The Sunday ride

Church in a town called Huecorio.

WHEN I WAS a kid, I often spent summers with my maternal grandmother in rural, southwest Georgia.

We had a routine on Sundays. After lunch, the two of us would get into the old Ford with me driving. I may not even have had a license at that time. I was 14 or 15.

We’d head down the red-clay road about half a mile to her sister’s place. We called her Bubba. Bubba would get into the backseat with her cigarettes and Coca-Cola, and off I would drive. Bubba likely did not weigh more then 85 pounds. She rarely ate, but she loved cigarettes and Coca-Cola.

The car was straight-stick. It had no air-conditioner, so we all had the windows open for the hot summer air. Nobody ever felt uncomfortable. We weren’t spoiled.

We’d travel through red-clay roads for miles before heading home, dropping off Bubba at her place, and parking the Ford in the wooden garage that leaned a bit. It had gray tarpaper on the exterior with a fake brick façade.

At times, my child bride and I take Sunday drives through the Mexican countryside. Instead of an old Ford, we use a 2009 Honda CR-V, a far nicer ride. It sports automatic transmission with air-conditioning and cruise control.

We are spoiled.

We did that yesterday, and I took some photos.

This house rests alone in the woods near our large lake. It’s been abandoned since I moved here almost 19 years ago. It’s probably haunted.
Departing the grounds of the church in Huecorio.
Inside another church. This one is in Santa Fe de la Laguna.
The owner of this place is one fortunate S.O.B.
The entrance to the church in Santa Fe de la Laguna.

The final town we visited was Tzintzuntzan. Can you pronounce that? I did not take any photos, and we didn’t visit any churches. We did buy blue-corn gorditas on the street. We ate them while sitting on plastic stools on the sidewalk.

Then we came home.

18 thoughts on “The Sunday ride

  1. I love Sunday or even Tuesday drives! I remember Sunday and evening drives with my aunt and uncle in Northern Arizona. We’d see herds of antelopes, elks, shy deer and listen to the cacophony of birds. Thanks for bringing back a sweet memory.


    1. Peggy: Sounds like your Arizona drives were far better than our Georgia ones. We spotted nary an antelope or elk. Now that would have been fun. We did see cows, however.

      Looks like WP is back to putting your comments in moderation. Jeez.


  2. Felipe: The recreational drive is something I used to enjoy, and am starting to again. When I was doing my penance as a driving instructor, driving for fun was not fun.


    1. Kris: Get back into the saddle! Driving for fun can be fun. Depends on where you live, of course. When we go on Sunday drives, we have a few good options. The option yesterday, one of the better ones, was to circle our large lake, which takes about 45 minutes if you don’t stop anywhere. I wish I had taken a photo of the burros.


      1. Felipe: I have done that route quite a few times. I am a market hound, and used to go to Quiroga as well as out to the town where I bought our dishes, and should have gotten one of the calaveras (correct me if I’m wrong). The fact that each town in the vicinity has a different craft specialty makes cruising around lots of fun.


  3. Mexico is such a fascinating place that you don’t have to go far to find interesting buildings, things, and people to look at. I was just this morning telling a friend how interesting walks in CDMX were. Totally unlike the boring suburban sprawl here, though we do have (or at least had) some nice walks in the countryside. Unfortunately, the area where a lot of them are (along the Sacramento River) got burned to a crisp this summer.

    I suppose I ought to go out and take some gloomy shots of burned forests. Ugh…


    Kim G
    Redding, CA
    Where the endless setbacks just keep piling up.


  4. We had a similar Sunday afternoon routine when I was a kid. If we didn’t make a stop at granny’s we just rode around. I never understood it, and as I recall, I never much liked it — just meandering aimlessly through neighborhoods in our small town.

    When I was about 12, I was allowed to drive the woods roads in a nearby National Forest. My interest in the Sunday afternoon drive improved considerably then.


    1. Kim: Had nary a clue what that word means, so I turned to my trusty, online translator which tells me it means nickname. The word for nickname that I always use is apodo. Still got no clue what you mean. This inquiring mind wants to know.


      1. Hola Felipe,

        The translation of “gentilicio,” is demonym, not that that’s particularly enlightening as it’s a much more commonly used term in Mexico than NOB. What it means is the name given generically to someone from a given place. So the “gentilicio” for someone from Guadalajara, for example, is “Tapatío.” Or someone from Guatemala is Guatemalteco.

        So what do you call the folks from Tzintzuntzan?

        By the way, did you ask your wife? I’d be curious if she at least knew the term “gentilicio.” My Mexican ex taught me the word and used it often enough to convince me that it was pretty run-of-the-mill SOB.


        Kim G
        Redding, CA
        Where we eagerly await your answer.


        1. Kim: I asked, and yes, she knows “gentilico,” but she doesn’t know the gentilicio of folks who live in Tzintzuntzan, which is a tongue-twister of a town name in the first place. Gentilicio, demonym? Jeez, man, are you taking writing lessons from Steve Cotton?


          1. Ha,ha … no, Steve’s taking lessons from me. 😉 (He just doesn’t know it, ha,ha.)

            I was hoping someone knew the gentilicio for someone from Tzintzuntzan precisely because it’d be a (hopefully amusing) mouthful.

            Could it be Tzintzuntzanense? Tzintzuntzanero? Tzintzuntzano? Maybe the next time you’re there, you can ask someone. Inquiring minds want to know. Saludos.


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