Luis Ernest Romero and J.R. Emrick started Sand and Sea in 1991. Senor Romero owned the land and J.R. had the idea. A partnership was born.

Sand and Sea Rentals specializes in ATC's (all-terrain cycles) and will soon boast an oversized, tractor-pulled wagon for hayrides, perfect for cool nights on the beach. As is the case with many of us, J.R. had visited the port many times, each time regretting a little more his return to the States, each time moving closer to the decision to stay in Rocky Point. But to give up a house and business? J.R. says he's never looked back, even though his barbecue restaurant was thriving and he'd finally found his dream house, a nice place in the Rocky Mountains.

The name of J.R.'s restaurant, by the way, was (you'd better sit down) "The Best Little Boar House in Colorado." How's that for a memorable title to go on the ol' corporate papers? J.R. says he made bumper stickers with the name on it to give to his customers. Paul Harvey heard about it and mentioned the sticker at least twice on his radio program. Talk about free advertising. . .

Before opening Sand and Sea, J.R. was a union steward in Kansas City, where he'd frequented the many excellent barbecue establishments in his off-hours, finding ways to talk himself into the kitchens. There, he learned how to concoct the mouthwatering dishes he and Vicki serve at Sand and Sea. Did I mention that in addition to renting ATC's J.R. and Vicki also cook and serve the best barbecue this side of KC? Their restaurant and bar is a taste of home, complete with a well-stocked jukebox featuring country western, R&B and some nice rock. The restaurant has indoor and outdoor seating and can be opened up or closed up depending on the weather. Personally, I'm looking forward to the first nippy day. I want to sit in the varnished-pine bar listening to Garth Brooks and inhaling a platter of mesquite-smoked ribs, ham, turkey, chicken, or whatever has come out of the smoker that morning.

The smoker, by the way, is a story in itself. It started out in New Orleans, where J.R. smoked shrimp by the millions. It's the size of a small room, but it's portable, and J.R. took it to every kind of event, where the sweet, spicy smoke drew crowds of hungry customers. Later, he took it to Kansas City, Missouri, then to Parachute, Colorado. Now, it sits comfortably in a sheltered area behind the restaurant, filling the air with the promise of good eating, a promise that a plate of R.J.'s barbecue fulfills completely. Selfishly, I hope the smoker stays put. Puerto Penasco isn't a bad place for an experienced smoker to be and I want to eat lots more barbecue at Sand and Sea.

Vicki too, brings an impressive background of people and working experience to Puerto Penasco. She owned and operated a restaurant, and, in addition, has operated heavy machinery in Arizona copper mines and been an unabashed computer hacker on the mainframe at the U. of A. Today, she is an avid fan of her own ATC's. It it any wonder these two found each other? I'm just glad I found Sand and Sea.

And J.R. and Vicki are glad they found Chris Romero. Chris, they say, is the glue that holds Sand and Sea together. He is a twenty-two year old native Puerto Penascan who attended college in the U.S. His English is flawless Standard American and his understanding of things mechanical, J.R. and Vicki assure me, is gifted. This is quite a compliment, coming from two folks who know their way around any kind of equipment, heavy or light. J.R. and Vicki both speak Spanish, but there are times when having a native on your team is worth its weight in gold, and they have found a nugget in Chris. Chris is obviously as pleased with J.R. and Vicki as they are with him, and it was a pleasure to be a part of the group that afternoon.

But beware: as I wrote at the beginning of this article, the fun at Sand and Sea is contagious. . .

I'd already spent a terrific afternoon snooping around the place, absorbing the great atmosphere, inhaling the food and thoroughly digging just sitting under the palapa with J.R. and Vicki and Chris. I was content. Then Vicki decided it was time I had my first ATC ride. Yikes, I thought. I demurred, drowsy and full of barbecue and suddenly feeling middled-aged and stodgy, until I realized by the glint in Vicki's eye that I didn't have a chance.

I suddenly understood how this small, attractive blonde could have handled heavy machinery in copper mines.

Feeling sheepish, I followed Vicki to the ATC's and took in a one-minute lecture on operation and safety. To my surprise, one minute was ample, because these are the simplest, safest and most comfortable vehicles you can imagine. They're completely automatic. One lever is the gas, another the brakes, and a third puts you in Forward, Neutral or Reverse. The machines are large, stable, durable and built for safety and comfort. And about operating them in traffic: can you drive a car? You can drive one of these. The rules are the same.

But don't feel disappointed. These ATC's are powerful and feisty. Just because they're comfortable and easy to operate doesn't mean they're wimpy. They're not.

I followed Vicki out into traffic, instantly enjoying myself. We buzzed up the street and -- suddenly -- over a sand dune and onto what used to be the beach, before the Plaza Las Glorias was constructed. The dune looked rough and steep (maybe your first one always does), but I felt safe in the vehicle and the ascent was exhilarating. We went up and around and down again and then back to the shop and I wanted more. Lots more. Everything Vicki had promised about the comfort and excitement of riding one of Sand and Sea's ATC's was true. No wonder she had had a glint in her eye: she and J.R. and Chris have seen hundreds of people like me, people who panic a little at the idea of trying something new and then -- in the space of a minute -- realize what they've been missing, and these three have the supreme pleasure of pointing the way.