On the road from Mulege, business as usual.

We passed the usual Buss groupies,

and flashed the usual cool poses, just to tide them over.

We pulled into a small town that had maybe three stores:   the taco stand, the general store, and the Alcoholics Anonymous.   We were wondering about the AA when this guy came over to explain.

He waddled up, slurred a little spanish in our direction,

and his friend joined and insisted we stay at his ranch or something like that.  It was all very confusing.  This was quite a town:  Rina was getting comments from a group outside the general liquor store, we were all getting a hostile vibe from every direction, and Ryk was nowhere to be seen.   I revved the engine and concentrated on passing the seconds.  AA gave me my 5 minute chip and finally Ryk appeared.  He made his way through the two drunken idiots, I slammed the door behind him and gunned the throttle probably harder than is good for a vehicle this size, and with a lurch we got the hell out of town.   It's been weird all day, and Kayak John from Bahia de Los Angeles warned that Sunday is drunk day in Baja.

It's the logical sequence:  church in the morning and tequila the rest of the day.

We stopped at one of the little roadside church kiosks to light a candle to the generally weird mood.

When we parked, a Camaro overflowing with drunken Mexicans drove up with two guys sitting on the roof with a bottle of tequila between them and so drunk their faces were blurry.  They were offering us something in slurred Spanish while we drove the hell away, with me relating to the scene in Apocalypse Now where they leave the boat in deepest Cambodia and get attacked by a tiger, and return screaming "Never leave the boat! Never leave the fucking boat!"   Never leave The Buss on Sunday in Baja.