On Saturday, I drove out to Border Field State Park for a story I was working on. The gate to the park was closed because part of the road was flooded, so I had to walk about a mile in. I took some pics, talked to some people, then snagged a ride with some television reporters from Univision. They were cruising a Prius Hybrid. I told them how impressed I was that they had braved fording the flooded road in their nice little car. One of the reporters laughed at me. “What do you mean,” he said. “Anyone can make it through. It’s just a little puddle.”
Seconds later, the car lurched to a stop and plunged down into a huge sinkhole in the middle of the “little puddle.” We were stuck in about two feet of water, only, it wasn’t just water. I had talked to an environmentalist the day before who said the water was a mixture of runoff and raw sewage from Tijuana (one of many horible environmental effects of the crappy construction of the border fence, but that’s a whole different story). I thought about it, then went ahead and kicked it in the back seat while the two men did their best to pull us out of the rut. It didn’t work, and at one point they had me get behind the wheel. I accidentally pressed the gas peddle too hard and water (or sewage, but I didn’t have the heart to tell the guys who were already knee deep in shit) flew up and into their faces. I felt bad, but what could I do? Anyway, after about 15 minutes of failed attempts I took off my shoes, waded through the poo and walked back to my car so I could make it back to Tijuana in time to get some photos of the other side of the fence (again, for the story I was working on). A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, ya know? Anyway, a few more adventures like this and I think you could say I’m as down as April O’Neil.