Why Is the Pickup Truck Here?

What am I doing back here with the pickup truck in the first place? I need to review the bidding in order to explain that.

The truck is now fitted out with a new tool box and a decent spare tire.

Three years ago I drove into Mexico in the pickup with a little camper trailer behind it. The Mexican government gave me a temporary import permit for both the pickup and the camper trailer. Temporary means temporary. Sooner or later you have to bring those vehicles back out of the country. You can only sell a vehicle to a Mexican and nationalize it—that is, get a Mexican title for the Mexican who is buying it—if that vehicle is ten years old or more. Even then you have to go back to the border to do that. This is my probably incomplete understanding of all of this anyway.

My original intention was to take a grand tour of the country and come back out. Then I got stuck in San Miguel de Allende because of the appeal of the place to me. I lived there for fifteen months in the little camper trailer. Finally, I rented an apartment and took a shower. There the little camper sat then in storage, slowly deteriorating away. I needed to get that camper out of the country and get the temporary import permit for it canceled. I needed to do that before the camper deteriorated so much that it was no longer road worthy. Hence, the reason for this latest trip north with the pickup truck. The camper trailer is now sitting in my parents' barn.

I nearly waited too long. One of the tires on the camper disintegrated in the middle of nowhere in Mexico on my way to the border. Threw tread all over hell. Which is a story in itself because I had never before even peeked at the spare tire mounted on the back under a canvas cover. I had no idea if there was even a spare tire there. Luckily, there was. It was in good shape. It even had air in it.

So why do I not just fly back to Mexico now and leave the pickup truck here? Well, because, goddamnit, I need my pickup truck! And the poor people of Mexico need my pickup truck, too. The poor people of Mexico live in want of many things. One thing they live in want of is a ride. The poor people of Mexico love to ride in my pickup truck. In return I get to see Mexico from the bottom up.

And now Rick is going to help me drive the pickup truck back to Mexico. We leave tomorrow. Life could not be better.

Here Rick is working on the truck helping me get it ready to go. Rick likes a clean cab inside.