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Looking out my Backdoor: In my garden of earthly delights

Editor’s note: Due to an editorial error, this column did not run before Thanksgiving.

My world is circumscribed by the boundaries of the gringo part of the rancho. I walk the lanes.

This morning when I arrived at my turn-around spot out by the entrance to the highway, I stopped to marvel. I saw, heading toward Ahualulco, a man on a three-wheel motorcycle, a custom job, wearing a modified helmet to resemble something from WWI, you know, Snoopy and the Red Baron.

The bike itself was black with silver trim. The front end, like an alligator snout, and I’m not familiar with biker terms, but I’d ca...

 

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