The Story of Chewie Part Three
Crossing The Border with his gringo sidekicks and Meztiso compais

I began this rock climber saga on the dirt road heading into El Gran Trono Blanco, the Baja, California, big wall, a trip I took with my closest friends many years ago. We did a grade V but needed the help of a local — Chewie — to both get us to the Great White Throne, and then up the route (Chewbacca is a fine alpinist). Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique comes to mind thinking about this dome, our adventures there, and then our journey north across La Linea. Five movements, five chapters in this long, hearty, musical drama.

We, Dan and I plus Joe, also our Wookiee friend, were the four amigos. At our campfire after our big wall ascent, Chewie explained he would be guiding a group of compensinos across the U.S. / Mexican Border into Estados Unidos in a few days. He wanted us to go with him, to experience this right of passage. Since our truck was Joe's, he would be our mule and pick us up on the American side at a predetermined locale only he and Chewie knew. Part two of this tall tale was the beginning of our expedition north. We were now human javelinas.

On our walk to el norte we often thought about Joe and his adventures. I will try to explain below both our travelogues with a sense of humor yet seriousness. For our south-of-the-border friends this trek is no joke, and dangerous as climbing a first ascent on, well, El Gran Tron Blanca, with exfoliation and rockfall, rattlesnakes at our feet, and the federales on our felonious heels. When we began our trek, Chewie reminded us, "There are no clocks in the desert, only the sun and the moon and the zodiac." Times and days will blend into a fuzzy time line. Only Joe and his party have any sense of chronology and that was a decade or so ago! Hard to recollect the flow of a week. I'll try.

We left Joe on the dirt road heading to El Gran, at the fork in the road. With a wink and a nod he was down el paseo in a cloud of brick red and dirty yellow dust. La Rumorosa gas and fajita stop off Baja Hwy. 2 would be his next stop. Where'd he go?

Joe: "I backtracked to Hwy. 2 and La Rumorosa, fueled up, ate a burrito and washed it down with Tecate beer."

(Joe) "In drove a mini van and out poured three lovely gals who were to my climbers spirit kindred. We hooked up immediately. Little Susan with dark hair, hands about as big as spider monkey paws and a gaze that looked deep into your soul; Laury with Hispanic features, tall and skinny; and Cj (Cj is the way she would write her initials, this was her handle (Name? I never found out). Cj seemed to be the ramrod of this outfit but all three were like sisters who loved each other. They were down to explore the dome. I offered them some beer and chips and told them briefly of my trip and my pals, our separation and reason why, my layover for a few days, and how difficult the road is to find the way through. We all shared a few more cervezas and my bladder could hold no more filtered pilsner. I went off to the banyo. Returning they invited me to guide them in. How could I turn this deal down?"