Thursday, October 27, 2011

Bug bites and hot nights


As Brian guides Claudette southbound on Mex 15, I sit cross-legged as the copilota counting the bug bites on my ankles, trying with all of my might not to scratch. It is all too often I give in to the urge, only to have the little bumps turn into larger, itchier, welts. The short lived satisfaction is mostly worth it. It is interesting to me how the time flows for Brian and myself these days. I don't know whether it is the country that we are driving through, or the fact that we wake up every or sometimes every other morning in a completely new place, but it feels like it couldn't possibly be only a week that has passed. So much has happened! 

I don't think I would ever tire of the Baja. The barren desert that appears so desolate, blooms into life when you move in for a closer look. We camped for free right on the sandy beaches of Bahia de Conception for a few days, never even changing out of our swim suits (don't worry, laundry was done just this morning!) While snorkeling along the sandy bottomed beach out to rocky cliffs we trespassed into another world, making the huge schools of palm-sized yellow and black striped fish hungry with curiosity, angering the funny territorial fish species, and scaring the shy sting rays almost hidden right below our bodies. 

The ferry from La Paz in the Baja Sur to mainland Mexico was an interesting twelve hours and 2,510 pesos. Our fellow ferriers were a group of high school kids, which introduced our ears to popular Spanish rap (Seems that Eminem is definitely global) and semi-truck drivers, whose rigs towered over our seemingly little van. We left at nine o'clock in the evening. The thrum of the enormous engines blowing greasy hot air into our van made for a very sweaty restless night. In the lounge the second-hand airline seats were broken and sticky, the Spanish movie skipped every 2-3 seconds, and one of the employees scolded us for eating crackers because it makes the rat problem worse. Some of the "extra" passengers were quite enjoying themselves on the trip over the Sea of Cortez. About four pelicans were taking advantage of the lights spilling off the deck in order to pick off unlucky fish near the surface of the water. Just before the sun was up, the shudder of the boat coming to a stop in Topolobampo woke us and we waited our turn to drive off the deck and back onto solid land. The next time we will ride a boat will be from Panama to Columbia. Im already getting excited about it. 

We were regaled with tales the very next night from surfer/part-time ex-pat/writer Richard. He told us about the (illegally) cartel-owned surf breaks close to our campsites in Celeste Gasca, and the near tragic fates of those who tried to surf them without paying. And I thought the tire-slashing stories of outsiders cutting into the the line-up of locals from surf breaks in Oregon were bad. Mexico is going to be great. 

San Ignacio Mission, built in 1728 

Full deployment. 
5 dust devils! 

Those are some good lookin' feet!

Our mighty barco (boat!)
Packing up for the night

Sweaty kids in love

Sinaloa sunrise. Brian said that its "artsy"!

The bugs are getting bigger!



Saturday, October 22, 2011

Tranquillo



No, that is not a misprint on the taco counter to your left. Lindsay has somehow managed to keep the count (reasonably) close. The fish tacos seem to get better with every mile we drive south and ten bucks will get you eight tacos and two beers- heaven. Other than that, not a whole lot to report. One turned over tractor trailer (we stopped to make sure everyone was ok), a whole lot of boojum trees (came loose from a Dr Suess book), and several days of hammock laying and beach reading have kept us smilin'. 
 
Boojum tree, about 40' tall!

 Our palapa @ Bahia de Los Angeles



At Bahia de Los Angeles we briefly met another group headed to Argentina. Very fortunate and random- we gave them one of our freshly minted business cards and I don't think we've seen the last of them. 



The camping has been great- averaging about $12/night on the beach with bathrooms and showers. Tonight we are in Guerrero Negro, a small town on the west coast about halfway down baja. We are technically two states away from the border as we passed into Baja California Sur just before getting here. Tomorrow we make for Mulage and Bahia Concepcion on the Sea of Cortez, and after a night or two, may push for La Paz. 

yes!


The view from the bedroom into the kitchen

A small side note- we purchased a pretty cool (we thought) gadget that purifies water (as opposed to just filtering it) with UV light. We left the backpacking filters north of the border. It came with a sweet charging case with a solar panel and cost about $160. And it made it 4 days. Just quit. We had stocked up with iodine tabs and would like to use them for emergency only as they taste terrible. I've read about purifying with bleach- about a teaspoon/ten gallons. Anyone out there used this method for any type of duration? 


