Last week I shared some of our adventures on our nine-day road trip to Mexico. I took a bunch more pictures than I posted last time, and some of them are just clamoring to be shared. I swear, they can be as obnoxious as characters wanting their story to be told.

My dad has always been a dog person, and tolerated the stray calico that adopted us when I was 12 only because we were living on four acres, which meant we had mice. Enter Cali, exit mice. Down in Mexico a couple years ago, he was cooking steaks on the gas grill when a stray cat, white with grey tabby markings, jumped up and snagged a sizzling steak right off the hot grill. He figured if she was hungry and brave enough to do that, she had moxie, and he’d feed her. She soon had kittens. All three cats are spayed or neutered, and still hang around though they’re far from tame. There’s also a solid black male that shows up from time to time, and our last morning there a solid grey cat was at the breakfast dish, too. Dad reports he has no mice or any other small vermin. Or small birds in the vicinity, either, but feels that’s a small price to pay.

This is Spot, the largest of the mama cat’s offspring. He shadowed my every move outside and occasionally let me pet him (the only one of Dad’s semi-wild cats who would let me pet them — I was highly affronted) in the hopes I might have food.

Leaving my dad’s place in San Felipe during daylight hours meant we actually got to gawk at the passing scenery. These are the hills to the west of the Sea of Cortez. The yellow road sign with wavy marks over the roadway means that’s where the road dips down to let rain water flow over the pavement on its way to the sea. Last year the region had about one quarter inch of rain.

About an hour north of San Felipe is the Army checkpoint. Going in Friday night, the guard and I had a brief conversation to ascertain that we knew someone in Mexico and didn’t plan to stay long, and he waved us on. Leaving Monday morning, this Army dude (the live one, next to the cute wooden one with the flag) made us stop and get out so he could search our vehicle. We must not have looked dangerous because it wasn’t a very thorough search in the least. He didn’t even look in the ice chest to see all the Coca-Cola Light we were smuggling out. (It’s diet Coke, bottled in Mexico, but tastes like regular Coke. Really.)

It took a full hour to get through the US border crossing (note to self: never try to leave another country on Monday morning) so we didn’t reach the Palm Desert area until well into the afternoon. Mike didn’t want to stop and let me dip my toes into the Salton Sea (“we’re making good time”) so I had to settle for testing my digital camera’s zoom and auto focus capabilities at 70 mph. In the background is the Chocolate Mountains. Yes, that’s really what they’re called. Says so on the atlas.

Traveling from Oregon to the desert and back in December, we packed for both summer and winter. Shovel, snow chains, gas can, water, wakeboarding bags to fill with water for extra weight and traction over the rear axle if needed; parkas, gloves and scarves; shorts, sandals and sunscreen; sleeping bags, air mattress and tent. We needed almost none of it. But we were prepared!

The closest we came to snow was Mt. Shasta near the Oregon/California border (again from 65 mph because we were making good time)…

…and this beautiful frosty morning as we entered Oregon.

Once home, we were greeted by our kittens, who did not snub us for being gone like our previous cats used to do. Maybe having two cat sitters stop by every day helped.

As much as I enjoyed our trip, it is nice to be back home in a normal routine, balanced, like yin and yang here: