Belize Honeymoon (Part 3)

The Flight to Oaxaca

After our “restful” night’s sleep, we packed and prepared for the next leg of our trip, a three-hour flight to Oaxaca, Mexico. I had suggested a stop over in Oaxaca to M&M on the recommendation of my sister who has visited that city regularly. She described it as a charming city, seeped in southern Mexican and Indian traditions and noted for its folk art, vibrant colors, and its outstanding food. Our taxi driver was waiting at the appointed hour of 8am. The one hour trip back to Santa Elena airport seemed much quicker than the outbound trip.

We packed our plane, went through the minimal formalities required by Guatemala, filed our VFR flight plan to Oaxaca and departed. The weather was glorious and the forecast was good except for a possible overcast around Oaxaca which was due to burn off by the time we arrived. This leg was to be quite different from our flying thus far because of the mountains. These are the southern continuation of the Rocky Mountain chain and are just as high and imposing. Oaxaca itself is situated at just over 5,000 feet. The city is surrounded by towering mountains in all quadrants. Our flight path was further constrained by a large restricted area covering most of our route that had its floor at 7,000 feet. This forced us to fly below 7,000 feet until we went beyond the restricted area and by that time we were at the beginning of the mountains and would be forced to climb to at least 12,000 feet for the last hour or so of our flight.. Once again, we did not fly in close formation, but we had 44V in sight for most of this flight. Morten took the picture below of 08M not too long after we departed Santa Elena.

N9208M early in our flight to Oaxaca

The Overcast

My new GPS showed very clearly our departure from Guatemalan airspace and our entry into Mexican territory. We were flying at 6,500 feet on a slightly dog leg course designed to avoid some of the most southern mountains and to keep us clear of a multitude of restricted areas that dipped down to the surface. After about 2 hours of flying, we started to see increasing cumulus clouds (the puffy kind) as the ground also began a gradual rise. We were able to zig and zag through the bigger buildups but it was clear, to me at least, that they were quickly going to close ranks and become a solid overcast above us. This posed a dilemma, of sorts, because we had to get higher to cross the mountains but could not yet climb because of the restricted area. There was a risk, if we continued at 6,500 feet, of being trapped below the overcast and therefore unable to climb while maintaining visual contact. At this point, Morten and I made different decisions. I decided to climb above the clouds while he decided to continue on the assumption that he could climb later on through some hole in the clouds that would present itself. My decision forced me to violate the restricted area as I climbed to 10,500 feet. I turned off the altitude reporting mode of my transponder that told the radar controllers (if there were any) what my altitude was. With no altitude reporting, they could not bust me for any violation of the restricted area. I doubted that my action would in any way endanger myself or any military aircraft in the area since the visibility above the overcast was excellent. In fact, we could see the rising towering mountain range at least 50 miles ahead.

Morten reported that, in fact the overcast closed in above him and within 15 minutes he too reported level at 10,500 feet having once again found a virtual hole in the clouds. I guess we both broke the rules in different ways but we each had to deal with the weather situation in the way we were most comfortable with.

The overcast breaks up as we crossed the mountains surrounding Oaxaca.

The mountain peaks got closer and before long we were among them and just a few minutes out of Oaxaca. As forecast, the overcast started to break up and the Oaxaca ATIS (weather condition broadcast) was reporting clear conditions.

We both contacted Oaxaca tower at about the same time and were directed to land on runway 36, that is the main runway facing north. I lost sight of 44V as we approached the airport and that was a bit worrying but not unusual. Actually the reason we lost sight of him was that we were making an approach to different runways. He was following the correct procedure but I made a mistake that even now embarrasses me. My new GPS was setup to paint my desired course to the airport as up. Since I was approaching the airport from the northwest, the apparent position of the airport on the moving map showed runway 18, the southbound runway, as being “up”. And north is up, right? In this case, it definitely was not. On short final I realized my mistake and apologized to the tower for my error. The lady controller was very nice about it and told me to continue my approach and land. I am still shaking my head about this mental lapse. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen. And I had two bottles of oxygen handy. I just had to put on the mask and open the valve.

