What a beautiful place. I'm sitting at the famous Scorpion Bay Hotel/ Campground, having huevos mexicanos con frijoles y arroz (rice and beans). After leaving Loreto, I decided to head to the Pacific side of Baja to meet up with the movie crew. I dodged cows, donkeys, horses and goats for around 4 hours to get here.
The new road from the highway is still under construction, so it was washboards and dirt for 40 kilometers. Lots of fun. The bike only tried to seriously climb around in front of me one time, but giving her a bit more gas, she straightened right out again. What a fun ride. When I reached actual paved road, I was a bit relieved, but a bit disappointed all at the same time. from there, it was a quick sprint into town, shortly before sunset.
As soon as I pulled into town, I could tell things were different here. The beauty of the setting sun over the south facing bay, mild wind, the salty air, shrimp boats silhouetted against the skyline, and an indescribable happiness that overtook me. I was all smiles under my helmet. I pulled up to a small store for dinner supplies, and before I even had my helmet off, a carload of locals pulled up. An old man got out and walked straight to me, hand extended in greeting, and a big smile on his face. "Buenas tardes amigo." he said. "Bienvenido a San Juanico."
Bought a chunk of mozzarella cheese, went next door for freshly made hot tortillas, and headed to the "malecon," which constisted of a block of streetlights and a sidewalk. I asked the first lady that walked by for a recommendation on a camp spot, and was immediately invited to spaghetti dinner and a free camp spot in their yard, a shower, and a movie, followed by "pancakies" for breakfast. Mary-Ann, DD, and Leo. Good people from Temecula, California. After pankakies, they loaded up and drove down to the point at San Gregorio for surfing.
I dinked around until noon, washing clothes and repairing a leaky therma-rest, then hit the beach on the bike, loaded with fly rods and swim trunks. This section of beach is famous for riding on, and I see why. Doing 75mph south, I was passed by two guys on Honda dirt bikes like I was standing still. They would scream down the beach, then cut sharply up the side of the dunes, half sliding sideways up the hill, then do a quick turn downhill and come screaming back down to the beach. followed by a wheelie. Yeah, he's good...
I spent the afternoon fly-fishing the surf. Leo drove back down the beach in the style of "The gods must be Crazy," sitting in the backseat with his arms crossed, getting out of his Suzuki Samurai and running along side of it, and standing on top of his surfboard mounted to the roof rack. I made it up to 85 mph on the beach on the ride back. More shrimp for dinner! Cant get enough of those camarrones.
They left at sunrise thismorning to go home yo California, but Leo said I could stay at his place and camp as long as I wanted. I joked that I'd see him in febuary when he gets back. His reply was, "Hey, no problem!"
Now, I'm sitting and waiting for the film crew to pull into town. If I dont catch up with them, oh well, I'll work my way north toward home.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
New Years in Loreto
After being in the second biggest city in Mexico, Guadalajara, for two weeks, I had been craving coastline again. When the ferry pulled into La Paz with it's palm lined streets and sailboats and taco stands, on the beautiful Sea of Cortez, I cannot say I was in any kind of hurry to get back on the road and leave. The only thing I had to fight with is daylight, because as I have mentioned before, the Cardinal Rule of Mexico is NEVER EVER DRIVE AT NIGHT! Especially on a motorcycle. So off I went, heading north.
I reached the Sierras de los Gigantes, which has a special beauty that rivals any mountain range in the world. Quite possibly one of my favorite sections of road on the trip, as many motorcyclist may tell you, because of the view, the hills, the curves, the sheer massiveness and raw beauty that the mountains contain. I was loving it. The bike was running perfect (minus the massive oil leak needing constant attention), and I just hummed through corners, throwing the handlebars into each turn. I was looking forward to stopping in Juncalito again, Just at the base of the mountains right on the beach. This is where several weeks before I had stayed with Todd and Lyn at their beach front house, soaking in the morning sunrises while waist deep in the ocean, flycasting for whatever I could pull in. As I rode the bike down the boulder-strewn road, I grew more and more excited about camping out and finally getting some more fishing in.
