Big Sierra Takes Mexico

Taxi! Taxi! Taxi! Amiga, Taxi?!

I grabbed my friend’s hand as we navigated through the crowd of taxi drivers and advertisers looking to extort those who just landed for top dollar, regardless of the distance. It was hot, and although I urged him to change into shorts before leaving the airport, Kris said he would be fine. in pants. He quickly regretted that decision as we walked across the freeway in the hot Mexican sun to hail a much cheaper ride home.

“Nosotros vamos a La Cruz de Huanacaxtle,” I said to the taxi driver. Kris looked at me bewildered as I haggled the price down (in Spanish) from 900 pesos. “No, seiscientos,” was my final offer, and luckily the cab driver accepted. “You speak Spanish?” he asked as we got into the cab. I laughed, knowing my Spanish is still very limited, but living here in Mexico you learn what you need to get from place to place and order food – plus our friends are fantastic teachers. As we drove through Puerto Vallarta and towards the town we call home, I watched my dear friends eyes try to absorb his first moments in a new country—his first international experience ever. It was an honor to be the reason for his first passport stamp after a whole year of Chris and I urging him to visit. “This is new,” he said, noticing my Lusty tattoo. I smiled, knowing it would all make sense to him soon.

Kris is our longtime friend who grew up in the Shaver Lake area with Chris, and often claims that he was my “first friend” on the mountain – which may or may not be true. We spent over a decade being “seasonal” friends, limiting our hangouts to winter skiing and snowboarding. However, I finally convinced him to become a year-round pal, hanging out with us long after the snow melts. He has many excellent qualities making him a fantastic best friend, plus he is an extremely talented musician who goes by the stage name Big Sierra. Check him out on Spotify!

Thirty minutes later, we were back in La Cruz, where Kris settled aboard Avocet in the quarter berth and gave Cleo all the love she demanded. Chris was unfortunately held up at the dentist for his third visit to fix a pesky issue with his crown, so with time to kill, Kris took a nap to make up for his lost hours of sleep (he flew out of LAX at 2:00 am) while I typed away on my laptop. Eventually I ran out of things to write about and got bored so I woke him up and we headed to Lusty on Land to kick off the festivities. It was the final night of the town celebration and his first taste of Mexico. After all, he can sleep when he’s dead! (Sorry, Kris, you’re a very good sport).

Karen met us at the bar where we popped open a new bottle of Centenario Reposado. Pa’ arriba, pa’ abajo, pa’ centro, pa’ dentro! One shot down, a few more to go. Soon Chris joined us, taking two shots of his own to help numb the pain of his tooth. Before we knew it, Kris was handed the mic and was singing to the masses (it was just Chris, Max, Karen, and I). Our friends had heard me talk up what a talented musician Kris was, so it was only a matter of time before my claims were put to the test. Luckily, he is an entertainer through and through and didn’t disappoint even after a few rounds of tequila. Although we were enjoying watching the town prepare for the final festivities, we decided it was time to retreat to Casa Lusty for pool time which was a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

“Marissa, I am exhausted,” Kris pleaded. The afternoon had melted into evening and the town was coming alive with vendors and visitors that were preparing for the fireworks and music that would come later that night. Kris did his best to rally at the bar, befriending our pal Andres who shared his excitement with him and kept him up and involved for a while longer. After an hour or two of quietly begging me to let him go nap, I finally let him loose with the agreement that I would wake him up when it was time for fireworks—there was no way I was letting him miss that! In his absence, the rest of our group acquired light-up bunny ear hats, bubble guns, and the childlike energy to bounce around Lusty on Land singing karaoke, dancing, and getting wild with our friends—affectionately known as the leftovers.

I came up with the term the left overs to address those who remained in La Cruz. With most of our gang across the Pacific and in the Sea of Cortez, we wore our “last ones standing” title as a badge of honor. When would we leave? No one really knew.

Soon the castillo was getting ready to be ignited and shoot off into the sky, so I ran back to Avocet where I found Kris sound asleep with Cleo tucked under his chin. It was precious, even though he is allergic to cats, but luckily he didn’t seem to mind. After a few minutes of poking and prodding, he reluctantly got up and let me drag him back to the party. I even let him wear my floppy bunny hat to get in the spirit… but as we watched the fireworks go off, I turned to my left and saw the boy looking like a zombie. He quickly retreated back to Avocet to go back to sleep as soon as it was over. Little did he know, he would pay the ultimate price for failing to rally in Lusty Land – the Max Tax. (but we can’t write about Max’s relentless heckling here. just trust me when I say you do not want to be the target.)

