Despacio, Por Favor!!

Please, SLOW THE $#@% DOWN!!!

Jeff and I are driving a rental car from Ensenada to La Paz, Mexico and beyond,

down the Trans-Peninsular Highway.  1000 miles of 2-narrow lane, mostly paved, sometimes flat, often steep, monotonously straight, blindly-curvy cactus-lined and shoulder-lacking highway.

We’ve become complacent in our current living situation in Ensenada. We have been here for two months now,  longer than we have stayed put anywhere in one stretch since we began our live-aboard life two years ago.

Time to change things up.

The #1 “Rule of the Road” on this highway is never, and that means never, ever, never, drive at night. Banditos, you ask? No. Cows. Goats, horses and other free- grazers that feed along the roadsides during the day often go to the asphalt to warm themselves at night.  The proof is the carcases we see, or smell, as we careen down the road at what I beieve to be breakneck speed in our shockless Dodge Dart. The road noise makes music or conversation nearly impossible, and there is a weird rattle as soon as we hit any speed over 50 mph.

80% of deaths on this highway occur at night. And there are a LOT of deaths. Descansos-memorials consisting of shrines, monuments, crosses and often the remainders of the wreckage that so violently took their lives- appear along the roadsides in frightening frequency. Each time we wind around the blind curves and missing guardrails I am reminded of our mortality. However, Jeff seems to get is jollies by grasping the steering wheel and screaming  “whooooooooaaaaahhhhh!!!” in mid-curve while my foot stomps the phantom brake pedal and my sphincters muscles zip shut.

Our first stop is Guerrero Negro, a small town situated on the Parallel 28 and marks the line between Baja California and Baja Sur (South). The temperature outside the car magically changes from cool to miserably hot as soon as we cross the parallel, and does not cool back down until we cross back on the return trip.

Leaving the flat, cactus-filled desert of the mid-peninsula, we cross the from west to east, until a tiny turquoise slip of sea comes into view. Finally! Our first glimpse of the Sea of Cortez!

Driving down the coast, we pass the sheltered bay of Conception, one of the places I am most excited about sailing to next Spring. It is painfully beautiful, and miraculously deserted. How on earth can there not be thousands of people and boats here?

Soon, we begin climbing, then descending, the Sierra la Giagantica mountain range. Ruggledly majestic, the spires explode from the Sea like giant spaceships. They appear barren and hostile, and I ache to hike them.

Puerto Escondido, our next stop, is so hot that Roxie burns her paws getting out of the car. OK, I get why there aren’t more visitors here. Too. Damn. Hot. Fortunately, our Inn, the only one in the area, is air conditioned and has a big pool.

La Paz is out next stop. The town is walkable and we enjoy strolling the malecon in the morning, before the temps rise too high to comfortably be outside. We finally realize the reason, and necessity, of the Mexican siesta. The shops and restaurants close from about 1pm until 5 or so. We return to our little casita and fall asleep under the a/c window unit.  In the evening the town comes back to life,as do we, and we enjoy feasts of fresh seafood followed by ice cream. It is here that I enjoy my first Michelada- a beer cocktail made with hot sauce, worcestersire and sometimes clamato juice. The Rim is covered in a ring of spicy salt, and it is topped off with shots of lime juice and ice. Very refreshing!

The casita we have rented is beachfront, but we opt to drive 20 minutes to Balandra beach, on the Sea of Cortez. The Sea of Cortez is the strip of water that separates Baja from the Mexican mainland. It is here that Jacques Cousteau did much of his filming, and is a diverse and unique ecosystem full of many rare and endangered species.

The little beach is filled with families, so we hike over a few hills and dunes to a secluded section,  where we hang out and swim for the afternoon. We wade back through the warm water and skirt around mushroom rock before emerging back to civilization, such that it is. (There are no facilities here, just a parking lot ad a food truck or two).

Todos Santos is as far south as we make it on this trip. Back on the Pacific coast of Baja Sur, the air is a bit cooler and the water is a lot colder. TS is an artsy little town with many unique gift shops and galleries. We stay at a surfers hostel near the beach, a very spartan little place that boasts of its pool (!) and being dog friendly. Checking in, I am reprimanded for not having told the owner I had dogs, (which I had, he later found it on his reservation,) and am told they will have to stay outside of the room. After paying mr. man an extra $30, he begrudgingly agrees the dogs can sleep on the floor of the room. I find this odd, since the name of the hostel is The Surfing Dog…  The “pool” is a jacuzzi without the heat and bubbles, more resembling a horse water trough. Oh, well.

The beaches here are long and wide, the waves perfect for surfing, but with a fierce undertow. Again, we have the beach to ourselves, and take advantage of the chance to stretch our legs and let the pups run free.

I’m gonna save our return trip and the included stops for my next blog post, so please join us for more adventures soon.

Hasta Pronto!!!!