I went to check on Todd and Lyn's place, as they are waiting out the Baja winds back in the Bay Area. Guys, the place looks safe and sound! After, I pulled right up to the beach, parked the bike, and proceeded to chat up a guy from Montana on holiday with family. Looked back at the bike, and the rear tire was flat. I was only slightly worried though. I had planned for such an occasion, packing tire irons and spare tube, plus a mini compressor. Just another part of the trip. I decided to set up camp and relax, knowing it would be dark soon. Not too long into unpacking, up walks this young dude just cruising around. Drew. He says he has a tire patch kit, and off he goes to get it. Drew is a pretty young buck, and has been living in his parents house in Juncalito for several weeks, solo. Just hangin out, livin the dream.
Shortly thereafter, a couple of BMW GS Adventures pulled up, piloted by two Canadians. They were true Baja vagabundos, having no real schedule, camping out, living the good life. Kenn and Glenn. We soon discovered that this was the night of the passing of Kenn's youth. Tomorrow was Kenn's 30th birthday. A beer run was quickly organized in Drews 1960's pickup back to his pad, where beer on ice was waiting for us. We loaded beer in our pockets, dried cactus for firewood into the truck bed, and rambled back down the boulder laden beach road. Glenn had gathered up a nice stash of dried palm leaves while we were gone, and the fire was running hot. Shortly after, a couple of chicks from Oregon on a kayak adventure joined us, and it was an official beach party. The bike would have to wait till tomorrow.
I had planned on fishing during sunrise, but when I woke up at 5:00, the wind was already howling. The surf was crashing into the beach at a high rate of speed. Fly fishing was impossible. Back to bed I went. When I woke up again, I inflated the tire with my compressor, killing the battery. I took the bike over to Lloyd's place. Lloyd has a KLR as well, and sympathized with my troubles. he gave me a jump from his pickup truck, gave me some tire patches, and on my way I went.
Made it about 25 kilometers. I had just passed this semi truck, coming down a hill and whizzing by him at a good cut. I noticed a wobble like I hadn't felt before, took a quick glance backwards at my back tire, and saw it running near flat. I had to get off the road quick. Semi breathing down my neck, a steep drop off on the highway shoulder, I saw myself and motorcycle turned into a freshly busted open pinata. Bike parts spread all over, Casey parts spread all over, etc. I hit the brakes hard and went for it. Somehow the semi missed me, and I managed not to turn my bike into yard sale with my high speed highway exit.
I pulled the tire off the motorbike, then the tire from the rim. Installed a new tube, went to inflate it, and my battery was dead. I'm screwed. Thinking quickly, I rummaged through my bags for a sharpie, flipped the back cover over on my repair manual, and made an impromptu sign: "Need a JUMP!" It only took about 10 minutes before Bryan showed up. Bryan is a Canadian carpenter, living in Juncalito. He helped me install the new tube and tire. it took around an hour to get it on, but in the process we managed to break one of the wires inside the tire itself, leaving a dangerous double-ended tire popper inside the tire with my new tube. Bryan knew I was screwed, so he invited me up to his house for dinner with his friends for a new years celebration, and a place to crash for a night.
I went into Loreto searching for a tire shop, but because it was a holiday, nothing was open. I decided to take Brian up on his offer. Just as I was pulling in his gate, my tire went flat AGAIN! parked the bike, took a shower, and we broke out a bottle of Jose Cuervo Tradicional. The tire would have to wait again.
Thismorning, we were able to find a new tire the right size, for $130us. Not too bad. Tomorrow we find a tire shop to do a safe install, and I am on my way!
