Because everywhere, I see signs of the best kids in the world. Cesar, bounced on the back of my chair for an hour while I ate fish tacos in Guerrero Negro. Wonderful.
El Jardin de los Ninos
Reply
The Pace
I realize now that it takes a few weeks to get into this pace. Wake, clean (when you can), pack, and ride. I seemed to have grabbed another gear on the trip, even though I have only a week or so before I´m back near the states. The music is on and I´m pecking away at the computer tonight as the stars roll overhead. I could take several routes tomorrow, but I won´t decide until I have started the bike.
BT
The Teaser
Just got into San Ignacio (redux) and am looking to run to Guerrero Negro tomorrow. First, let me just say that Mulege was nuts. In 24 hours I was party to almost getting eaten by a whale, a dinner party replete with artists and singers of the highest caliber, new friends that could party like tournament trained professionals, crashed cars (two), and all followed by a wonderful town party that kept the magic going through late last night. It took some effort, but I had to throw myself out of the mix this morning and head for San Ignacio. A ton of bikers in SI with expectations of 20 or more RVs coming into town tomorrow. Glad to be on the move.
Visited the Tres Virgines this afternoon (a beautiful volcano) and spend much of the time in the shade of a cactus tree having a sandwich. Perfect. Pushing for Guerrero tomorrow, but looking at the ride into San Franciscito and up through Bay of Los Angeles. I will try and work out the details on fuel tonight.
BT
I Could Have Been Doing Laundry Today
But, instead I almost got swallowed by a whale. No shit. La Boca de La Muerta.
So, E. sends me a message and let’s me know that I need to go slower and that that I need to look harder for the kinds of things that constitute Baja magic. Heeding her advice, I met two interesting folks last night, one of whom turned out to be a fisherman with a gift for poetry (“Beto” – oh, no, not another ‘Bob’). He invited me out fishing with one of his local friends (Max) and I decided to take the next day off to do absolutely nothing. Nothing in this case meant getting a ride on the backs of two 40-50 ft. whales in a 17 foot boat. I can assure you that humility is the largest mammal in the world pushing you backward with its lip. The video still doesn’t do the moment justice, but it comes damn close.
Oh, maybe the best part of this story is that just moments before I shot this video, Max turned to Beto and me, and said, “Have I ever told you that my real name [no joke] is Jonah?” WTF? Are you kidding me…?
This one is for CG and the ’86 Mulege Crew
Look familiar?
The hill-top bar is now a house. I asked if I could come in and have a drink anyway, but, surprisingly, they didn’t let me.
Respete Las Senales
If you every driven in Baja, you’ve seen the sign “Respete Las Senales” (Respect the Signs). I like to think of this directive as a larger metaphor for doing anything in Baja. Look around, get lost for a bit, but know when it is time to move on…”Respete Las Senales.” In this case y’all probably noted that the GPS has me moving north. I have appealed to the ‘senales’ and decided to make a move to Mulege, as opposed to doing the big hump down to La Paz. At a riding limit of about 100-150 miles a day, pressing into La Paz would take another week, getting there and back (i.e. to Loreto), so I made the call to go check things out in Mulege and maybe sit on a beach for a few days. I need to find a new sleeping bag! Anyway, if I had months instead of weeks, I might have done the full show. Today, I looked at the signs and I am glad to be moving ‘norte.’
BT
Missing San Juanico
Uploading tons of photos (238) in Loreto but missing San Juanico.
18 Ways for Feet to Die in Loreto
One More for The Road
This is happiness and confusion defined: leaving Mike and Jans, broken ego, bent parts, heck even bent signs into town after a day a few days of ‘this is your adventure, BT.’
RE: This is the Face of Exhaustion
Yes, this is the face of exhaustion. I did something like 45 miles in just under seven hours. That’s right, you do the math. Crawling…no, crawling would be fast in this case. The road out of town and to Loreto (via San Jose Comondu and Santa Isabel), turned from a trail into a wash and it didn’t get better from there; in fact, it only got worse, I had to go up an over a 2,700 ft. mountain.
I fell over plenty; I abused bike and clutch, and refused to turn around. Reason One: this WAS the trail, and everyone said that it would take two to three hours, maybe four, max. Reason Two: GIANT dogs, two of which chased me for a mile up a washed out trail, nipping at my leg. I finally stopped and yelled at the dogs with malice and it seemed to do the trick. They gave up and went off to more pleasurable pursuits. Me, not so much. On three separate occasions I had to off-load the bags and panniers and portage them up the trail a half of a mile or so, then return for the bike. Wow.
I suffered mightily until, just outside of Santa Isabel, at 5:00, when I decided to give it up and pack in for the night. I was shocky, cold and sweaty, and I needed to avoid a serious mistake in the middle of BFE. The irony of the whole thing was that I was in sight of a small rancho, but I was literally too tired to try and keep moving into the night or even think about making it into Loreto.
Realization #234: a bush or a rock ate my sleeping bag. A few days ago, I ran into a cholla that put one million cactus needles into my bag. Now, bag gone. The funny thing, was I was too tired to even worry about it. I dried off, set up a tent, put on my warmest clothes, and crawled under an emergency blanket. I was asleep in 10 minutes.
Good times, people, good times.
BT
2farandaway 