My Last Road Trip—Maybe

 

          My Last Road Trip—Maybe

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Jim from Missouri, one of my part-time neighbors, walked over to ask if I would like to go with him to Isla de la Piedra, otherwise known as Stone Island, across the estuary from Mazatlan, my old stomping grounds.

We quickly knocked out the details for a short trip, two days on the road flanking two days on the water.

Jim and I have talked, with much laughter, a lot these last few weeks about impending death, our own, which is not to be taken as morbid, but, as practical. We might be considered the halt and the lame, me mechanically, Jim with lung challenges. We both have friends on the coast we wanted to see, at least once more.

Monday we drove the cuota, the toll road, over which I’ve been many times but not in the last five or six years. So, for me, this drive was much like seeing the country with fresh eyes.

Once we’d arrived, we filled our time in exactly the ways we’d intended.  I met Jim’s friend, Lynn, truly a character and a delight, a woman with energy to spare. We sat around a campfire on the beach. 

Lynn is a decade older than me, more spry, with a never-ending repertoire of stories. May we all have Lynns in our world.

My own main purpose for the trip was to see my old friend, Carlos.

Carlos drives a pulmonia. The pulmonia is one of the modes of public transport in Mazatlan, an open air conversion of a WWII model Volkswagen. When I lived in Mazatlan, Carlos, and then his family, took me under wing and helped me navigate through much of my business and personal needs.

We became close and I needed, wanted, to tell Carlos, face to face, how important he and Selena were to me and how much I love them all. Hugs, tears, laughter, stories of family: that describes our day of sweet wonderful. That’s the best way I can say it.

When not with Lynn or Carlos, we filled our hours with fresh seafood, with watching the waves roll in. Our hotel rooms overlooked the beach with an excellent restaurant adjacent. What’s not to like!

Thursday, on the road again. We took the toll road as far as Tepic, a bit over halfway, then jumped onto the camino libre for the winding road through mountain villages and lava fields, with frequent stops along the way. This is my favorite part of the road, slower, with several hold-your-breath turns, but more scenic by far than the cuota.

While we were gone from home on our not-so-epic journey, the season turned from winter to spring, a welcome coming home for two grizzled, happy and exhausted travelers.

Both Jim and I felt like we’d done something important. We’d told people we loved them, and face-to-face is always better.

Sondra Ashton

HWC: Looking out my back door

March 4, 2026

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Mazatlan On the Pacific

Mazatlan On the Pacific

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            Greetings from Mazatlan. Every morning I sit on my balcony and watch the waves sloppy kiss the sand. Bird Island sits directly across a narrow stretch of water. Condors, vultures by any other name, circle thermals upward from island nests, then split off in search of wider skies and prey. Shrimp boats troll the horizon. Frigate birds patrol the sky. Pelicans dive face first into the sea, bob up with fish hanging from beaks. Morning sun splatters the beach through coconut palm filters.

            One morning I scattered crumbs on the balcony wall for a persistent dove in search of a handout. The following morning she showed up and demanded more. My “cupboard” was bare. Now I make sure to save a tortilla or bread roll from dinner. She brought her mate, then her family; now I suspect she invited her neighbors. If we stayed much longer, I’d have to bring a daily loaf of bread.

            This week I’m in Mazatlan with Denise, a Harlem classmate, and her husband, Don, mixing medical business with pleasure. Don is having extensive dental work. Denise is getting teeth cleaned plus an eye exam and new glasses.

            I returned to Dr. Paty, my, now our, dentist, in fear and trembling, the way I approach any dentist. I like her so I keep coming back, covert excuse for holiday in Mazatlan. I had a tooth throwing my jaw out of alignment. The tooth never hurt. This sounds crazy but that tooth was driving me crazy. Some days it was hard to eat, hard to talk. Have you ever had a dentist massage your jaw throughout a procedure?

            The larger part of the week I get to show off my Mazatlan, tourist spots as well as the places tourists never get to see.

            Meeting old friends from when I lived here delights me. Our beach hotel is in my old stomping grounds, the neighborhood in which I walked daily. So I know a lot of people, neighbors, street vendors, restaurant workers. All greet me with hugs; their faces beam welcome.

            My dear friend Carlos made my heart sing with his report on his son, Carlitos, who has been undergoing cancer treatment this entire past year. Now, hopefully nearing the end of chemo treatments, Carlitos weighs over 60 kilos, between 130 and 140 pounds. In his current photo, he looks good, baseball cap tightly pulled over his head. The last photo I saw, Carlitos looked like a skeleton with skin and nobody had much hope.

            Carlos gives his wife, Selena, a lot of credit for her strength and faith. When Carlitos wanted to quit, his family kept him going. Hope, we have hope.

            For me, simply being with Don and Densie is a treat. Denise and I are discovering even more things we have in common. At reunions, we never had the chance to spend hours of uninterrupted time. We knew one another quite well, but now have reached a deeper level.

            I never knew Don at all, really, outside of a series of intriguing email messages. Now I have a new friend.

            This article sounds like a letter from a distant relative, so I’ll close, sincerely, with love from your favorite Aunt Sondra.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

January 18, 2018

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