I reached the Sierras de los Gigantes, which has a special beauty that rivals any mountain range in the world. Quite possibly one of my favorite sections of road on the trip, as many motorcyclist may tell you, because of the view, the hills, the curves, the sheer massiveness and raw beauty that the mountains contain. I was loving it. The bike was running perfect (minus the massive oil leak needing constant attention), and I just hummed through corners, throwing the handlebars into each turn. I was looking forward to stopping in Juncalito again, Just at the base of the mountains right on the beach. This is where several weeks before I had stayed with Todd and Lyn at their beach front house, soaking in the morning sunrises while waist deep in the ocean, flycasting for whatever I could pull in. As I rode the bike down the boulder-strewn road, I grew more and more excited about camping out and finally getting some more fishing in.
I went to check on Todd and Lyn's place, as they are waiting out the Baja winds back in the Bay Area. Guys, the place looks safe and sound! After, I pulled right up to the beach, parked the bike, and proceeded to chat up a guy from Montana on holiday with family. Looked back at the bike, and the rear tire was flat. I was only slightly worried though. I had planned for such an occasion, packing tire irons and spare tube, plus a mini compressor. Just another part of the trip. I decided to set up camp and relax, knowing it would be dark soon. Not too long into unpacking, up walks this young dude just cruising around. Drew. He says he has a tire patch kit, and off he goes to get it. Drew is a pretty young buck, and has been living in his parents house in Juncalito for several weeks, solo. Just hangin out, livin the dream.
Shortly thereafter, a couple of BMW GS Adventures pulled up, piloted by two Canadians. They were true Baja vagabundos, having no real schedule, camping out, living the good life. Kenn and Glenn. We soon discovered that this was the night of the passing of Kenn's youth. Tomorrow was Kenn's 30th birthday. A beer run was quickly organized in Drews 1960's pickup back to his pad, where beer on ice was waiting for us. We loaded beer in our pockets, dried cactus for firewood into the truck bed, and rambled back down the boulder laden beach road. Glenn had gathered up a nice stash of dried palm leaves while we were gone, and the fire was running hot. Shortly after, a couple of chicks from Oregon on a kayak adventure joined us, and it was an official beach party. The bike would have to wait till tomorrow.
I had planned on fishing during sunrise, but when I woke up at 5:00, the wind was already howling. The surf was crashing into the beach at a high rate of speed. Fly fishing was impossible. Back to bed I went. When I woke up again, I inflated the tire with my compressor, killing the battery. I took the bike over to Lloyd's place. Lloyd has a KLR as well, and sympathized with my troubles. he gave me a jump from his pickup truck, gave me some tire patches, and on my way I went.
Made it about 25 kilometers. I had just passed this semi truck, coming down a hill and whizzing by him at a good cut. I noticed a wobble like I hadn't felt before, took a quick glance backwards at my back tire, and saw it running near flat. I had to get off the road quick. Semi breathing down my neck, a steep drop off on the highway shoulder, I saw myself and motorcycle turned into a freshly busted open pinata. Bike parts spread all over, Casey parts spread all over, etc. I hit the brakes hard and went for it. Somehow the semi missed me, and I managed not to turn my bike into yard sale with my high speed highway exit.
I pulled the tire off the motorbike, then the tire from the rim. Installed a new tube, went to inflate it, and my battery was dead. I'm screwed. Thinking quickly, I rummaged through my bags for a sharpie, flipped the back cover over on my repair manual, and made an impromptu sign: "Need a JUMP!" It only took about 10 minutes before Bryan showed up. Bryan is a Canadian carpenter, living in Juncalito. He helped me install the new tube and tire. it took around an hour to get it on, but in the process we managed to break one of the wires inside the tire itself, leaving a dangerous double-ended tire popper inside the tire with my new tube. Bryan knew I was screwed, so he invited me up to his house for dinner with his friends for a new years celebration, and a place to crash for a night.
I went into Loreto searching for a tire shop, but because it was a holiday, nothing was open. I decided to take Brian up on his offer. Just as I was pulling in his gate, my tire went flat AGAIN! parked the bike, took a shower, and we broke out a bottle of Jose Cuervo Tradicional. The tire would have to wait again.
Thismorning, we were able to find a new tire the right size, for $130us. Not too bad. Tomorrow we find a tire shop to do a safe install, and I am on my way!
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