...when cops with machine guns stop to change your tire.
 
It started out with a sunrise walk on the beach and ended with a sunset walk on another beach 200 miles south.  
 
It was in between where we had another of our adventures with police and their machine guns. Heading out onto the tollway from our beachside campground, we heard a thud....thud....intermittent but bothering. 
 
Turns out we had a flat tire--inside dual. We pulled over to the side--thankfully there was a shoulder--and weren't there 3 minutes before a police car stopped. Two officers totting automatic rifles sauntered up to us to see what was going on and when they found out, off they went to find someone to change our tire.
 
Within 10 minutes they were back with the mechanic who jacked us up, took off both tires, replaced the flat and put it all back together-- with the officers' help. Yes, they actually got their hands dirty helping with our tire project. Well, one helped--the other two stood around "guarding" us. Not a soul would have bothered these gringos. 
 
Altogether it was off and on that. quick.
 
I joked with them about my poor Spanish and their awful English and we were all laughing and having a great time. We brought out snacks and gave them wipes for their dirty hands and the bill? $4.50 US. And this for the mechanic to come out and work on the side of the highway.
As they were leaving I gave the cops each a couple bucks and told them it was for lunch. They were so surprised! Thank you! they said.
 
We've never ever had such a pleasant experience with a flat tire before. 
 
A few miles later Bob (tall Bob, our friend from Michigan) found us a shop to repair the shot tire, so that added another $7.50 to our total. He did a really good job Bob said, too---having had a motorcycle shop for 25 years and being a mechanic himself, he was able to watch the guy and tell he knew what he was doing and had the equipment to do it well. 
 
What caused the rupture? There was a slice about a half inch long cut probably by one of the 3,000 chuckholes we'd hit. I KNOW we avoided a number of them, but there's no missing them all.
 
We discovered through all this that our "new" tires the lady we bought it from put on, were not new at all. They're 2009. Evidently they sold her tires that had been on the shelf a few years, because we saw the receipt--she really did buy them in 2012. The things you learn. 

 Anyway, chuckholes make us a little more nervous now, knowing our tires aren't in the pristine shape we thought they were.
 
Put all back together now, we drove south as far as Mazatlan and a RV park called Tres Amigos on Stone Island. We're in the middle of nowhere only a short ferry ride from old town Mazatlan where we'll go tomorrow.
 
The dirt road in was treacherous. Crappy-bad. It took an hour to go 8 miles and nearly shook this poor motorhome to bits. I try not to think of the tires. right.
 
But the sight when we got here: Right on the beach, the sunsets are incredible, but they tell us tonight's was sub-par. Maybe, but still a beautiful sight.