This past summer I took another trip down to Baja. Wow! You know everytime I go I get a new impression of the peninsula. The trip went as scheduled with the typical minor setbacks. Robert, Kenny, Andy R., Tom (Andys son), Andrew (Roberts son) and yours truly made up the crew on this trip. We had two Ford F-150's one with four wheel drive and one with two by four (limited slip diferential). One with a radical Rancho suspension system and one with stock Ford 4X suspension. One with a CB unit and one without. Hopefully next year we can both have the CB's working in our favor.
The following is a short summary of what happens in the day and a half of a Baja trip:
We headed out of San Diego at approximately 5:30 A.M.P.D.T. Cruised onto the toll roads out of the more developed areas of Northern Baja. Took a pit stop at the San Miguel toll station (a relatively safe and clean restroom there).
Trucking on, we picked up a dominos set for the boys in San Quintin, some chicle (chewing gum) for the road and some pan dulce (Mexican sweet bread). Little things like having gasoline available when you make a scheduled gas stop are really very meaningful. We hit El Rosario and had to wait almost an hour for the power to come back on before the pumps would work. We were making good time so it wasn't a big deal. Little things like that can work on you if you let them.
So we headed out again for our next scheduled stop in Catavina. Several kilometers (point six (.6) kilometers equals one mile) outside El Rosario, we happened upon a man walking in the low rolling and hilly desert. He was walking in the desert and all he had was a plastic jug and a bedroll. He waved the empty water jug as we were passing and of course I took this as a sign, the man needed water. There is always time to stop and give another human being the needed things. So I asked Kenny to grab some of that yuppie water (water you actually buy in a store) and we handed him a bottle out the side as we slowly passed.
Further along the road (at Los Tres Enriques I think?), we observed a man and his family. Two young kids and wife sitting by a disabled vehicle. Since Kenny has the master's degree in Spanish we let him do the talking. Funny -the tallest blondest guy gets the translation duty. Anyway it seems this guy had a flat, changed the tire and had found the spare flat. So he needed air. Well we keep an air can and electric pump handy just for inflating/deflating tires and dealing with sandy areas of the trek. So we inflated the guys tire gave them some foo-foo water (see translation for yuppie water) and headed out again. You never know how long someone might sit in the desert before getting any help -and that's on the good roads! You would want someone to help you wouldn't you?
In Catavina which is about halfway to our destination we stopped to get some frozen Snickers and 3 Muskeeteers bars at the La Pinta Hotel. (It also gives us a chance to stretch the legs and make another pit stop as there are clean restrooms there). Here we are in the middle of the first part of the Sonoran Desert part and I run into one my colleagues from school. In the middle of nowhere really. Anyway we exchanged notes on the FoMoCo's (Ford Motor Company Trucks) and the road. Seems he was heading to Abreojos -a shorter journey than our scheduled trip. He (John M.) was going for the fish. The waves are probably pretty good there but there are some minor drawbacks to road there. I didn't mention that the water is usually colder too.
The rest of the journey was uneventful except for the Federale (Mexican Army Regulars) checkpoints on the way down. We pulled into Guerrero Negro about 5 P.M.(6 P.M. Mountain time for G.N.). This after paying some mordida (payola, payoff, bribe) about 200 pesos which equals about 20 bucks to the local Migracione (Immigration Officer). Seems Kenny forgot his passport and none of the parties in the other vehicle had secured a visa. It wouldn't have mattered because the visas are not needed anymore. No. Now you will need to secure your "tourist document" at the nearest BanaMex and pay the 150 pesos to continue on your journey to Baja Sur. Hence the mordida.(We didn't have to pay until we got back.) So take a hint and buy a tourist document and insurance before you go.
Robert was hell bent for San Ignacio. We all settled in after a very uneventful day (depending on your point of view) at the fine R.V. Park and hotel in Guerrero Negro called the Malarrimo and had a fine fish dinner. I talked my amigo into staying there for the night. San Ignacio is only about 90 miles from Guerrero Negro and we could make that up in the morning. San Ignacio can get very hot at night and consequently almost impossible to sleep in whereas Guerrero Negro is very cool due to the fact the coastal winds are channeled there by the lay of the land -(look at a topographical map). Great food, a very nice staff, hot showers and flush toilets, level pool tables, a bar, make the Malarrimo a easier choice for rest stops on the way to Scorpion Bay.
Firing out of there in the morning and heading East by Southeast to San Ignacio with occasional pit stops -(15 years old or 50, bladders are the same size). About half way to San Ignacio we see the oddest thing - a shiny black and white, a cop, a federale de camiones, kind of like a CHP in California except we're in Baja remember? Fortunately we had just made a bladder stop and had slowed down considerably (we were doing about 70 before the stop).The speed limit on much of Mex 1 is 80 kilometers por hora (per hour) which is roughly 50 miles per hour. Nobody does it especially the Autobus de Muerto (killer bus). Anyway this was the only significant part of the road between G.N. and S.I. That and the killer buses trying to bail our boards from the racks.
In San Ignacio the gas station was fully operative. We topped off the tanks even though we had filled up in Guerrero Negro the night before (The desert doesn't have any gas stations). They had hielo en cubo (ice cube packages) and the little tienda (store) was open. We picked up some Gamesa cookies(they have the same ingredients as twinkies except without the cream filler). Real tasty! The boys, Andrew and Tom showed the adults, Andy and Kenny the finer points of hacky sack while we gassed up and filled the coolers with ice. We stopped outside of town by the desert rio (river) and did a "photo op" (a good place to take out the cameras and get some scenic shots) then drove into town plaza parked the F-150's and took a few shots of the Mision San Ignacio built in 1728 by the Jesuits (Spanish missionaries who traveled with the Conquistadores), it is the one of the finest churches in all of Baja. I personally had not been there since before my mom had passed on and said a few words for her. I also asked for a safe trip.
So gassed up and spiritually fulfilled we moved out to the 110 plus miles (all offroad from here) to Scorpion. We had covered approximately 500 miles at this point and it seemed like we'd been in Mexico for days already. It was still great fun. I'll fill in gaps on this part later (much later).
All I can say is stay home. Don't go to Baja. It's too dangerous. There's bad roads, no roads, lost roads, washouts, high sides, rattlers, eels, tarantulas, scorpions, tarantula hawks, hawks, owls, star fields you've never seen, meteorites, omni (what the people in a small fishing village call U.F.O.'s), no-see-ems, bad gas, no gas, too much gas (burpblap), 110 degree heat (that's in the shade), the mother of all washboards, knee deep silt sand, quicksand, razor sharp rocks, razor reefs, bad cops, green angels, good people, hurricanes, flash floods, massive rolling thunderheads, lots of lava rock, volcanos, exotic fish, blues, hammerheads, stingrays, red ants, bees, wasps, good cerveza(beer), punks from Huntington with bad haircuts and bad tattoos and too much ear jewelry making up for a lot of bad design on light boards with too much rocker and too much nose getting blown out of the wave by the offshores, 200 lb. men on 8ft. boards having a major mid-life crisis and not catching any waves or having any fun and bellyaching the whole time, people who don't talk like you, or look like you. So just don't go. O.K.?
Adios and Thanks again amigos,
The Ghostrider
P.S. You thought I was going to name places didn't you. Hey you can go into any local surf shop with the initials Longboard Grotto and find the maps you need. Just don't ask for assistance, my lips are sealed.