains, and across the border into Mexico at Nogales we traveled, oblivious to what high adventure lay ahead.
We continued south through Hermosillo to Guaymas where we met the Gulf of California. We snorkeled in the relatively warm water, walked the beaches, checked out the shopping, and visited the cathedral like church. Around a point from Guaymas we found a deserted beach on San Carlos Bay. Off in the distance we saw what appeared to be another gringo. We got closer and greeted each other and told the man we came from a little town in northern California that he probably never heard of called Ukiah. Oh yes he said , I have heard of it, my name is Paul Poulos and I am the major of Ukiah. So much for the small world theory.
My wife Billie, having grown up on an apple ranch, had lots of experience driving trucks and tractors so she had no trouble driving our car and trailer on what were rudimentary, no shoulder roads. Billie had more than her share of driving from Guaymas on, where the road to Tepic crossed six rivers, none of which had real bridges. The river crossings were mostly fords, where we crossed hoping the water wasn’t so high it would drown our car. Once when Billie was driving I woke up to an awful jolting. We were crossing a railroad trestle being ushered on be one of the always friendly Mexicans.
Any R.V. facilities were few and far between so we generally parked on or near the beach and roughed it. One side trip from the main road was from Los Moches to Topolabampo on the Gulf on a narrow dike like road between flooded fields. Our new car and the trailer took a beating on this type of road but seemed to survive. We actually had no vehicle problems on the whole trip.
We finally arrived at Tepic which was an old market town at that time. We negotiated the narrow streets, shopped, sampled the food and enjoyed this picturesque town. To me this was real Mexico with no signs of tourists or of U.S. influence. Our son Kevin was a little smiling tow headed boy that was a real oddity particularly for the children who wanted to touch his blond hair.
Our next stop was at Mazatlan where I was told that there was a wood treating plant nearby that treated piling and lumber with creosote and other preservatives. Since wood treating was the main business that my employer back home was engaged in, I searched out the plant in the commercial district. It must have been in business for decades for it was a great mass of black oil coated machinery, tanks, and conveyors. It was something that would give an E.P.A. executive a heart attach state side in this day and age. It was nothing like the operations I was familiar with.
We saw a hospital under construction on the Mazatlan beach. It had one wing mostly completed. We came back some 10 years later to find that the one wing was being used but the other wing was still under construction.
We were told that the Mexican government required that as much work as possible be done by hand; with wheelbarrows, etc. in order to create as much employment as possible. The portion of the hospital that was finished had beautiful tile work decorations which we saw on many major buildings on our trip.
We turned inland to Guadalajara where we checked out the Cathedral and market place. At the market place we managed to get cited for parking in the wrong place but a tip to the police settled that. At the market place we bought a set of wicker furniture; settee, chairs, etc. which we had shipped home. The set arrived several weeks later and we used it and enjoyed it for several years.
Also we bought a blue glass cordial set at a small glass factory at the market. The workers at the glass factory were mostly pre teen children who shoveled broken coke bottle into a large furnace where the glass was melted and then poured into molds for the various glass products.
We still have the blue glass set as a remembrance of the market and the great trip. Guadalajara was one of the few places we stopped where we had access to an R.V. park.
From Guadalajara we returned to the coast and the small town of San Blas. It was an old town with a tumbled down fort covered with vines and iguanas. San Blas, we were told was a major port on the west coast of Mexico at one time. Maxi million, the French emperor of Mexico, used it to import wealth from the Philippines and the rest of the orient. Now San Blas was a sleepy beach town on the edge of the jungle waiting for some tourist to discover it and we did. We took a motorboat trip a mile or two up a fresh water stream to where it started at a jungle spring fed pond. We jumped out of the boat into the pond to cool off only to find that the bottom was covered with forest detritus and we sank up to our knees in the goopy stuff. It was a short swim. At least it had no alligators. Billie visited this pond some 20 years later with another son and found that there was a thriving food and gift facility as a new addition by the locals.
San Blas had a wide hard packed white sand beach that stretched off in the distance to the south. We drove our car on the beach and gave Kevin a chance to steer the car for the beach was uncluttered and wide enough for an accident free adventure for a four year old.
We waded into the water, which was a rippling surf with no breakers. We found it alive with one to two foot long hammerhead sharks which seemed to be curious and nosed our legs but didn’t bite.
It wasn’t all fun for poor Kevin was bitten by the tiny bug called no-seeums. He swelled up all over his head. It looke like someone had gone after him with a ball peened hammer. It tuned out to be a precursor of insect bite allergy which later in life became life threatening. Kevin has always been a good sport and he toughed out this setback.
At this point time was running out and we had enough adventure and were ready to head home. We backtracked through the country we had come through with lots of friendly waves from the Mexicans along the road.
We arrived home in mid January 1955 to find that we had missed massive flooding caused by a tropical storm that besides dropping lots of water melted the snow pack. While we were gone it caused millions in damage when a million was real money. The state government declared it a 200 year event though nine years later we had an even worse flood. We were fortunate as our home and most of Ukiah were above flood waters.
Since that Mexico trip we have traveled by RV through all but one of the United States, all but three Canadian provinces and territories, and seven Mexican states. We have gone through three trailers and four motor homes. Our current motor home, a 34 foot Southwind Storm, is parked by the house ready to go. Our four children, seven grandchildren, and one great grandchild are all outdoor enthusiasts thanks to growing up exposed the adventure of RV travel.
Submitted by William Smith of Ukiah, CA as a part of the RV Centennial Celebration “Share Your Favorite RV Memory” contest.
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