Spent last night in Presidio TX at the Loma Paloma RV park and golf
course.  Kathy's son Bryan and Mexican daughter-in-law Nidia drove down
from Chihuahua to help us with Mexican Customs.

Today we headed for the border at Ojinaga around 11:00 AM.  Stopped to get
diesel at a Fina station in Presidio, the only place we could find with a
diesel pump we could drive through with our Ford F-550/K-Z 37K toyhauler
rig.  It was a rip-off.  Going rate in the area for diesel fuel is $2.699
per gallon. The pump said $2.879.  The receipt showed $3.299. We were just
topping off our tank and decided not to get into a fight over the few
dollars difference, but if you're in Presidio, keep your wallet pocket
zipped at the Fina station on US 67 at the north edge of town.

By the way, US 67 from Ft. Stockton was easy driving, with an elevation
change from about 2,300 feet up to 5,800 feet and back.  Most grades were
relatively easy, even for our 26,000 pound rig.

At the border, customs officials took one look into our garage and wanted
to see everything.  This didn't take as long as we had feared.  After a
few boxes stuffed with cameras, Elizabethan costumes and photo props, they
got the idea and passed us through.  One of the customs inspectors
divulged that he had worked as an actor and really enjoyed looking through
the costumes.

Getting our visitor permits was much simpler than Juarez had been last
year. The bank window was right next to the permit office.

I can't say the same for the vehicle permits.  The first clerk read our
truck registration showing 6,700 pounds delivered weight and got into an
intense discussion with another clerk.  They both went out to look at the
truck, came back and announced that the truck was too heavy and could not
be permitted.

Using Nidia as translator, we tried to argue, pointing at the similar
sized trucks passing every few minutes through the custom lanes behind us
but the clerk refused to budge.  A Mexican insurance salesman standing
behind us commented that this was nonsense -- they permitted bigger trucks
every day.

We asked to see the supervisor, who was out of the office on business, but
would be back "soon".  We hung out for over an hour, then decided to ask
the insurance salesman if he could recommend an attorney.  Instead, he
pointed to a man walking into the vehicle permit office and identified him
as the supervisor.

About ten minutes with the supervisor revealed the problem -- none of the
clerks in the permit office could convert pounds to kilograms! Apparently
the second clerk had convinced the first clerk that the conversion was to
*divide* 6,700 pounds by the pounds to kilograms conversion factor,
yielding a truck weight of nearly 15,000 kilograms!

Kathy got out her calculator and showed the correct value at just over
3,000 kilograms, but the supervisor was not satisfied.  We all trailed him
over to the customs office where our friendly actor customs inspector
confirmed Kathy's calculation.

After that, it took another 45 minutes to get the permits issued for the
truck and the 5th wheel.  This involved endless copies of all our
documents -- passports, drivers licenses, vehicle registrations, visitor
permits, credit card, then multiple signatures on forms and a contents
declaration for the 5th wheel.

Total time in customs just under 3 hours.

There are two roads between Ojinaga and Chihuahua, a toll road and a free
road.  It had been our intent to take the recommended toll road, but at
the critical moment, there was a construction detour through a working
filling station.  In the confused melee of traffic, we missed the sign for
the toll road, and unknowingly left for Chihuahua on the free road.

We only encountered 4 cows standing in the road, and one coyote that ran
across in front of us.  But there are some very high mountains between
Ojinaga and Chihuahua.  Our old F-550 did a good job patiently lugging
26,000 pounds of truck and trailer up 2 and 3 mile grades so steep that
Bryan, driving a new Nissan sedan behind us, had to shift into low gear to
make the grades himseelf.  The longest and worst run was a steady straight
rise of several thousand feet along the side of a long straight mountain.
By the time I reached the top, transmission temp was pushing 185 and
after-turbo EGT was around 900.  There was a rest stop and shrine atop the
ridge, so we stopped and let the truck idle down and rest for a while.

On the down side of the mountain, we encountered an interior customs stop.
The inspector waved us into the center lane, and did his thing.  As I was
pulling out, I realized I didn't have enough room to turn out of the
bunkered lane and tried to drive through the next set of bunkers to a
large graveled area where I could maneuver the trailer back onto the
road.

I was halfway through when something went scrunch.  Intending to bear
right when I exited the bunkers, I had let the trailer drift to the left
-- just enough to encounter a large reflective mirror overhanging the
lane, which scraped down the side of the trailer and broke the loft
window.  I was basically stuck, unable to go either way without damaging
the truck or the mirror.

At this time, a furious conversation was going on in Spanish between Nidia
and the customs inspector.  He was threatening to arrest all of us for
damaging state property, she was pointing out that the incident would not
have happened if he hadn't directed us into that particular lane.  I
started scrounging in my tool locker, found some rachet wrenches that
would fit and started removing the bolts securing the bottom of the
mirror.

With the help of Bryan and the second inspector, who pulled the now freed
bottom of the mirror away from the trailer, I was able to get the rig on
through with no more damage.  There was plenty of room on the other side
and a few minutes of maneuvering had us pointed at the road and ready to
go.

In the meantime, Nidia had convinced the inspector not to arrest us and
Kathy had a wad of pesos out offering to pay for the mirror.  The offer
was declined.  We reset the mirror support bolts and left before anybody
had second thoughts.

Compensating for the hassle was the fact that the scenery was
extraordinary along the free road.

The rest of the trip was long and very tiring, but uneventful, at least
until we reached the RV park at Chihuahua.  In trying to maneuver through
the narrow lanes of the park in semi-darkness, I scraped an (unlighted)
light pole base with the trailer.  This encounter appears to have knocked
the trailer's left front axle pin out of the leaf spring, leaving the axle
slightly askew. One of Nidia's older brothers is a professional mechanic
who works on heavy trucks and trailers.  He saw the accident and assures
me his shop can fix anything up to and including a bent axle.  Nidia
agrees that he's that good.  She predicts we'll be back on the road
"manana".

As for Kathy and me, we're exhausted and are going let manana look after
itself.  She's already horizontal and I'm headed that way.

More of our misadventures in Mexico later.

Regards, John Kinney