Drug Sniffing Dogs

Back in Mexico we were prepared for excessive bureaucracy and fees. And we were not disappointed. We parked in a far corner of the main ramp and were met by sizable group of uniformed soldiers (or policemen). They asked to see our papers. I notice that they had two large dogs in tow and that one of the members of the party was making a video. It turned out the dogs were drug sniffers and the inspectors wanted the dogs to inspect all our bags. At one point my dog actually jumped up on the wing and poked his/her nose into the airplane. I still had tarry dog prints on the wing when I returned home. Because of the large group of observers and the video being taking, I suspect the dogs were a new program and our arrival was designed to showcase the apprehension of big-time drug dealers arriving from the south. I guess we failed the test, because after a considerable period of sniffing and paper shuffling, we were pointed in the direction of the terminal building. There we suffered the usual delays, fees, and uncertainties of Mexican customs and immigrations. Unlike Vera Cruz, however, there were no special fees for arrivals on Tuesday afternoons and our multi entry declaration worked as advertised and we did not have to spend $50 US on another one. In short, we got off easy.

The Cooking School

We got into an airport taxi and headed into the city to stay in our next accommodation, a B&B and cooking school. This was sort of an odd combination, I will admit, but the advertisements on the Internet looked charming, the price was about half that of big name hotels, and we were traveling for adventure as well as comfort (Gayle might not have agreed entirely with that objective). In any case, I was somewhat apprehensive since this reservation was made entirely by me without any consultation with M&M who had said, “Go ahead, you make the arrangements”. I had no idea what to expect.

After some 20 minutes, and passing through what seemed to be an exceptionally clean city (by Mexican standards) we came to the colorful building in the picture below.

In front of our B&B, La casa de los Sabores

The driver checked the address and assured we had been delivered to the correct place. And, sure enough, next to the big iron door was the sign La Casa de los Sabores (the house of flavors). We rang the bell and an attractive young woman came to the door and let us enter. Like many Mexican dwellings, particularly older ones, this one was built around a courtyard open to the sky. All the guest rooms (and there were four) opened onto the courtyard. Set into one side of the courtyard, protected by an ample overhang, was the dining area and kitchen.

The Dining Area and Kitchen

It was very charming, however, as Gayle pointed out there was no central heat and being we were at 5,000 feet and it was December, it was actually a bit chilly. It turned out we all ate breakfast bundled up in sweaters, jackets, and blankets. As the day passed, the temperatures became exceedingly pleasant.

A Charming City

Oaxaca warrants a week, at least, to see all the sights and to get a flavor for the place. It’s a subtle place to visit when compared to, say, Belize or Tikal. It’s a big city and it takes time to get to know a city. We had only a day and a half so I believe we just skimmed the surface. It would be nice to return with a week on our hands. I can summarize Oaxaca as attractive, old and colonial, very colorful, and with excellent restaurants.

The main cathedral off the Zocalo or main square

Running Short of Cash

In Oaxaca I learned a lesson about planning for a trip to Mexico. It is not necessary to bring a whole wad of cash with you. Just find the nearest ATM and it will replenish your supply, in pesos, of course. We found ourselves getting a bit short on cash after all the unexpectedly large cash purchases, including airplane fuel which was no available by credit card. And the Banco de Boyd (that is Morten and Monika) was also getting short on cash so I couldn’t keep hitting up on Morten when money ran short. The Oaxaca ATM solved the problem. Just remember that $400 means pesos (about 40 dollars US) and that you really need to press the $4,000 button (400 dollars US).

Excellent Food

We found the food in Oaxaca to be excellent. The best by far, in my opinion, was the La Olla Restaurant which was owned by the same people who owned our B&B (plus cooking school). It was very popular and the associated B&B was very much to Gayle’s liking. We also had a good lunch at an upstairs restaurant overlooking the Zocalo. The meal was good and the service was excellent, unfortunately, there was something in one of the “authentic” local dishes that did not agree with Gayle and would affect us on the morrow.

Flambé deserts in the restaurant overlooking the Zocalo.

Crafts and Art

We had hoped to pick up lots of Mexican folk art in Oaxaca but found it somewhat expensive and bordering on the touristy. My guess is that one needs to venture out of the city into some of the villages where it is made to get a good price.

The Flight North

December 31^st, New Years Eve, was to be a busy day for us. We planned to make two flights, each about four hours in length so we had a full day of flying ahead. Our goal was to get to Alamos, a small colonial era city in Sonora where I had made a reservation for a New Year’s Eve gala with dinner and dancing. So we had to get an early start, up at 6am, taxi to airport at 7am, hopefully airborne by 9am. We would make a fuel stop in Puerto Vallarta and then direct to Alamos.

