Montando Para Mariscos

Morning came and we rolled our bikes out of the hotel room. Today we ride for Mulegé. One of the towns I had heard good things about from folks on the road in past weeks. I felt optimistic. We were out of breakfast items so we dropped into town again hoping to have more luck than last night. We found a corner cafe booth and I had an empanada before going across the street to the panadería to get something sweet. Felt like a kind in a candy store with so many breaded treats not known to me, pointing "I'll have that one!" I grabbed a stack of tortillas from the squeaky machine at the tortillería down the road and was so distracted by the way it was spitting them out one by one, I had to ask twice how much it was. 10 tortillas, 16 pesos. Soft, warm and supple. The road was good out of town and there was grass along the road of many brilliant shades of green. Something about it reminded me of the summer before and the shrubs on the hill almost looked like sagebrush if ...

On our last full day in the states, I met with Zach Plopper, Conservation Director at Wildcoast. But before I did so, I walked out onto the pier, which is directly across the street from their Imperial Beach office. On the pier, I watched the surfers bob up and down waiting for a good break, the evening beachgoers shaking out their towels, a few folks fishing off the pier and if I wasn't mistaken, a seal poke its head out and dive quickly under. Wildcoast had scheduled thier 16th Annual Dempsey Holder Ocean Festival and Surf Competition for the week before, an event designed to draw attention to trans-border ocean pollution, but ironically had to postpone it to the following Saturday because of a sewage spill from Tijuana. Wildcoast itself spans both borders with offices and staff from Oaxaca to La Paz, Ensenada to San Diego. Poised to enter Mexico the following day, I was curious to know more about this dynamic and their efforts to protect marine life and coastline that exists irr...

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...

Saturday night in Guerrero Negro was a real party. Or at least it sounded like it. Cars rolled by blasting their stereos until sunrise. Lots of singing, and later on, the distinctive tinkle of a piss on the fence nearby. The stray cats enjoyed being mystified by our tent netting again and again. We slept in a little and after eating, went to get water at the neighborhood filling station "La Gota del Desierto." We placed our various bottles on the counter and the man behind glass filled them. When I asked "Que vale?" and pulled out my wallet, a man behind me with an empty jug stepped in front of me and placed a 5 peso coin on the counter and smile. It was his gift. We thanked him kindly and wished him a good day as we left. He said a sort of prayer for us that went something like "May all you wish for be granted." Little did we know how right he was. We made our way to the Bus station. Asked a few people and it ended up being about a mile and a half ...

There was a lot of activity in the night. People shuffling their boots by in the dirt, opening gates, passing trucks, and lots of dogs barking. At 5ish, the rooster we were camping by began its crowing (its name is Kikiriki, according to Roberto). We slept through it as best we could. By dawn I emerged and Lluc had already gone to find the baño in the house. I was right after him (we keep a pretty tight schedule here...). When we were about ready to pull out, Roberto came by to feed the chickens and see us off. We noticed he had a chicken foot tied to his belt. For luck? Who knows. We gave him our card so he could see the photos we post (even if he can't read the blogs) and he gave us a fond farewell saying that I translated to "May it all go well and the gods watch over you." I hope so too. Blanca called out adios as we rode out onto the highway. It was 40km to the next town, Rosarito, the second Rosarito we've been through (repeated names seem to be pretty comm...

Another one of those days where it seems impossible to relate all that occurred... It was hard even to recall where we woke up this morning. Probably because we never really got to sleep.  The wind that howled all yesterday afternoon increased in ferocity at dusk and did not wane all night. Even though we were out of the direct wind on the porch of the old cabana, the air was still blustery and the thatching thrashed all night. It was too hot to zip up a sleeping bag, and we hadn't set up our tents so I slept on a tarp with the bag unzipped. At 5am when our alarms rang and we started packing, I discovered sand inside the bag and all over the top of me, blown the by the wind. We assembled gear for roughly 45 minutes before the horizon even began to glow. We wanted an extra early start today so we could attempt what we anticipated being a challenging day, out of the heat. The challenge lay in uncertainty. Today was the day the road was supposed to end. But where it would ceas...