We worked through the night building up the road to get across, consuming beers and tequila. We finally made it, with the above situation and another truck sliding off laterally into a ditch. In El Golfo, we camped for the night after an extended party, and here is Chick waking up.

Somebody splashed him with paint while he slept. Not that Chick would have done anything to deserve a bit of fun in those days; and certainly I didn't have anything to do with it such that I might be there when he staggered out to take a picture....

Here are some of us "swim-wallowing" across the slough, having a ball. Such a thing will never be enjoyed by us again most likely. Too bad!

Lee refused to go in. And him being the smallest, but the quickest, made it quite difficult for even four or five of us to help him to enjoy this discovery.

Here is Chick in the high but final tackle of Lee, with Ken, Larry, Pat and Mousey shaken off in the mud. Damn Lee was tough.

In February, 1974, a bunch of us decided to drive down to El Gulfo de Santa Clara, a clamming port in Sonora, at the top of the Sea of Cortez. There had been a hurricane the night before, but we didn't give it a thought. Oops! Where the Colorado River goes into the sea, the town was a wash-out. Here is the road with one of our cars in it.

The next day we found something that was eminently delightful. The runoff from the hurricane had created a sand-bog like thin quicksand. You could safely swim in it, so we did. It was cleansing, relaxing, and very much fun.

Even Mousey, who was seven months pregnant at the time, went in and loved it.

Here are Larry and Chick.