Since communication has been sketchy since Dannan and I crossed the border into Mexico I will start and give a brief overview from when we left home until the present.
This will be pretty long so I will be sending it out in chunks. This may take several newsletter to cover.
The Plan
Our plan was to drive the cars down to Costa Rica and be there no later than the 27th , hopefully sooner to find a place to rent, get the lab set up and pick up our families from the airport by the 29th. . According to all the blogs and websites we had studied the estimated travel time from the States to Costa Rica was anywhere between 6-12 days to cover the entire 3,700 miles. Plan 6 days fast or 12 days worst case scenario. We thought it would take us one, maybe two days to drive from Manti, Utah down to Nogales, Mexico. We were wrong or whatever you may want to call it: pipe dream, misinformed, sorely mistaken, etc....The wisdom of the blogs or 'Gringo Guides' to Central America did not apparently apply to our unique journey.We started out with a fair amount of cash as well. I began with a little over $6000, Dannan and Melanie had $15,000. We figured that it would take about $3000 for each of us in gas, food, repairs, etc. to make our trip. Rachael and I hoped to have $3000 left over with which to cover living expanses in Costa Rica for a month or two while Dannan and I got the dental lab up and cash flowing. We were wrong again. Like early Mormon pioneers we had no real clue what we were in for. All we knew was that God wanted us to go down there and so we pressed forward.
What actually Happened
(Swear words have been deleted)
September 17th Dannan and I were loaded up and ready to go. We had both sold all of our possession that would not fit and would not be prudent to take across Central America. We packed all or our tools, the dental lab, clothing, food storage, photo albums, books, a few of the children's toys,my crossfit gym, and our camping equipment. Our caravan would include my 15 passanger van pulling an 18' trailer, Dannan's 15 passanger van pulling a 24' gutted camper trailer, and the Royal's little blue Hyundai. Before departing we weighed the loaded vans and trailers. We both weighed 17,000lbs separately. Most of that weight was the food storage.
We planned for a nice smooth ride down to Arizona and hopefully spending the night somewhere in Tuscon. We got a late start but figured to drive through the night. We do not even get out of Manti before due to some miscommunication we loose our hired driver David Vick for over an hour. We actually wondered if he had stolen the Hyundai and went on ahead to Mexico to sell it. We later learned that this was a totally groundless concern with Mr. Vicks character.
After reuniting we set out in single file with Dannan in the lead, me second, with David Vick bringing up the rear driving the Hyundai. We did not get far. Just north of Panguitch of Arizona as we are bouncing down the road at 60mph I watch fascinated as one of Dannan's trailer tires literally explodes like a balloon. I had never seen a tire do that before. We stop, change it and get back on the road when not 15 minutes later the one right next to it explodes too. We had a second spare so we change it too. In Panguitch we buy two new tires for Dannan and an extra spare for my trailer just to be safe. Out of Kanab on our way to Page Dannan blows a 3rd tire! For those of you who know Dannan, know that he has a very wide streak of Texas through him. So you can just imagine some of the language that was used to 'bless' that trailer at this moment. We have not even gone 200 miles but it has taken us 6 hours to get this far, and the sun is setting. We know by now we 'aint making it to Tucson tonight.
Lucky for us I have a brother and sister in law who live in Page, AZ. Ben and Crystal very kindly agreed to let us come stay the night in there home. They fed us, visited with us, and were very kind.
September 18th Dannan goes to the local tire shop and pays to get his trailer outfitted with load range E tires. Those suckers are not cheap, but it worked. We are on only the 2nd day of our trip and already have spent $1500 on tires. Today without excuses we would get down to Mexico. It was not to be. Thirty minuets south of the turn off to Tuba City crossing the Navajo Indian reservation my radiator exploded just as I crested a steep hill. That is a game ender. There I sat alone with Dannan's dog and the vans for 8 hours as Dannan and David took off to find a replacement part in the middle of the desert. Providence smiled upon us and the shop in Tuba City was able to get the part on the weekly transport that was coming up that day from Phoenix. About 5pm and $350 later they show up with the part and we have it fixed and on the road by 6pm. We didn't go 5 miles before we got pulled over by a highway patrol officer who wanted to know why we didn't have trailer lights. He let us go with a warning since he'd seen me sitting on the side of the road most of the day next to a broken down van (he never stopped to see if he could help). We spent the night in Flagstaff.
