Day 51

I emerged from my tent under moonlit palms. It was like arabian nights. The time change had made our normal wake up feel even earlier, and  I most of my things packed before rhe daylight was strong. We pushed our bikes theough the sandy ground and over the fallen palm fronds to the point where the gravel road dipped below the running fresh water stream. The air was noticably cooler in this area and it had a calmness to it that made me want to linger. Yet, we had places to go.

We rolled back into the square of San Ignacio and I quickly oiled my chain and tightened a few screws (I have a knack for discovering them when they are so loose rhey are just about to fall out). Our friends in the RV from the day before gave us a short "see you on the road."

Back on the 1, we were met immediately by winds. Strong from the East Northeast. But it's had to be certain of that, they seemed to be erratic, switching directions and and unleashing powerful bursts often. I would've even called it playful if it hadn't been so much of a pain. Either headwind or sidewind, sometimes both, and there wasn't much to block it. The road was a little windy, but made its way fairly directly through the open desert underneath the towering volcano, Volcán Las Tres Virgenes. The terrain itself was greener with more small trees and large cactuses. A farm here of there advertised "Datiles" (dates).

It was to be a shorter day (only 47 miles), but the wijds made it just as long as a normal day. The riding isn't much different in those kinds of winds, but it can be very frustrating. You have to fight for every inch. Without any momentum, even the flats feel like uphill.

On the other side of the volcano, the road dove steeply down into another plain (equally windy) before dropping sharply again into a dry gorge that lead to the Sea. The highway here was a bit frightening, but it was nice to have some speed on the downhill.

As it turned the corner to follow the shoreline sourh, I could see rhe whitecaps frothing on the Sea of Cortez, and a gust hit me so hard, I was brought to a standstill on a downhill and nearly toppled over from stalling. Luckily. as we turned, it shifted towards our backs and we flew down the last stretch.

On the outskirts of Santa Rosalía there was a large mining operation that send dust into the active air, seemingly from a conveyor belt that was moving material around that wouod soon be deporited on the freighter docked nearby. As the came into town, the industrial presence was obvious. A very old and very large metal structure for loading train cars lay besidd one side of the road, while a wooden tower by the docks stood like the remnants of trojan horse.

We dropped into town and found a cafe with wifi to make our move. Lluc's back was hurting bad and he wasn't in a good mood from the day, so he made the call. "I want a hotel." Around the corner was "Hotel El Industrial." We got a single room and I let him have the bed.

At sunset we ventured back out to see if we could find something to soothe us bellywise. It was Monday and in the square they were tearing down amusement park structures and many empry food carts. A woman at a cafe said it was the anniversary of the town that weekend. "Cuantos años?" I asked. "Ah, no sé. Muchos." The party must have been good because none of the restaurants were open. We settled on a food cart down by the docks run by two spanish-speaking trans women. Didn't expect that but glad to support the business.

Over dinner Lluc confessed the day had been hard on him. In fact the past several had. It was the road; An unshakable stress of being in the way of vehicles of much greater mass trabeling at much higher speeds. Though 9 out of 10 drivers that pass us are considerate and often friendly, there are still those that come too close for comfort. For Lluc, it just wasn't fun anymore. It was a matter of mindset, and it was clear we had different perceptions. I respected his honesty and knew I couldn't change the way he felt. It wasn't personal. So we contemplated splitting up. He would much rather spend some time in a nice village by the sea and meet me down at the bottom when I got there. It wasn't clear where that would be, but it seemed like a good option. I began to try and imagine taking on the rest of the penninsula alone. It would be different without a co-pilot, but perhaps for the better. It's hard to enjoy yourself when you know your partner is suffering.

At least for tomorrow, we ride together. Let's make it a good one, I offered.