Topes!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Viva Mexico!

10/17/2011
The wind chimes clinking together make the only other noise to compete with the sound of my fingers tapping on the laptop keyboard. Brian and I are the only two people here at Coyote Cal's hostel in Erendira, Baja Norte, and we have been the only people here. For a while. So while we wait for the hostel proprietors, Brian is delving into some Harry Potter and am excited to tell you about our last few days. 

Though we have been in the van for one whole month now, it felt like we were just starting the trip as we drove over the international border at Tijuana. It was a perfect day for beginning travel. While we had to go to three different buildings to get the three different documents that we needed, crossing the border went pretty darn smoothly. It was a little difficult finding where the different buildings were, however, and wandering around the border town is not what one wants to be doing, especially with all of the vital documents in hand, ie, passports, van title and registration, etc. First we stopped at the most official looking building selling vehicle insurance, and after completing our business with the new Mexican vehicle insurance papers in hand, we were directed to the Aduana (Migration office). After plenty of practice saying no gracias to the street vendors and taxi drivers, we found the Aduana, only to be directed to another window, and then another, and then yet another that was about 5 blocks away down a semi-creepy alley to the Banjercito, where you purchase your vehicle permits. The successful and educational venture of obtaining our tourist's cards and the van's importation permit and insurance was a good indication that we were on Latin America time now. 

Tijuana didn't capture our interest any longer than to fill up at the Pemex (the national gas chain) as I already had my nose in the Camping in Mexico, Lonely Planet's Mexico and Drive the Americas books and Brian was trying to figure out which road was highway 1, the transpeninsular highway that runs the length of Baja. 

Our destination was a little campground outside of Ensanada, about 84 km south of the border, called Playa Saldamando. What we found was an empty (we are definitely in the off season), little tranquil paradise where you camp on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean for a mere $15 dollars a night. We set up the hammock and watched as groups of delphinas played in the surf and chased their dinner till the sun dropped out of the sky. I think they might have been showing off for us. 

In the late morning after finishing up an episode of Breaking Bad (Thanks Andy for all the media!!) with some Maple instant oatmeal, we made the short trek into the fishing town of Ensanada. Brian took an early lead in the great taco eating competition of 2011, with 5 fish, shrimp and carne asada tacos at lunch. We left Ensanada with half a kilo of shrimp from the Mercado de Pescada (fish market), a bottle of Cabernet from a vineyard just south of the town, full bellies, and a love for the Baja and our trip. 

The hostel host has since returned from town and I end this sitting on a comfy old well loved couch in the main room of my very first hostel. Thanks to all of you for your incredible kindness and words as we start this amazing journey. We feel so blessed to be surrounded by such awesome friends and family!

10/19/2011
Two days later…we finally found internet! Now we are in the town of El Rosario, home of 105 year old philanthropist Mama Espinosa. Brian and I were here last May with the Flying Samaritans to open a weekend medical clinic and it feels great to come back. Last night Claudette made it out all the way to Punta Baja, 10 miles from town on a tricky dirt road with amazing ocean views. We enjoyed our first non-designated, pull off on the side of the road with a good view, free!, campsite right next to the ocean. The roads head inland for a while, so we filled up our lungs with fresh-off-the-pacific air. Into the desert we go. 












The hard life.

Ensanada




Morning marine layer.




Saturday, October 15, 2011

The Lady Will Have The Duncan Reynaldo Please.

Happy Birthday Lindsay!!

The big day is here! Not only Linds' birthday, but tomorrow will find us shooting through the San Ysidro border crossing into Tijuana and beyond! Since crawling out of the Grand Canyon last week we have really concentrated on getting in a lot of carefree relaxing and over-eating/drinking (wink, wink linds). We had planned to spend just a few days in Tucson and San Diego, but both stops had been pushed longer to allow for more relaxing.