When Gayle awoke, she announced that she was not feeling well. She blamed something in the lunch we had had the previous day. She was, in fact, very sick to her stomach. As it turned out, we had very little flexibility in our schedule. We had to get to our next reservation and it was unlikely that we could make alternate reservations on New Year’s Eve.

We had good luck getting off from Oaxaca on time. Of course the dogs were summoned to check our plane and baggage once again, but they were faster this time, possibly because nobody was filming the procedure. The weather was good, high cirrus clouds, favorable winds, and good visibility. Our route was basically direct to Puerto Vallerta with a slight dogleg to the west to avoid a huge restricted area that occupied hundred of square miles (or kilometers) south of Guadalajara. The terrain was daunting with high mountains for virtually the entire flight. We were flying at 10,500 feet and we passed over ridge after ridge with only a few level areas between where there was some cultivation. It would have been a poor place to have any sort of engine problem.

Gayle was a real trooper. In spite of being violently sick, and that is not pleasant in any circumstances, she never once questioned our need to fly onto Alamos. Later, when she was feeling better, she proudly proclaimed it was possible to throw up in an airplane for four hours and not make a mess. Thank goodness we had good quality air sickness bags handy. The one disconcerting thing was that Gayle loves to make a statement and whenever she had a stomach spasm, she let out a bellow that would have awakened the dead. All I could do was fly the plane and ignore her. There was nothing else I could do. And she didn’t ask me to do anything other than what I was doing.

Colima Volcano

Needless to say Gayle was not enjoying the scenery. When she wasn’t actively using the barf bag, she was trying to shut out all worldly stimuli in some semblance of sleeping. To bad, because she missed one of the grandest sights of trip, 14,000 foot Colima Volcano. It towered above our altitude. It is supposedly quite active but was on its best behavior as we flew meekly by.

Colima Volcano

A Quick Stop in Puerto Vallerta

After nearly four hours in the air, the Pacific Ocean began to appear to our left. The GPS was ticking off the miles to Puerto Vallerta and it was time to begin our descent. However we were still over an imposing set of ridges and, as it turned out, we could hardly begin our descent until we passed over the final ridge and were then almost directly over the airport. We both made a wide descending pattern and were cleared to land. It was a blessing to be on the ground. Gayle was being very quiet. Our only goal was to fuel up and depart as quickly as possible. Monika took Gayle into the general aviation terminal where she was able to lie down on a row of plastic chairs. Morten and I attended to the fueling and the paperwork. Both went like clockwork and in record time, perhaps less than one and a half hour we were airborne again. Although not feeling chipper, the horizontal time had done Gayle a world of good and at least she was not actively nauseous. This terrain below us on this leg of the flight was very different from the prior leg. We were actually flying over a relatively narrow coastal plain that was punctuated with marshes, lagoons, and estuaries. As the flight progressed we edged away from the coast on a heading that would take us direct to Alamos. We flew over farms and grazing land and fairly frequent habitations.

A Helicopter Goes Down

About the time we were passing abeam of Los Moches, a coastal city about an hour out of our destination, we heard a commotion on the ATC frequency entirely in Spanish. One voice was very excited. We had no idea what the meaning of these transmissions was. A little while later, we heard the controller ask a US registered aircraft if they would fly to a specific location because there was an indication that a helicopter had crashed. The pilot agreed, and a little while later he announced that he could see nothing and then, apparently, continued on his way. That was the last we heard of it.

Arrival in Alamos

We arrived in Alamos at about 4pm just about on our original plan (somewhat remarkable considering that this was Mexico). The airport at Alamos had been recently paved and was in good condition, much better, in fact, than on my earlier visit in April. We were met by the entire family of the airport manager. This gave us lots of little hands to help us with our baggage and tying down the airplanes. We asked for a taxi which arrived almost instantly.

The mountains surrounding Alamos airport

Colonial Grandeur con Gringos

Stopping in Alamos was again my contribution to our travel itinerary. I had taken a one-night trip to Alamos in the spring after attending a wedding in Tucson. I found in very picturesque with a lot of the earlier 19^th century colonial grandeur well restored. It is an interesting place, in part, because there is a sizable American community living here and that accounts for a good deal of the wealth and the restoration of the older casas. Alamos has a beautiful town square complete with the obligatory cathedral. And there are a number of hotels, restaurants, and shops that would seem to cater to Americans and tourists. There is also a covered market place that serves as the combination Safeway and Wall Mart for the locals and visitors alike.

