So I made it into Mexico Mon. afternoon. Wow. The original plan was to cross over to make it official and then head back over to the U.S. side to wait for my friend Nevada to show up so we could take a cab into Mexico. Problems. I made it across through the main road with all of the cars but didn't see a safe road to ride on and couldn't find the way to the other side to come back through. This is where it got interesting. I tried to approach a customs officer to get directions and she immediately says "no habla english". Won't even get make a move to send me in the right direction. And how do you get a job as a customs officer w/o speaking English? I don't buy that one at all. Then I'm trying to get another officers attention, and he sees me but refuses to acknowledge me. WTF? I'm obviously trying to find a way around. So I say "fuck it" and decide to ride back the way I came. I knew that it was a bad idea but I was getting frustrated. So I start riding and all of a sudden this international alarm goes off like I'm sprinting toward the President with a curling iron and wearing a hospital gown, or, like I'm trying to cross the border the wrong way. What a sound. So I turn around and head back to face the authorities but again no one will give me the time of day. Weird. So finally Nevada came around and we spent the next three hours haggling and being hassled. Anybody want a chicklet?