Every journey has an end.

The Mazatlan aeropuerto is small. U.S. Airways charges twice as much for a ticket as they should and the fact the airplane is only half full going down and three quarter full returning tells volumes about the state of tourism in Mexico. Years of gang killings, drug wars, and poverty in Mexico have taken a toll on traveler’s psyches. No one, except the most resolute, would venture across America’s southern border into a country that so many people die trying to leave.

A sign in the airport says, “End of the Road.”  

Alan, Dave and I are waiting in shorts and T shirts to go back to the United States. Winter is going full blast there.

I can see why ancient tribes followed the Bering Strait into the America’s and kept moving till they found more hospitable places to live. Even then each journey had twists and turns and adventurous souls took chances for better results.

Mexico has become the third international ring on Scotttreks right hand but us travelers sometime have to go home to catch our breath.

Roots won’t keep me from packing my bags again when time, money, and imagination conspire.

We are flying back to Arizona where I drive back to New Mexico, Dave drives back to Colorado and Alan drives back to Texas.

Living far from friends and family isn’t a viable excuse anymore for not doing things together.

 

 

 

 

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