Sorry to be catching up just now campers, but these last couple of strips haven’t exactly inspired me…

Judging by the scale, and applying some perspective, it looks like Raul has cleared a 10-foot span on his way to tracking down the Brats and the Mule…  Trackers tracking trackers…

Meanwhile, back a the dig site…

Saved your life?  Really?  How?  By drooling and snoring?

But clearly Mark’s Spidey-sense is tingling… He knows something is not quite right!  Not to mention the Lizardy-thing in the foreground stealing dinosaur sized eggs!

“Taking it to the rooftops” seemed a bit iffy, but Rusty and Mara, with their tell-tale silhouettes, are easily spotted in what appears to be a deserted section of the city…  I guess everyone has emigrated  north…

One thing that is interesting is the discipline that this strip maintains- despite the occurrence of Holidays and such- never a mention of special days like Thanksgiving or other opportunities to mark the calendar.  I suppose partly because there’s a fear that we’d lose the thread of the “story” unfolding in super slo-mo right before our eyes.  Really?  Not.

On this day, though, Thanksgiving 2018, I will take time to wish you all a very blessed day.  That I can sit here most mornings, free to to do pretty much whatever I want is a blessing in itself.  That I am still useful to society and have the opportunity to lead teams and help people live what might be their best lives brings me great joy.  I know that this Holiday is under fire as it pertains to its history and the story surrounding it…  And despite the valid points made in that realm, remember that as the earth grew more and more populated, and curiosities and desires drove behavior, we are probably more respectful and disciplined today that we were even a century ago.  We haven’t have a continent-sized attempt at a land-grab since WWII, and with the exception of the permanent war that we are promoting in the Middle East, we are pretty much at peace.  Let’s remember those that are not able to be together today, for that and other reasons.  But on that note, I am particularly thankful that this day will bring families together across the country, and to that point, I welcome my brother home for a visit that has occurred only infrequently over the past decades.  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

What th…?!

Sorry, but unless he had those stashed in his chaps, I have no idea where Raul found his six-shooters…  I am suddenly reminded of of another scene where nature got the better of a guy with access to a gun…  My favorite movie:  My Cousin Vinny…

As Rusty and Mara are fixating on the Mule, and trying to figure out how to get Rusty’s phone back (talk about ‘splaining…) they are pondering recent decisions and choices that have left them wandering aimlessly in Santa Poco, Mexico!

And yes, Raul has taken to the rooftops to employ his (apparent) x-ray vision to locate Rusty and Mara!

Where he searches hopelessly for answers about the life he is leading and the bad choices that have led him to this crucial juncture…

Only to be tormented by a Toucan… Is this someone’s spirit animal that has been following this ‘storyline’ all the way from the resort to the dig site and now into the city?  It would seem so…

With all that, we are once again reminded that James Allen’s forte is one of arteest, not storyteller…  again, where is this going??

Just look at the bugle-mouth in the first installment:

That has to be the most unflattering look on a human being, and I am sure we all make that face depending on what we are saying.  It’s funny that in today’s world, catching that is increasingly easy as cameras advance in their capabilities and there are literally thousands of pictures from which to choose…  But for James Allen to purposely draw this mug says what?  I honestly don’t know.

Why are we trusting Juanito the mule?  And I had forgotten that Rusty sacrificed his smart phone to the cause…  That only happened (probably) a month ago…

Oh, worry not your little head, Master Trail, Papa’s on his way and he’s being set up!!

Is that the blue of his hair clashes with the pink of his chamois cloth shirt?  The fact that he has to wear chamois cloth in the tropics?  The fact that it wasn’t his idea to clog up his life with children?

And why is Professor Carter being dragged into this?  These aren’t his children.  Where are Mara’s folks?  Seriously.

We see a glimpse of the singing bush from The Three Amigos movie in the lower right corner of the second panel.  <<yawn…>>

I will not be posting again until Friday… hang in there Campers, I am sure that so much will happen… (sarcasm intended…)

Suddenly Mark is all lathered up at the thought of his bastard step son being in some kind of danger…  Not to mention the fact that Mara’s parents are nowhere to be found… having trusted the Trails to keep her somehow safe…

And as Jose tries to explain himself/ lure Mark into the fray, he slips in a bit of spanish for good measure…  Ju no how keeeds are… they sleeeped away… Eeet’s a Leeetle Compleeecated, but I’ll Es-plane…

Wow… we have to go all the way back to the end of July before we find a daily featuring Mark…  I literally forgot what he looks like… that’s over three months!  The old measure, “Mean Time to Lost Forest” (the average time it took to play out an entire story arc) typically took less time than that!  And what is typical for today’s Trail, the sun doesn’t set on the characters… ever!

