"The Pineapple Smugglers"
By dore jones

      We left PAL Trailer Park in San Antonio Tlayacapan early that March morning, destination Canada. “We” were husband Bill and I, plus dog, in a 26' motor-home towing a small car. Driving through Guadalajara without getting lost was a pleasant surprise. Outside Guad we paid the first of many tolls. Although pricey, cuota roads are in better shape, shorter than libre roads, and mostly divided highways. At that first toll Bill checked car and dolly. He does this regularly because things can (and do) go wrong. There are two main ways to tow a car: flat-towing, with four wheels on the road, or our way, with front wheels on a dolly. The car was attached to the dolly by two chains, plus a harness over each front tire.
      He found both harnesses off and one chain broken, putting the car’s four wheels on the road. It could have been worse. The car could have come off and been left behind. The transmission could have been ruined. The front tires could have been slashed by the dolly’s fenders. Only the latter happened. (We replaced tires in Arizona.) As Bill examined the damage, a dozen husky young men materialized, lifted dolly off the RV, removed car chains and put it all back together again. They helped without being asked, and were happy with two hundred pesos to split among them. Thanks to these Mexicans and good old Canadian jury-rigging, we were quickly on our way. We traveled more than three hundred miles that day, reaching Mazatlan before dark. We spent the night on a Pemex lot, which was noisy but safe.
      Day Two, we followed the Pacific coast, driving 400 miles, spending the night at a Pemex south of Guaymas.
      Day Three we were stopped several times by the guys with guns, checking for drugs. However, we drive an old rig, don’t wear expensive clothes or jewelry and we’re seniors, so we were consistently waved through.
      At one check point three soldiers were standing with their rifles as though posing for a picture. I raised my camera and pow! the flash created instant havoc! All three pivoted away, covering their faces; they marched over to us looking quite fierce, and I realized I shouldn’t have done that.
      Driving in Mexico, we find it useful to carry candy to offer police and custom officers. When Bill handed the soldiers the sweets, you should have seen the goofy grins! They were just kids, sixteen, seventeen years old. Later that day we would reach the US border at Nogales. Last year on our run north, American Customs went through my fridge, filling a grocery bag. I knew about not carrying fruit but not about luncheon and frozen meats. “Lady, you don’t want to know about Mexican pork; we don’t want that coming into our country.” I wanted to say, “Hey man, I’ve been EATING it!”
      We still had a little produce, which I put in a bag for them, but I was not going to surrender that wonderful fresh pineapple. Bill hid it under the bed in a dusty tool compartment. I worried about the four equipales (chairs) and table that we’d bought for our deck back home. Their covers were made of pigskin; would we have a problem? Also, could the drug-sniffing dogs smell hidden pineapples? Customs wanted to know if we had any fresh produce and I said, “Yes, all ready to go.” He directed us to Bay #5 and put an ominous note on our windshield.
      The man in #5 was a good ole boy, suspiciously friendly. “How many of y’all are there? Jest the two of ya?” Right on cue, Matilda barked her hound bark, and Bill said, “No, there’s three of us,” patting the dog on the head. “Is that there a hound dog?” customs asked, and we talked hound dogs for ten minutes. Matilda is a Kentucky Redbone, a coonhound; customs had never seen her breed before. Being the trooper she is, she fussed over him lavishly.
      He did his job. He asked what the furniture was made of (Oops!) but wood and leather was fine (not sewn with endangered cactus thread). He took my bag of produce and gave a cursory look inside the fridge. Bill presented him with a pig’s ear treat for his own hound. Finally he gave us a list of what is, and isn’t, permitted across the border. Pineapple is allowed!

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