And just outside the town we crossed one of the many Federales checkpoints.  I wish I got a better picture, but I was trying hard not to antagonize a bunch of 18-year-olds carrying rifles in an isolated place.  I have no idea what they're looking for, but they set up encampments with their humvee-type jeeps parked under a tarp, and their sleep tents behind that, and their rifles slung awkwardly over their shoulders.  They seem to make an effort to look menacing, and their olive-green jumpsuits, utility belts and helmets make the job easier, but their friendly smiles poke through and everything's alright again.  They boarded the buss, looked around for god knows what while we played with their many puppies, and when they saw how much we like one they warmed up and offered the puppy to us, explaining that they had more than they could handle.  We unfortunately declined and were on our way.   As we were leaving they mentioned something about cerveza, and we did the usual "oh no, officer, no beer here", but in hindsight I think they probably just wanted one.

We didn't even have to dispatch Roby-Wan to soften them up.

And damn lucky for them.

So we drove on and found a gorgeous spot at the side of the road to spend the night.

So until tomorrow,

from deeper and deeper in Mexico,

in the land of the redwood cactuses,

this has been another episode of Wrybread on the Road.

(Sidenote:  the pictures are a little blurry because they were compressed to levels meant to send over a satellite phone.  In most cases you can click the image to get a higher resolution version.)