September 19th We wake up that morning to discover that my van will not start. Sounded like an electrical problem. We jumped it and went to the local Auto Zone and have the battery tested, which was good, changed the solenoid, which was good, and determined that it must be the starter. I bought a new starter ($150) installed it, and had the old one tested (which was good). I pulled off the new starter and put back on the old one. The van still would not start. Meanwhile Dannan does a full front rotor and brake change while I'm playing with my van. Finally we decided to take the cursed van to a local mechanic shop. 3 hours later and $40 they have the van working. They played with the wiring assembly on the battery and she started right up. They told us the solenoid was wired funny and that's why it wouldn't start. We hit the road and actually make it through Phoenix. On the south end of Phoenix we stop for gas and the van won't start again. We jumped it and it wouldn't start. We tried again, no good. We wiggle wires, use a manual started, and use a screwdriver on the solenoid. Finally almost of it's own violation it starts. We frantically drive down to Tuscon and spend an hour searching for another auto parts store. No good. We got to Nogales and determined to break down and take it into the Ford dealership to have it repaired.
September 20th Sunday. The Ford dealership is closed. Van will not start and cannot be jumped. We are stuck in Nogales for the day. We again go the rounds of having the battery tested, the solenoid tested, pulling the old starter and putting in a new one but it was all in vain. We even have a traveling mechanic come and look the van over, but he was useless. We went to church and enjoyed the dynamics of a bilingual ward. There was a new move in looking for housing so the elders quorum president asks the elders to help him find a nice neighborhood that was “less dynamic” with 'packages' and 'humans' being trafficked through it. Nice place Nogales. Makes you want to raise kids there.
September 21st For a mere $450 ($150 for parts) the shady mechanics at the Nogales Ford dealership 'fix' my van. They swear it was the starter. The van actually starts. Even though it's late and we heard it was best to cross the border in the morning we went anyway at 4pm. We tried to cross at the Nogales #3 truck crossing and of course got pulled over to be searched. This was a true blue learning experience of dealing with bald faced liars and the bureaucratic customs agents of latin america.
First rule of border crossing: do not deal with anybody who is not actually dressed in the full uniform of an official customs agent. A mere badge is not enough. We dealt with a guy with a badge who assured us he was a customs agent who wanted to unload everything off our trailers and vans to have each item categorized and assessed a tax. He also insisted that bb's, camp hatchets, and pocket knives are weapons that cannot enter the fair and safe state of Mexico. He was a lair who wanted a bribe who didn't even work for customs.
Second rule of border crossing: The less you say about what you've got the better. When the official agents searched us they didn't even look in the trailers or under tarps. They opened our van doors, kinda' looked inside, asked us if we were carrying merchandise beyond personal possessions for resale in Mexico, and then let the matter drop. As long as we were just transmigrates driving through Mexico to another country there was no tax on any of our things. The only mistake we made here was telling them about Dannan's lab equipment which they classified as 'medical'. We still could cross Mexico for free but we now had to drive to Brownsville, TX 1500 miles away. There they could do the correct paper work to let us cross as transmigrates. After 6 hours of discussing the matter with the customs agents (mostly attractive girls in there 20's who acted very blond) they agreed we could cross with everything. They went back to Dannan's van, looked at some of the lab equipment, determined it was not medical, but got hung up on the plastic denture teeth. They were going to have to call the Mexican Dept. of Health to verify if it was safe for us to cross their country with a small box of plastic teeth. Stinger missles, small arms, rocket launchers, and napalm were all ok, but don't you dare bring plastic teeth into Mexico. They don't want your sort here unless you enter through Brownsville, TX.
