Loreto to Cabo San Lucas

January 19, 2008

In the morning Brian and I loaded up our bikes, took some pictures, said goodbye to Sabine, and headed out of town. As I was getting ready to leave I ran into Ian – something I have been doing since San Ignatio – in the local internet café. He was heading south too but for La Paz where he was catching the ferry for the mainland. We exchanged our best wishes and I headed out for an epic run to Cabo.We decided to make the full push to Cabo for one, excellent, reason: Brian wanted to hit the Cabo scene on a Saturday night. So, as a good riding buddy does, I obliged. We made great time but the wind we encountered most of the way exhausted me. The majority of this trip has been characterized by coolness and wind. Hands clinched onto the handgrips waiting for the next big gust to hit and the head beating my helmet took wore me out. But we got to Cabo in great time – about six hours of riding – and entering into town found the Cabo Inn, a great little hotel near everything downtown and with space to park our bikes in the lobby.Our night in Cabo did not disappoint. I showed Brian around and we settled on a nearby taqueria for dinner. Afterwards we got cleaned up and headed down into “deep” Cabo, picking up a young guy we found idling in the Inn. We found a small outside bar to sit and chat for awhile until the magic hour of 11pm hit. Then, of course, I took the guys to Cabo Wabo.

For those of you who have been to Cabo, and particularly Cabo Wabo, you know what I’m talking about when I say Cabo is a scene. Dodging weekend tourists, street vendors, pimps, and time-share salespeople, we found our way to Cabo Wabo. It wasn’t completely packed at this point but it was close, so we wedged our way into the backside of the place, strategically placed between one of the bars and the dance floor. It was an ideal place to watch the action all around us, and the band on stage. One of the highlights of the night was definitely the live music. The band, three Mexican guys and one gringo, started playing covers of 80s rock “greatest hits” and doing a GREAT job of it. Another highlight was watching Brian dance with just about every woman in the place. It was the Cabo he was looking for and around 2am I headed back to the Inn, leaving Brian to continue his crawl downtown. I was way past tired at this point, but a good tired. Good times make for a good tired.

Walking back to the room I began to realize that every mile from this point forward was a mile heading north. Being at the end of the peninsula meant now I would begin the long journey home. And when that realization hits you, something happens. I have no regrets about coming back to the States early for grandma’s memorial service on the 26th. But when you get to the last days of a trip there’s a process of “preparation for re-entry” or at least that’s the best way I know how to put it. Thoughts start turning towards home, but mixed with the reality of where you are right at that moment. And I made it a point, and commitment to myself, to stay in Baja all the way until the border. There is still much Baja to travel. And I also embrace the goodness within the palpable sadness of leaving it.

Mulege to Loreto

On Thursday I packed up to leave Mulege for Loreto and realized that the bolt my right saddleback uses to lock down on the bike had worked it's way off my bike the day before - on my adventuring out behind Mulege. So as I packed up and put everything back on the bike, I thought the weight of the saddlebag would be enough to keep it on so I headed on down the highway. Crash tested the saddlebag. I was heading to Playa Santispac to say goodbye to Jim and Sherrol Lambert (and travel to Loreto with Brian), doing about 50 mph and I felt the saddlebag leave the bike. It's a strange sensation to feel your bike off-weight something going that fast, and I looked in the sideview mirror to watch the bag (it's a hard plastic/aluminum box) bounce and slide down the highway. Luckily it didn't bounce much but slide most of the way and it came to rest, thankfully, on the side of the road - and no cars were behind me. Pretty perfect situation, actually, for all things considered. So I did some roadside repairs, zip tying the bag to the bike where the lock bolt had been, and headed to the Lambert's RV at Santispac.

I have to confess that I have had for a long time - and especially since riding my motorcycle - a bias against the RV set, that it was somehow an illegitimate way to travel. Hugely expensive, wasteful, gas-guzzling, and road-clogging, RVers were, well, annoying. Tough, I know, but like I said, this is a confession.

Jim and Sherrol changed all that. These two people have such a positive impact on the people they meet, and really fit into their environment by staying in one place for large chunks of time, and showed me a whole different way of traveling by RV. Not only that but opened my eyes to how amazing it can be to live "on the road" and the way in which one can spread goodness to those who come into your life in that journeying. I was impressed with their simple, full life. And warmed by the sincere and deep love and affection they have for each other. Such good people.Brian and I said our goodbyes and headed to Loreto.

It was a short trip down to Loreto, and as it has become my routine when I get into a new town, I unpack and go to the local church or mission. The mission in Loreto is incredibly significant: it is the first mission established in all of California and from which all other missions came into being. As the inscription above the door says, it is the "Head and Mother of the Missions of Lower and Upper California." While walking around town I also ran into Sabine - our Swiss friend we met in Mulege - and had an early dinner in a restaurant near the plaza. I realized it was the first time I had been in a restaurant since starting the trip. All my meals had been at taquerias and food bought at markets! So I guess you could say I splurged...