We are really not that lazy, but on some level we both know that we may soon miss the carefree comforts of the states. Not to mention the hospitality of our Tucson and San Diego people. Big Nebraska win at the Sweeney residence- it had been too long John and Ingrid! Thanks for letting us er...sleep in your driveway! And it must feel real bad to give up two home-runs at stickball on your home field CQ, sorry 'bout that.
Sweeney saturday
Little CQ practicing with the big boys


hmmm.
Thanks also to the nameless heavy metal fan at the usps store in Tucson for making us six fake id's to provide to sketchy checkpoint officials (not convinced this is a good idea yet...comments welcome). We've been couching at good friend Andrew Jorgensen's Pacific Beach house for the past few days getting ready for the big push off.


Secret hollow book trick! Classic anti-theivery!!
Go-cart racin' in miramar


Were prepared for just about anything!

For the folks who don't know yet, our itenerary:

We head through the border at Tijuana to Ensenada tomorrow morning, camping and exploring for a few days to get our spanish dusted off.

A week or two from now should find us in Cabo San Lucas (scuba diving?) and La Paz where we will ferry over to Mazatlan...

...just in time for Day of The Dead festivities (three days or so).

From here south, camping down the coast for a good while, Acapulco perhaps, where we head east to Puebla, and Vera Cruz (we have some friends there).

Down, and then up the Yucatan Peninsula next to visit Merida, Cozumel, and Belize (Blue Hole for scuba diving).

We aim to be in Guatemala in the second week of November. We've got some driving to do!


Brett's grill is an extension of his soul. And it is good.
Happy birthday Lindzer!

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Git along little doggy

"Oh, the trail is only eight miles in and totally flat. Easy." Brian said as we were setting up an overnight camp spot on a roadside turnout in the pitch black darkness, thirty miles into the Havasupai Indian reservation. We all heard the cattle and coyotes rustling down for bed right alongside us. Turning the van to block Garrett's tent from the road, the headlights illuminated a sleepy cow with really big horns. We were in the middle of nowhere, not for the first, or the last time on the trip. Early the next morning, packing our backpacks, gearing up for the trail ahead of us, Garrett said he had dreams of cattle walking over his tent.

Brian's knowledge of the trail was instantly disproven as the three of us looked over the edge out into the Havasu Canyon, a tributary of the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. Spectacular red rock formations and winding dry stone riverbeds waited for us 3,140 feet, in a mile and a half down the cliff, complete with cowboy mule trains carrying supplies and mail down to the small village near our destination, Havasu falls. The beauty and complete foreignness of the landscape, different from any Northwest hiking trail that I was accustomed to, made the deep gravelly sand in the bottom of the canyon creating difficult walking so worth it.

The Havasupai Tribe against all odds scratches out a living down in the riparian bottom of the Havasu Canyon, eight miles in by mule or by foot, which Brian was correct about, with only a third, more costly means of transport, by helicopter. Two more miles outside of the village we came to the camping site, so close to the turquoise Havasu river that it drowned out most conversation. The technicolor river and pools, colored by lyme deposits from water tumbling over travertine, were cold but refreshing, and the ramen noodles with leftover spiced chicken sausage and steamed vegetable mix was delectable. Everything just exactly perfect. It rained most of the night and I woke once or twice, maybe three times listening for the flash flood thundering down as the ranger warned could happen. Thankfully the worst we woke to in the morning was slight muscle soreness, which would be worked out walking back up the 3,140 ft canyon, and my unfortunate day four unwashed hair. Now that was a little scary. 

"Why did I ever think getting into that canyon would be flat?" Brian asked me as we now sit at the Tucson County club pool, sun-soaking and staring into the man-made iridescent turquoise of the chlorinated water. I replied that I didn't really know, but I was happy that he was wrong that time. 


The brothers. Thanks for joining us Garrett!

Prickly pear!

Church tower in Havasupai village

Havasupai falls and a hungry hiker

Mooney falls; named for the prospector who fell to his death shortly after the falls discovery. Be careful Brian!

Mooney falls

We still like each other after  weeks in the van!

Not easy to get to down to Mooney falls; took me a little convincing. That may be a forced smile for the camera. I was really shaking in my sandals.







The delightfully cheap motel room for the pooped three hikers.  Were not sure as to the cleanliness of the towels provided. What do you think?? ( :