So frustrated, and almost to tears, and trying to not to kill anyone, we spent the night in our vans locked up in the parking lot of the Mexican customs office. Let it be said that we were praying our hearts out seeking guidance from Above on how to overcome this situation. Before going to bed a bright thought occurred to me. If these people are so inept as to be worried about plastic teeth then there was a better than good chance that they also do not communicate between border crossings about people they had turned away. The next morning we re-entered the USA and went over to the main Nogales border crossing. A 20 minute wait later we were through! A miracle!! They did stop me and looked at my fine collection of 5 gallon white food storage buckets and took my word that it was all food. They didn't even stop Danna's monster rig or David. We were officially in Mexico. But at the infamous Kilometer 21 it was not to be.
Kilometer 21 in the state of Sonora, Mexico is were you do your official transmite documentation with the Mexican government for your vehicle, get your passport stamped, buy Mexican car insurance, and receive a road sticker that goes on your windshield stating that you have Mexico's permission to drive in their country. There we learned that you cannot enter Sonora with a vehicle with a title that classifies your Ford E350 van as a 'bus'. No matter what. It does not matter that the van parked right next to it (Dannan's) is also a white Ford E350 van who's title classifies it as a 'sport van'. That is moot. All that matters is what the title says. No hay paso. After a failed bribe to the customs official I called the Utah DMV to see if they could help me out and send me over a different title that says 'sport van'. They could not or would not. They did recommend however that I could drive back to Salt Lake City for a special inspection to determine in my van was indeed not a bus. Amazing. Dannan couldn't get through either. Turns out that you are not allowed to enter Mexico with two vehicles registered to your name at the same time no matter what. We were stuck at Kilometer 21.
Again we prayed for help and then an idea occurred to me; what if we just drove through the checkpoint? I did not see anyone with machine guns to shoot us, or even that the customs officials looked very closely at your road pass. I saw folks slowing down to about 5mph and wave their pass at the guard and keep going. I figured that at most they would send a police car after us and send us back to the USA. There was another gringo standing there who we got to talking to. He'd been througth the shakedown at Kilometer 21 for years coming and going from Mexico. We bounced the idea off of him and he said,”Man, I have thought so many times of doing that exact same thing. Just go man. Time is 'a wasting, and your families are counting on you being there in Costa Rica before the 29th.” The three of us drew off to one side bowed our heads and asked the Lord what he thought. We each felt a peaceful but power feeling come over us that we should just cross.
Without further aduea I lead out. As I approached the crossing I actually got pulled over. The agent didn't for my road pass, but instead wanted to know what I was carrying. I offered to show him and started to get out of the van, but he just waved me through. Dannan and David also crossed without incident. Again God showed us the way when everything said there was no way.
From there we made good time through the state of Sonora. Everything was rosy until just outside of Hermacillo where we pulled over to fill up. Once again my van wouldn't start. Unbelievable. We tried everything all over again, but it was in vain. Finally we parked the van and trailer behind the gas station and headed into Hermacillo. I found another Ford dealership and hired a tow truck to bring it in. More money to fix a problem that two mechanic shops have sworn up and down they have taken care of. For a van that worked perfectly for the 3 months prior to this trip it sure was costing me a lot of money. The problem was obviously electrical and had nothing to do with the weight it was towing. Why now?
Contact information:
Jacob and Rachael's cell phone: Country code: 506-8987-6261
Dannan and Melanie's cell phone: Country code: 506-8808-8761
Jacob's Skype number: jacob.meyers2
You can also stay in touch with us via facebook.com
Physical Address
Do not mail anything to this address.
500 meters south west of the plaza Pedernal, Nicoya Costa Rica
500 metros suroeste de la plaza Pedernal, Nicoya Costa Rica
Mailing Address
We are working on this one. There are several private services that are more dependable than the Costarican mail system. We are shopping around for a good one.
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