Beach, Birria, Bienestar

A long night of partying followed by birria tacos was the tradition, and Kris was along for the ride, getting to experience all the things we had been sharing with him firsthand, including our incredible friends Max and Karen, who lived up to the hype. The birria didn’t disappoint, and afterward, we took our scheduled walk on the beach. The sound of Kris’s film camera could be heard from behind us as we walked. He and I share a love for film and have become photo buddies over the past few years, experimenting with old stock film, techniques, and looking for unique shots to snap and wait patiently to develop. He was also my film mule who brought me a couple of new rolls of Kodak Gold and would be taking three-shot rolls back to his local camera shop in San Luis Obispo to process.

The rest of the day was mellow, again spent at Casa Lusty, where we soaked up some pool time. Although I had planned on taking my artist friend to Puerto Vallarta to show him the music and art scene, my plans were hijacked by Max and Karen, which honestly was for the better.

Always Say Yes

Last year I learned that if Max texts you “are you in or are you out?” with zero context, you should always say you are in because that is how the best memories are made. Remember our impromptu trip to San Blas? Chris was having a long morning of boat projects while I took Kris to get Jugo Verde (my favorite) then to the beach where we people-watched. That’s when Max called and told me to pack a bag.

“What do you mean? We are going to PV. Having a chill day!” I tried to (stupidly) plead. He wasn’t taking no for an answer (thank goodness), so we returned to Avocet, and packed our bags. Soon we were picked up by Max and Karen, who were driving Groovy, our pals Nixie and Cameron’s sweet camper van. But where were we going? To a little magical place that always warms my soul: Chacala.

After an hour or so, we made it to Chacala where we could see SV Ella and SV Saoirse—AKA our friends Nixie, Cameron, and Alex, who had escaped the clutches of Banderas Bay a week prior. We found the campsite which was right on the beach, then made our way over to the beachside bar where we found our friends. Chris and Kris led the way with me trailing behind, which was reminiscent of our teenage years. But instead of being on snow and sliding down a mountain, we were thousands of miles south of the border in the tropics. Oh, how glad I am that we are no longer “seasonal” friends.

After a whole day of lounging on the beach, we returned to the campsite for a night full of music, laughing, and memory-making. Chris and Kris played guitar inside the van, Big Sierra’s version of Cyclone (my favorite), while I taught Karen and Alex how to hula hoop. Cameron and Max hung out in the lawn chairs while Nixie walked around to absorb the nature magic, her positive energy radiating off of her as she wandered around the beach. I paused to look at this beautiful scene we created: good vibes all around, music, and the most incredible setting. When the sun finally set Nixie, Kris, and I took to the water, but I stayed in the shallows (still rightfully afraid of stingrays) watching my friends swim in the bioluminescence. I didn’t take as many photos or videos as usual, but that’s because I was truly living in the moment with my favorite humans. This is what my soul was craving, pulling my foot out of the depression pit that it had been standing in.

As the sun kissed us goodnight and the moon took her place, our boat friends returned home while we went through the motions of setting up the van for sleep. I was thrilled to claim the van-top tent that felt like a crow’s nest with an amazing view of the ocean. However, nighttime Marissa did not factor in how hot and sweaty daytime Marissa would be, which resulted in waking up in a panic trying to escape for fresh air. In the new morning light, our crew wandered up the road of Chacala up to a hotel room that we rented to use the showers so we could wash the essence of dirty hippy off of us.

Fresh and clean, we walked to our favorite breakfast spot, Lalaxtli, where I got my soul-saving Jugo Verde (remember when?) and huevos benedictinos. We sat around a large Huanacaxtle slab table enjoying each other’s company and talking about “plans” before hugging and going our separate ways. Kris had one final day in Mexico before he returned to real life, and Max and Karen had to return to the bar in preparation for the band appreciation night. Although we were riding the high of this new core memory, the looming sadness of separation lingered… but my friends would be damned before letting me slip into the “big sad” once again and helped keep me in a good headspace. I love them all so much.

Bye, Bye Big Sierra

And just like that, Kris’s five-day Mexican adventure was over. From the wild town party to a surprise camping trip, we did our best to make his very first international experience a good one and I think we set the bar pretty darn high. After one last morning together, we drove the Groovy van to the airport where we kicked the boy out and watched him walk through the airport doors. I sincerely hope he comes back to visit next season, and maybe even brings his band to play at Lusty on Land to check off his first international show. But for now, that was a wrap on Kris’s visit, and it was time to focus on our next adventure: a half-month-long journey into the heart of Mexico with Max and Karen.

Thanks for being here, dear reader. I appreciate you!

Sincerely yours,

Marissa (and Chris and Cleo)