The cathedral at Alamos

Casa de Maria Felix

The taxi dropped off at our lodging, the casa Maria Felix, hotel and museum. The museum part is a tribute to the 40’s-era Mexican movie actress Maria Felix who has been born in Alamos and lived on the very site where the hotel was located. I was again somewhat apprehensive about the accommodations since I had made them and was not at all certain if my traveling companions or my wife would approve. As it turned out, Casa Maria Felix was very satisfactory and we each had a private casita or guest house in the back overlooking the garden and pool. Gayle, in any case, was not very appreciative and simply wanted to go to bed. I tucked her in and gave her a bottle of Coca Cola to settle her stomach..

The living room of our casita

There was an interesting story about casa Maria Felix that I learned from the owner named Barbara the following day. She was a Canadian woman architect who had built the casa about four years earlier. Nothing was spared. The house and the casitas were all beautifully designed and authentic to the flavor of the original Mexican architecture. It was not really intended to be a “hotel”. But it seems that Barbara, the owner, had fallen on hard financial time, something to do with being overly invested in Enron and Worldcom. Further, she had, the previous year, fallen head first into the swimming pool which unfortunately did not have any water in it. She suffered serious head injuries and is now in precarious health. So she opened her home as a ”B&B” except she does not serve breakfast. The establishment is for sale for (if I remember correctly) for $450,000 US which is quite a lot of money for Mexico. In Monterey, the house would be worth 3,000,000.

New Year’s Eve “Gala”

The hotel where I stayed in April was hosting a big gala New Year’s Even dinner and dance and we all had reservations. After 8 hours of flying, I expected to be very tired, but we all (except poor Gayle) were feeling quite chipper. M&M and I decided to walk into town to get a little local color while there was still some light. The quickest way to the center of town was up a little back alley to the top of a hill that overlooks the town and then down the other side. This walk was almost entirely through a part of town occupied by local Mexican families. It was interesting to see the little homesteads that were all pretty primitive looking but very clean and tidy. We were greeted with “Allo” from all the little children. We went to the hotel to confirm our reservation, had a margarita at the bar, and headed back to our lodging. All of the buildings in Alamos seem quite barren and un-welcoming from the outside, but they are all designed around courtyards and the charm faces inwards and all the buildings offer a cold shoulder to the world at large. One could peek through the occasional open oaken door or wrought iron gate to see the lushness and warmth inside.

At the appointed hour, Monika, Morton and I returned to the hotel hosting the gala. It was all decorated as befitting a New Year’s Eve celebration. There were perhaps 50 large tables set up in the courtyard and in the arge dining room with white tablecloths, blue napkins, china and glassware. We found our table and our places were marked with our names. We were seated with a large Mexican family that looked very aristocratic, a husband and wife, five well-behaved children, and a matriarch. I imagined they were Don Cristobol de Santana-Ortega and his wife Donna Maria Anna Isabella Margarita Rodriguez-Fuentes owners of 150,000 acres of prime Sonora ranchland, and direct descendants of the recipients of the original land grants from Queen Isabella of Spain. They of course, retained title to their land through the revolution by displaying true democratic political leanings and a personal friendship with Pancho Villa. Actually, we cannot verify the above suspicions because they spoke no English and we no Spanish. We smiled at each other from time to time.

The meal arrived, served by a small army of attendants. The meal started off with a superb appetizer but as the courses progressed, the meal became very ordinary. We ordered (I think) two bottles of wine and there was none remaining when we left.

At one point M&M got up to dance, and I was immediately engaged in conversation by four middle aged ladies in the adjoining table. I think they were thrilled to find an unattached male person approximating their age. I may be exaggerating a bit, but I felt they pounced on me like a family of cats vying for a tasty small mouse. They were exceeding curious as to what was the exact relationship between me and Morten and Monika. We had a polite conversation and it quickly turned out that in Alamos everybody knows everybody and I received a full background briefing about Casa Maria Felix and our hostess. It turned out that because of our long-standing reservation, several local ladies were forced to find other accommodations for the evening.

At about 10pm, I looked at Morton and Monika and realized that they looked as tired as I was beginning to feel. It was decided in a moment, that it was time to go to bed and we got up and left well before the witching hour. I found Gayle sound asleep and crawled into our bed and pulled up the colorful covers and was out like a light.