And would you refer to your “old Friend” as “Professor?”  Did “The Professor” on Gilligan’s Island have a name?

I guess he did… Although I would never have known that without the help of Das Google!

I guess I just don’t know all there is to know about gang/biker weaponry…

Are these the equivalent of Ninja throwing stars?  Does Raul plan to carve Rusty and Mara into little pieces?  It’s clear now (for the hot second) that Raul is no “friend” of Mark Trail… and that his facial hair and wardrobe choices are putting him into the “Bad Guy” bucket…

What an odd split-screen for the second and third panel…

More bad dialogue greets us this morning…

And why does Mark need to be drawn into this?  Because it’s his name on the strip?

Big “effing” Rats?  Is that what you are implying Raul??  Only this is a family strip?  And we have to watch our language?  Oh please, let’s get ON with this…

Not the mattresses?  I know, a vague and non-sequitur reference, but that’s what jumped to mind…  Sort of like all these random storylines in today’s Mark Trail…

Apparently Raul has x-ray vision… he can see through adobe walls…

Hard to know who’s the bad guy here… everyone seems mighty suspicious!

So as Rusty and Mara go through the wall (down the rabbit hole??) Raul is stumped.

But he takes on a special glee at the notion of luring Mark Trail into the picture…  Now remember, gang, we have been lumber through the daily strip for months now, but it’s only been an hour or two since the kids left the dig site with Joe/Jose…  I mean Mark and Cherry wouldn’t even have had time to, uhmmm, well, you know… OK, Ick.  Sorry.

Sometime the lack of continuity is simply irritating…

Yesterday we ended with a panel showing Raul with a shit-eating-grin, and today we start off with a panicked look, with Raul on the “phone” with “Jose” who, wonder of wonders, is awake:

Never mind (again) that the two communications platforms hail from different eras, that it’s quite unlikely that a cell phone can “talk” to a CB/Shortwave/HAM radio… And never mind that the center panel is plucked, pixel for pixel, stroke for stroke, from a previous strip (I think we call that <fair> re-use…) I am left to wonder again when the syndicate is going to yank the plug on this brain-dead future corpse of a “feature” strip.

Hole In the Wall Gang reference??

How convenient, though…  When in doubt, create another improbable plot twist, a la cave adventures (in the sonoran desert swimming through a blind underwater passage all the way to the Gulf of Mexico, or underneath a bank in a ramshackle, dilapidated western town in the badlands…) or exploding islands and sloop rigged yachts… I guess that’s prerogative of the scribe… the escape is only a pen stroke away.   So go ahead, kiddos, you’re safe as kittens…

In a city where is seems that all the stucco and mud coatings have seen better days, the wall that will trap them looks to be freshly skimmed and painted!

Mara, sometimes it’s the littlest of things… decisions we make that can turn the tide for or against us.  The day you decided to follow the hapless and feckless Rusty Trail into a Mexican alley is the day that you will live to rue…  If they survive this setback!!

Not to mention that cheesy grin in the second panel.  Would you trust this guy?   Oh Hell  no!

Somehow he knows about the dig site…

…but even that is not enough to win the trust of these two plucky tweens…  And off they go around another blind corner!

Raul, he of tiny hands and wandering right eye… is attempting to lure the children in with the oldest of ruses… “I am a friend of your Dad’s!”  OK, then who’s my Daddy?  How do you know him?

Good Lord, how much longer does this drag out?  Christmas?  That’s where my money is…

As Mara comes to her senses… as in, “Why the hell am I following this dimwitted boy?” Rusty tries to justify what was probably a bad move…

Enter Raul… Looks like a baddie, but wait, what?  He’s calling out to the kids like he’s trying to help them…  hmmmm….. what to do??  How about clicking your heels together and getting the heck out of there!

Better get caught up, here… With the dude on chopper in hot pursuit, making mincemeat of the patio furniture…

…our people are racing through the highways and byways of Santa Poco…

…until they make their most serious mistake of all…

…following Rusty’s lead!  Good luck with that.  Taking after his father, though, heading down blind alleyways in search of sanctuary.  We’ll be back in a while after this little chase scene resolves…

As we continue the slow crawl through the streets of Santa Poco…

…it would appear that Raul is in charge…

…it would also appear that Mara’s proportions are growing by the day… her blossoming bodice is becoming a downright distaction.  Rusty’s form, as he chimps along, looks more apelike than human, poised to have his knuckles drag at any moment…