On the Run. 21/10/2011
Up with the sun, it is time to head south again. The road takes us through many dusty old towns, with shops and shacks built along the roadside. Roaming dogs, food cooking over charcoal, clouds of dust from the passing trucks adds to the ambiance. Huge American trucks and the much loved pick-up truck rule the road here. The more noise the exhaust makes adds to the pleasure that a Mexican can have. The Mexican air freshener, the burning automotive tyre adds to the experience. Welcome to Mexico! It is a friendly place, no menacing glances, safer than a que in the Post Office! From El Rossario the route on Mexican highway 1 takes an inland course. Away from the coast the air temperature increases and the landscape turns to desert. Many miles of featureless desert are endured, the roads are in excellent condition, but never be complacent as a surprise may greet you at any moment. Road works Mexican style will sharpen your driving and observational skills immensely. Thoughtfully only one carriageway is excavated, if unfortunately it is your side then tough, as you will have to dodge the machinery and workforce, traverse the compacted washboard surface dampened with water to cunningly keep the dust down and turn it into an ice rink. Greeted with a cheery smile from the work force, they know that if the greasy washboard does not have the Gringo on his head then the ploughed soft sand will, and a few rocks thrown in for good measure should surely do the job. However, there is a means of escape, if there is no traffic coming in the opposite direction you hop up the embankment onto the carriageway and play a game of Mexican Chicken, and if you decide life is good and there is a means of escape you can then dive down the 6 foot drop to safety when you are threatened with an articulated truck going faster than you thought possible. No 56 mph speed governors here! Safely out of the road woks in the middle of no-where a roadside cafe will appear. Burritos’ and coffee for breakfast, that will do only £2.00 and the fuel is .50p a litre too. Soon the desert changes from sand and scrub to giant boulders and huge cacti.
Not like the one's my Nan used to grow!
Now this is Mexico, up until now there was little to excite the senses as south of the border was a little unloved by the Mexicans. A perfect place to wild camp, we purchased suitable refreshment in a nearby shack and retired to the desert. Complete silence and a clear starlight sky ensured a good nights sleep.
Sunset in the desert
A perfect free camp.
Up at sunrise we pack and leave, only stopping to remove the cactus spines from my leather trousers and seat of the bike. The next major town is Guerro Negro, famed for its worldwide export of salt and whale watching. The whale migration does not start until mid December, alas we have missed that one. Two nights recovery are booked in a small side street motel, much needed recovery time needed after the last intense 3 weeks. Guerro Negro is a typical Baja town, one long straight road through town with dirt side roads. Every thing here if you need it, plenty of motorcycle hungry chasing dogs ready to have a go. They also yapped all night for the hell of it, and day break was announced by noisy unsilenced vehicles rattling up and down the dirt roads. A dish of road kill in a nearby cafe ensured another night of unrest while my intestines expelled the unwanted. Burnt toast is the way to recovery; it was nearly burnt hotel as I clumsily overfilled my petrol stove with fuel. Once alight the petrol failed to vaporise properly and resulted in a 3 foot flaming inferno, I can tell you now, the fire warden training skills were not wasted and all was soon under control! Considerable skill was required in the bowel control department during the event.
Guerro Negro to La Paz. 26/10/2011
Not feeling too good, we leave for San Ignacio, after 80 miles of endless Desierto de Vizcaino the lush leafy date palms can be seen. An Oasis in the desert. Just a small town with an ancient church built out of lava block around 1786. A nearby campsite by a lake that was alive with wildlife provided an overnight rest. Still troubled by my upset stomach the road headed towards the east coast of Baja, the coastal town of Santa Rosalia. The crumbling buildings in honourable disrepair, some even more so after Hurricane Jimena swept through in 2009. That was Lonely Planets description; derelict industrial town would have been a better choice of word. 20 miles south, camp was on the beach near Mulege. Beautiful clear water made easy fishing for the Pelicans. During the night an unknown creature raided the oil drum waste bin for my apple core, there were many foot prints around the bin and our tents and bikes had an inspection too.
Camping on the beach.
A view from the tent. It could be better, but not much!
Living by the daylight hours at this time of year allows plenty of time for rest, sunrise at 0600 is spectacular. 200 miles of twisty alpine and desert road await us, and 100 deg F heat. La Paz is a welcome relief; a motel on the edge of town was a welcome site. With air conditioning and Wi-Fi it was all we needed. However, the air conditioning was unable to cope with the unexpected rise in temperature as my mate Flid unfortunately knocked the outside tap off the wall while pushing his bike through the alley way. A spectacular water fountain was now a feature of the hotel. Grumpily the hotel manager turned the water off, but the water feature failed to stop. As the fracture was behind the plaster of the wall, the pressure proceeded to lift the plaster from the wall. Quick thinking was the order of the day, Flid opened the tap fully to relive the pressure, in the end we ripped the tap off, and I scurried out in to the street and broke a branch from a tree and carved a wooden plug with a knife. Bashed in with a spanner, job done! Liquid refreshment was immediately sought. Unable to do any washing now, we disappeared out to find something to eat, returning under the cover of darkness. Tomorrow we will book our ferry crossing.
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