Last Leg

We awoke refreshed the following morning. Gayle, was feeling much better (although not 100 percent). I scoured through the main house and found the promised pot of coffee and brought the spoils back to Gayle and we shared the events of the previous night. After some time, M&M appeared and we decided to walk into town for breakfast. The only place we could find open was the same hotel where the gala was held the previous night. The tables had been taken down, but decorations still gave the place a festive morning after look. Our water said he served at the dinner and had had only 2 hours sleep. After a good breakfast, we strolled around town and prepared to leave.

Our departure from Alamos took place around noon which actually was 1pm Oaxaca time but we had gained an hour as we entered Sonora state and would gain another hour when we reentered the USA. The first order of business was getting fuel and simultaneously going through departure procedures. To do this we made the 20-minute flight to Ciudad Obregon. There we were handled with great dispatch and were soon on our way for the final foreign leg of our vacation. It was approximately three and one half hours to Calexico, California which was to be our airport of entry. It was interesting to me that we had filed this flight plan for our reentry into the US over two weeks previously with San Diego flight service. And here we were completing our vacation, almost to the minute of our expected arrival time. To imagine that the entire vacation had gone exactly as we had planned it was quite amazing. By the time we arrived home we had traveled over 5000 miles, traversed four countries, landed in 13 different airports, and I had added almost 36 hours to my log book.

While on this final leg together, we tried to form up with Morten and Monika and 44V. But, for some reason, it didn’t seem that easy. I guess we were really quite tired.

Calexico

We updated our arrival time at Calexico with San Diego Flight Service through the Yuma RCO (Remote Communication Outlet) when we were about 35 minutes out. Our final contact with the Mexican authorities was with Mexicali tower as we passed through their terminal control area. Calexico is a totally insignificant looking airport, a single runway about 500 feet from the imposing fence that separates the USA from Mexico. It is always rather dusty and brown. The runway is famous for having huge heaves in the surface that make it almost impossible to arrive without a few extra bounces.

Calexico US Customs Service Building

The arrival procedures went smoothly helped by having the declaration filled out ahead of time thereby saving the custom officer the trouble of writing everything down. Beside, it gives the impression of being an old pro at this international flying game. We were quickly fueled up and ready to leave.

This was, in some ways, a very sad moment. We were now to part company with Morten and Monika our nearly constant companions of the prior two weeks. In retrospect, this trip may have been something of a gamble. We did not know M&M that well nor did they know us. It could have been a disaster of incompatible personalities, dissimilar interests, or conflicting desires, especially when you consider that Gayle and I are old enough to be their parents. Instead, M&M turned out to be relaxed, attractive, fun, and in every way delightful to be with. We are lucky to know them and expect to be their good friends for a long time. What a great trip! We embraced on the ramp. Said all the right things. There was an emptiness inside.

A Short Visit in Palm Springs

From Calexico we flew about 30 minutes to Bermuda Dunes airport which is part of the Palm Springs metroplex. There we were greeted by our good friends Gaylon and Pam McSmith who own a weekend house in palm Desert. Gaylon is a former Mooney owner with whom I have traveled (by Mooneys) to Alaska and Oshkosh. We had a cozy evening dominated by Gaylon’s excelled martinis and Pam’s excellent cooking (Gayle ate sparingly). We heard stories about the two weeks of almost constant rain and cold weather than had occurred while we were gone. At about 9:30 they took pity on us and let us go to bed. We slept like logs.

Bad Weather

We arose in the morning, January 2, 2005 to sunny skies with a high desert overcast. I routinely checked the weather with flight service to discover that a serious cold front was sweeping in from the Pacific and that Salinas was forecasting some bad weather later on in the day. Our plans to spend a leisurely day in Palm Springs were cancelled and after breakfast we returned to the airport and departed on an IFR flight plan to our home airport, Salinas California.

Initially the weather was pretty good. We were generally clear of clouds although there were ragged clouds in the mountains below us and a high overcast above. The surrounding Sierras were bright with their blanket of snow. After Palmdale (next to Edwards Air force Base) the weather started to close in and we were more or less between layers. 100 miles south of Salinas, be picked up a touch of ice and I requested lower (8,000) feet which was in the clear. 30 miles out I picked up the localizer and was told to descend to 5,500 feet. The windscreen iced up with a thin film and the wings had a quarter inch of rime ice. But we were nearly home. I flew the ILS . The ice melted and we broke out at 2,500 feet. We touched down and I wanted to announce to the entire tower crew (perhaps one person) and anyone on frequency that we had just arrived from Belize. Instead, I played it cool and requested taxi to our hanger as if everything was quite normal.

Salinas California

February 2005