This morning I got up and before the wind kicked up for the day, went to the malecon (beach boardwalk) and took some pictures. It has been windy and cold the entire trip - save one day at the beach - so actually being near the water and it being still was a great experience. Everyone here has told me that this wind and cold is "abnormal." It's all I've known so far... But it has made my Baja trip memorable in many ways.I sat there for a bit and watched a huge group of pelicans dive relentlessly into a school of fish, diving back into the water as soon as they could loft their wings enough to get up to "diving altitude." It was an amazing display of orchestrated dive bombing, pelicans rising and diving by the hundreds. It was a rough time to be a fish.

Brian and I headed out for Cabo, to reach the end of the peninsula and the point at which I will turn towards home.

Bahia Concepcion

I spent the day doing some adventuring around Mulege but cut it short after my fourth time dumping it in silt and soft sand. Before I left a bunch of us guys watched "From Dust to Glory," a documentary on the Baja 1000, and they talked a lot about the "pit of despair" silt beds can be. I have experienced small ones and I can't agree more. But while I was out, I came up on this buzzard just standing there on this cactus, and if anyone out there can explain to me what he was doing, I'd appreciate it. It was a "Planet Earth" moment.

So I then took the bike all up and down the Bahia, stopping in and seeing all the different playas along the coast. I scoped out some future camping spots - and there's many.

I then went back to Playa Santispac to hang out with Jim and Sheryl, and they had befriended another BMW rider named Brian. So the four of us hung out and had dinner together and talked about life, love and motorcycles. What else is there?!

Here's a pic of Brian feeding the pelicans - and getting his hand taken off.It's overcast this morning, but I'm hoping it burns off. It's been nothing but beautiful, but windy, and I hope for a good ride to Loreto this afternoon.

Mulege / Playa Santispac

Got up at 0 dark 30 and headed to Playa Santispac on the Bahia Concepcion to catch the sunrise over the bahia (bay).

I sat in the complete dark and watched the stars rotate in the sky, as I rested well in my Thermalounger chair and cozy in my suit. I sat and reflected on the incredible wealth in my life - I can sit here, on this beach, in this way, and be grateful. It was a time filled with goodness.As the sun arose people all around me in their huge RVs started to stir and come out to join me on the beach. Seals on a nearby island barked the sun up. The last stars gave way to orange and blue.The morning wore on and I met a handful of people who have made the traveling life their own. One man next to me has been on the road since 1992, others longer, some shorter. But all have a love of seeing new things and experiencing new places, and I am coming to appreciate, a love of a kind of community of travelers.

I met Jim on the beach and after a long day of sun and reading I went to his RV and spent a good bit of time talking and sharing life. Sheryl came back from town later in the afternoon and entered into the long talk, bringing with her a woman's sensibility we certainly lacked. It was a wonderful intersection of two (three) lives and they've invited me back for dinner tomorrow, which I'll take them up on.

It was a day of fullness. Of sun, rest, reading, writing, talking, cervesas, company. All I had wanted and, as is the grace of Abba, much more.
My camera LCD screen went on the fritz and I lost about half of my pictures. Disaster was averted when I got it back to the room and pressed a bunch of buttons in an order I can't remember, and now it works. So I hope to continue to have good luck with the camera and keep the pictures coming.

Santa Rosalia to Mulege

I awoke this morning in bliss: I had actually slept the whole night through. The last two nights were marked by spotty sleep at best due to drunk rager parties two doors down, a creaky bed in the same room (two nights, different couples), teens outside my bathroom window singing loud to their shitty car stereo, and all of this lasting until 4am each night. It was kind of funny actually. But it was really nice to get some sleep finally.

I hung out a bit in town once I got up and went down to the famous French bakery (pandaria) and scored a baguette fresh out of the oven. So I strolled to the plaza and sat there watching the sun get higher. On my way back to the room to load up I went to my “usual” taco stand and ordered a taco, this time realizing it was a beef head/brain taco as well as soup. So I got that down and headed back to my room.

I had Senor Victor and his assistant pose with the bike, said our adioses, and headed out.

This Santa Rosalia - Mulege - Loreto section of Baja is immensely popular with the retiree gringo set and I passed mucho RVs in the short (40 mile) stretch between Santa Rosario and Mulege. Of course the most common license plate was from California but closely followed by Washington, then Oregon (even with Lithia plates), and a lot from Canada. And none could drive very fast or well. That’s the motorcycle talking.

So I got into Mulege around 1pm, scored another nice, cheap room, unloaded, then went out exploring a bit. What’s emerged as my modus operandi when I first get into a new town is heading to the church and sitting for a bit. I really enjoyed this in Santa Rosalia and the same for here. Afterwards I headed up to the mission and took a short hike among the date palms that fill the little valley of Mulege.

