Only in Mexico

Tijuana is a dirty, dingy, crowded, lively little town. Like all major border crossings, in every corner of the world, Tijuana is packed with tourists, travelers, crooks, drug dealers, pick pockets, prostitutes, and a large dose of Federal police. Of course there are bars and dance halls on every street and particular to Tijuana more than 50 pharmacies selling counterfeit and cut rate medications to unsuspecting visitors looking for a bargain in the wrong commodity.I arrived here by trolley from San Diego. Tomorrow my eldest daughter, Vanessa, will be married in La Jolla. The wedding party is involved in all of the last minute preparations. I am not needed so I prepare to log in my first miles of a very long race walks from Tijuana to San Francisco. After the wedding and now newly retired after 34 years of nonstop, high stress,executive life, I will do nothing but walk for a few weeks until I reach my second daughter Melissa who lives within an arms throw of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I leave Tijuana walking up a long winding concrete foot bridge toward the entry point of the United States. The lines at customs are long, mostly young people, of all nationalities awaiting their opportunity to enter America. Seeing sunlight I push my way through the huge exit doors dodging taxi cabs, buses, souvenir vendors and beggars. Rhythmically I pump my arms through the first steps of a 600 mile race walk to San Francisco.

Calif At Dawn

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