One weekend, I traveled to San Diego. I then traveled east along the border to Tecate. I had never heard of Tecate--a mini-mart, a shoe store, a rural post office, and a border crossing. Nobody was crossing. I walked over to the guard house. They explained that most of Tecate was on the Mexico side. Tecate was home for a major brewery. The border opened each morning to let the braseros to cross, remained open until the braseros returned, and then shut down for the night. I could cross if I was 18, had a picture ID, and proper tags on my car. It would be a good idea, if I crossed, to head for Tijuana or Mexicali, where the border was open 24 hours. I headed east, toward Mexicali. The narrow road traveled through mountains littered with 8- to 16-foot diameter rock spheres. I had to pee really bad. After a long time, a trading post appeared--Colonio Progesso. Outback was an old outhouse. Urine and feces ran out of it to a 12-foot diameter pool. I stood back another eight feet, aimed in the general direction, and let fly.
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