Hot & cold with highs & glows….

We’ve spent the majority of our time in the Baja bouncing from coast to coast looking for weather that was warm but not killer hot and for waves. I know it’s hard to imagine, but this is easier said than done. When you live in a van, weather is paramount. Nonetheless we have been enjoying tacos, all the wonderful people, and all the wild scenery along the way. The Pacific is still pretty chilly and the June gloom hangs around until about noon everyday. Puerto Santo Thomas, set upon rocky cliffs with plenty of tide pools to explore, was beautiful and isolated, the wind howled and the marine layer was thick. Erendira, with its long sandy beaches between the cliffs, was bustling with Baja 500 racers pre running the course. It was also the perfect setting to install the new thermostat that Dolores kept hinting that she needed. El Socorrito was a hopeful stop for waves. Hopeful only goes so far and instead we explored the white sandy beach, dunes and tide pools and watched a beautiful sunset over the sea.

The next morning we put some miles under our belt and booked it for Bahia de los Angeles.  The Sea of Cortez side proved to be wonderful; the water was warmer and it was hot during the day. For waves we traded awesome sunrises, sunsets and so much marine life to explore in the bay. One evening after a very colorful sunset we were looking at the sky full of stars and heard whales surfacing while they were cruising around the bay. Had it been daylight we surely would have seen them in the crystal clear water. Here we enjoyed the best tacos de pescado of the trip and I discovered barrilla con carne, a fabulous fresh beef soup served with onions and cilantro.  Until then I’d been hooked on our discovery in Ensenada, tacos de cabeza.  The glassy water of the bay could only hold us for so long.

Heading back to the Pacific side, Dolores made up her mind that we were going to have a cultural experience instead of search for waves. Her temp went up following our first beach drive and right as we were pulling on to the point of Santa Rosalillita. After exploring this issue, we discovered the coolant level sensor cap missing, leaving a gaping hole in the reservoir. Since there were no issues driving on the highway, we assumed it was lost on the bumpy road in and decided to walk the few mile stretch we’d just driven to see if perhaps we’d be lucky and find it. No such luck. When we returned to the van on the desolate stretch of coast, there was a car parked next to us with chairs and umbrellas set up. From the two couples one of the men approached us and asked if we had any spoons and then insisted that we join them.  Although we tried to explain that we needed to work on fixing the van, he persisted that the clam ceviche that he just made was a higher priority at the moment.  We sat with his wife and his parents and enjoyed cocos con limon, ceviche, picante nuts, tecate light and learning about one another. George learned how to say and kept repeating, “Yo puedo estar mas feliz/I could not be happier.” When we said our goodbyes, they gave us all the food they had prepared and invited us to their home in Guerrero Negro for dinner the following evening and reminded us that now we were their friends. Another testament to the wonderful people of Mexico.

The fix to the van was pretty great – George gets major points for this one. It includes: the cap to the epoxy, about an inch of surfboard repair epoxy, the last of our 3M plastic adhesive, the flattest rock that could be found, paper towel, duct tape, and finally zip ties. And of course, it worked like a charm.

The next morning we headed off to a beautiful surf spot that finally had the waves that George was looking for with some amazing art from other frequent visitors. Deciding that we’d rather make the push to San Ignacio that afternoon, we headed back to the highway, stopped for tacos and painfully pushed through the hot afternoon drive.  San Ignacio stole our hearts with its classic shaded town square, camping along el Arroyo, shady palm trees and big Mexican and Canadian breakfasts. A true oasis in the vast desert of Baja.

