Day 43

I was up before dawn, and though I couldn't convince myself to get out of bed,  I did some last minute investigation on the road to San Felipe while I still had an internet connection. Lluc stirred and after 3 snoozes of the alarm, rose from the bed we were sharing. We noticed cloudy sky over the ocean while we ate. It wouldn't last but a cooler morning would be nice. There was a new exhileration about the packing this morning. We were loaded far more heavily than we've ever been: more water, more food, more emergency equipment... It felt as if we were starting all over again. When we were assembled, Michelle took a photo of us in the sand alleyway between the little houses and gave us both hugs. After short words of encouragement, we rode down the cobblestone road back to the highway.

It was a few miles down the 1 into Ensenada, where we rode down the waterfront and under the giant Mexican flag waving gently above the square. Navigating mostly by paper map (courtesy of AAA) from here on out, we waited until we saw a sign for San Felipe and followed it through town and slowly up into the hills.

The pavement was good, better than it had been in town, and as expected there was no shoulder. After the while stripe on the side there was usually a sheer edge and then spiney bushes. But, we rode comfortably in the lane and we were pleased to have the passing traffic give us plenty of room and a lot of waves. It was starting to feel reasonable again. I think we can do this.

We rode gently up for a long time into ranchland in steep, dry hills with many rounded and exposed rocks. The roadside was heavily littered, and looking back we could see the smog of the city hanging low. Glad to be out of that. The farther we got from town, the litter and traffic lessened until we were riding on a quiet winding road into the interior.

A sign read "Ruta de Queso y Vino" (Wine and cheese route). Sounded pretty good around then. Sure enough, the were lots of skinny cows and grape vines between the steep hills.

Around mid day we began to go down and the hills opened into a wide valley where we hoped to find a town called "Ojos Negros." The expanses was spectacular. I was tired and thirsty, and never thought I'd be happier to be heading to a town whose name means 'black eyes.' A strong wind was blowing with us and we came to a stop at a military checkpoint. I came to a stop by the guard thinking they were going to look through our stuff, but he just said "Adelante" when he saw me step off.

We rode into town which was divided by a wind swept dirt road. The was a hotel of sorts on the right, a small restaurant and general store. We found the water filling station in the tienda and asked the old woman with big glasses where the next place to fill water was. "Heroes de la Indepencia." I asked how many kilometers. "40, mas o menos." Lluc was eying the restaurant next door so we'r stopped in for a bite. It was one big room with the menu handpainted in red on the outside. A short man welcomed us, and Lluc asked for 2 sopes, and salsa picante with a grin. The man's wife choked on a gas stove near us and I watched her flatten the dough and pull them out of the frier. This was the real deal.

We exchanged some small talk, but it was mostly quiet. Seemed like that's how it mostly was in this town. Outside, we were getting back on our bikes and two young boys came over and oggled at them. The littler one said "Ay, que llantitos (what little tires)." I don't think they'd ever seen a road bike. He pointed at my pannier, "Qué es esto?" "Es para mi ropa (for my clothes)". He points at the other "Y esto?" "Para mi comida (for my food)." Then the noodle "Y esto?" If Inhad known the word for wings I would've said that, but instead I just told him plainly "Para que los carros no me matan (so the cars don't kill me)."

Out of town the wind had really picked up. Itvwas mostly to the side by a little to the back which was fine by me. It blew us across a large open expanse and it continued like that for most of the afternoon. The dry, rocky hills ringed the valley, submitting into rolling hills before us that we climbed in the afternoon light. It felt good to be out in the open, to be out in the land of desert and road. The only things that broke up the cacti and thorny bushes were a burnt out car and several roadside alters.

I saw ahead a construction worker standing still. I got closer and realized it was a scarecrow dressed like one. To get you to slow down? Around the bend a bridge was under construction. We rested in the shade of the trees of the arroyo it was supposed to span. A gang of stray dogs stated at us with every bite we took. An old man under the bridge talked to us. He had been working alone on the bridge for 4 months. '2 more months' he said,  but I found that hard to believe.

With the fall light, by 4:30 it felt like it was 7, or shadows cast long across the road. We had come into a wide open plane, bigger than the valley of Ojos Negros. It was full of short stubby trees and course sand. At a cattle guard we pulled off and found a place to stay for the night. Our first time camping since north of Santa Barbara. Cozy to be back in the tent again. It truly is my happy place.

We stretched and made a good cowboy meal of rice and beans and just finished cleaning up when the sun went down. Shortly after, the moon made a grand appearance on ther other side of the sky. Quite the encore. A fitting end to a triumphant day. We ride again.