I’ve pretty much just hung out today, walking around, reading in the plaza, and gringo watching. There’s a lot more of them here than anywhere I’ve been outside Ensenada. And I tend to avoid them as best I can. I don’t know why this is entirely but I feel a repulsiveness when I come across them. It’s a kind of “you don’t belong here” which, as you’ve already thought, neither do I. It’s like being on a motorcycle gives me some greater legitimacy or something. I can just hear Kirk saying that’s bullshit, and he’s right. So I’m working on going with the flow that other tourists think this part of the world is worth traveling to. But the adventurer in me likes the idea of being way out and off the beaten path, and retirees in shorts and huge Ford 250s just breaks apart that fantasy of mine.

At this point I’m thinking I’ll get up very early and try to catch sunrise on Playa Santispac – a beach that overlooks the Bahia (Bay) Concepcion. From what I have read, watching a sunrise over the BC is close to heaven, and an experience I want to catch while I’m here. And having a few cervesas while sitting on the beach that afternoon after (maybe) doing some snorkeling.

It’s been pretty windy here these last few days with more wind for a few more, so going out on a boat is no bueno por me. So we’ll see how the day stacks up. Like with many things here in Mexico, we’ll just have to see.

San Ignatio and Laguna San Ignatio

Today I took a road trip (meaning, in this case, that I left my gear at the hotel and went off for the day) to San Ignatio. Actually I took a trip throughout the Laguna San Ignatio peninsula and had another epic adventure.

San Ignatio is an oasis in the desert, a valley filled with date palms from the 1700s where the missionaries sought to bring farming and trade to the indigenous people. Of course they needed the help because they hadn't done just fine on their own for hundreds of years, but that´s for you to read about in the history of Baja California. I got into this unique town around 10am and after taking a few pics, decided I would continue on to the Laguna San Ignatio - one of the best whale migration routes in the Pacific. I wasn´t sure if I was going to jump on a boat with some gringo tourists or just keep riding solo, but I ended up just riding. And then cleaning.

The route to the Laguna, an inlet of water that is flanked by mainland Baja and a peninsula of land that juts out into the Pacific, is about 70 km (50 miles) of dirt road. The road is washboardy at times and slightly washed out in others, but all in all it's a nice ride. There are even solid stretches of well graded dirt, so I got the bike into 4th gear in spots. That´s hauling in terms of what typically goes for speed on these roads.

I reached La Laguna, a small town on the water, after much desolation and flatness. But getting to the Pacific when I had left the Sea of Cortez just hours before was a unique experience. So today I rode from the Sea of Cortez to the Pacific and back. Not many times in my life will I get to say that. But I hope to again at least a few...

So, not wanting to just sit there, I got back on the bike and kept heading southwest to see how far out on the point I could get. Ten miles or so of "exploratory" riding and my GPS was telling me I was getting close. So as I looked up from my map at a very near ocean, I thought, "yes, I´ve made it." And that´s when I hit a section of the road that looked solid but was 8 inches of mud and suddenly found I was inadvertently crash testing my suit (It performed brilliantly, of course). I flung over the left handlebar at about 30 mph and rolled once or twice and instantly got up and went back to the bike. Now mind you, I'm way out there and have no idea as to the nearest human being. So I got it back up, slung a rooster tail of mud 20 feet, and got to an open area near the ocean and parked.

Mud was caked everywhere, including me. So I did the only thing someone in my position would do and found a nearby burn/trash pile and scavenged for something to start stripping mud off with. A rusty piece of metal bar did the trick and I started with the engine and worked my way to the tires. When I got the larger chunks off, I went back to the engine to get mud out of the grooves (the engine is air cooled and needs the grooves to stay cool). But the bar was too thick so I looked around and found...an oyster shell. The guys in SF will appreciate the irony in that. So after cleaning up, taking a break, and taking some pics, I headed back.

After stopping at a small fishing village, getting a Fresca and chatting with the guy there about the bike and the San Francisco Giants, I headed back the 50 miles to San Ignatio.

San Ignatio is a place I'd like to return to and get to know better. The Iglesia/mission is incredibly beautiful and the plaza is frozen in time. Unfortunately I had to return to Santa Rosalia before I could visit the museum that holds some replicas of nearby cave paintings. But I did walk through the church, the plaza and the main town area. If I have time and opportunity, I'll stay in San Ignatio on the way back.

Being so far out in such a desolate place, all alone, and certainly after having dumped it the way I did, gave me a real appreciation for my own sense of adventure and self-confidence. Not that I always know what I'm doing - quite the contrary. It's believing in yourself and that within yourself you have the resources to do what needs to be done. That is a fortunate thing. And I am grateful I have it to the degree I do. I can't say that I feel such confidence all the time, but being put in situations like these give me windows to see good things about myself. And those are gifts.

Tomorrow is Mulege. Beach, sun, water and cervesas.

Santa Rosalia - pictures

Iglesia Santa Barbara

Below: the museum and former French admin building.

View of the Sea of Cortez, overlooking the city. Iglesia Santa Barbara in middle right of pic

A very expensive clothes line