Excited to get back to the beach, we headed toward Bahia Concepcion stopping at Mulege along the way. By the time we got there it was so hot we stopped at the first spot that had access to the water, Playa Santispac. A lovely little sandy beach with palapas, for some much needed shade, and a little restaurant serving strong margaritas. A super hot paradise. In the morning we went diving for clams and scallops, and a swim with the fish. Word on the street was there was a south swell coming in so it was time to get moving to San Juanico. After a little fit from Dolores about the heat, which we totally understood, we were hot too, we decided to call it a day at Puerto Escondido.  A swim in the pool and free margs with dinner was just the thing to cure the heat of the day.  We awoke in the morning to 97 bug bites between the two of us, but that didn’t stop us from an early departure for San Juanico. The bee that flew up my shorts while driving and stung me near my unmentionables did put a small pause in the drive. The welt from the sting is about the size of a baseball and I’m not sure there is enough hydrocortisone cream in the world to battle the itching.

San Juanico/Scorpion Bay is all it’s made out to be with the southern swell and George is enjoying the surf. Falling asleep to the sound of the waves again is nice, in almost makes the 97 bug bites not itch. All in all, the weather is warm and life is good.

See additional photos here.

a dream realized...

So once again we entered Mexico; the first time we had been beaten - primarily by our own stupidity, over confidence and lust for adVANture.  This time we tried with all our might to plan, re-plan, check and re-check plus dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s.  Well we made it beyond our first attempt by a good 15KM(about 8 miles) and then we pulled over…

This time we pulled off the road and into a RV parking lot that happened to be in front of a right point break that is consistently rated as one of the “best most consistent point breaks in all of Baja.”  I was starting to freak out; the swell had picked up a bit, the wind was offshore and glassy head high plus waves kept peeling down the line with only about 6 guys in the water.  I had to tell myself to soy tranquillo; as I have learned that enthusiasm, while being one of my strongest character traits can also lead to irrational decision making and I was about to get into some of the biggest surf of the trip so far.

I made myself a cup of espresso and then I sat on the point and watched the waves until that coffee was gone.  Dudes were ripping; airs, cutbacks, and a few mini-barrels.  I was about to be the biggest kook in the water; essentially, the guy in the way, smiling like an idiot, getting caught inside and probably the most stoked.  Being from Colorado has its perks as we don’t have waves and as a result most waves that the others pass on are pretty much everything we need and want in a wave.

I went back to the van to find Rach passed out on the lower bunk with a bit of a cold and began to de-wax my 6-8 single fin hull that I picked up at Mollusk in San Francisco.  Coming from SF the board was covered in Cold Temp wax and was literally melting off in the warmer water of Southern California. I re-waxed it with cool-warm wax, threw on my wetsuit and headed off to the point to try and make my way into the lineup.

Just getting into the water was sketchy; the shore bottom was covered in large cobblestones coated with moss/seaweed/green extremely slick stuff, crashing waves and the occasional urchin for the first 20 feet into the water until it was deep enough to paddle.  I made my way out and again, sat and watched the waves break.  Then I positioned myself a bit inside to pick off a smaller wave; I caught one and immediately realized my mistake (in addition to catching the first set wave.) While surfing down the line, the wave and I were headed for a rock about the size of a Volkswagen bug – I kicked out the back in a panicked maneuver that landed me in the direct impact zone of the next 3-4 larger waves.  I paddled and duck-dived, but I ended up almost right back on the rocks where I started.

…I paddled back out, sat and waited and watched.  Gradually, I rotated into the lineup with the 5 other guys and then got a couple decent waves.  Super stoked, I headed right back into the lineup and watched the dudes get some really good waves from the top of the point.  By no action of my own I got sucked by the current into top of the point position and then paddled right into the biggest wave of my life.

Overhead and terrifying I raced my little single fin hull down the line as the wave walled up in front of me, I made it through a section of white wash, let the wave wall up again, trimmed down the face in a crouch, a dude “yewwwww’d!!” at me, carried plenty of speed through the flats to get past the Volkswagen bug rock where the wave re-formed at a second point, finally trimmed up and down a bit and then kicked out the back.  Legs shaking, shit eating grin and the little kid in me screaming, “do it again, do it again” I headed straight back to the point.