Paradise? Baja Norte

Looking at maps and planning

We hoped to find pulpo or juvenile octopus in the morning after a family who was fishing near us the previous night told us they were easy to collect under rocks. Unfortunately the tide was in so we had to settle for a quick dip in the ocean before packing up camp and heading south.

Brian satisfies a craving and dives into the Pacific

Massive agriculture started in Camalu and continued through San Quintin. San Quintin produces the most tomatoes in Mexico and nearly all are exported to the US. Massive hot houses stretched to the horizon. We passed acres of prickly pear plantations and fields of strawberries. Good old Driscoll’s down in Mexico. The scale of production was mindboggling, reminiscent of the Central Valley in California.

We picked up more food in San Quintin, accidentally paying 10 pesos to enter a clothing market that we thought was a food market. After some confused driving and a few stops to ask for directions we finally made it to the market we were originally looking for.

In El Rosario we stopped in at Mama Espinozas to ask what time they opened in the morning because Hannah told us they had the best lobster burritos in Baja. Hannah also informed us that Mama Espinoza served as a pioneering figure in the area, helping bring the first health clinics and offering a sort of refuge for travelers heading down the peninsula. After El Rosario, Highway 1 winds through a huge swath of rugged desert, travelers would check in with Mama Espinoza before heading south and check back in when they made it back. Additionally Mama Espinoza was a proponent of growing the Baja 5000 race, helping the race become the spectacle it is today.

Brian celebrating

As I poked my head in the door, I saw that it was the fourth quarter in the Seahawks-Packers NFC Championship game. I ran out to get Brian, a huge Seahawk fan and we ended up watching the exciting end of the game with chip, salsa, and cold Pacificos

Brian was stoked while I lay dejected after the Seahawk victory. Gathering the group, we headed out to Punta Baja a small fishing village we had seen on the map.

 

Group shot on the way to Punta Baja

We made it to the village and asked some folks who were milling about if it was OK for us to camp on what looked like a couple of deserted lots. They said of course and we had our spot, on top of rocky conglomerate cliffs overlooking a beautiful point break. We jumped out on the beach picking up a handful of interesting looking snails and brought them back to camp. I walked over to one of the central three houses on the point and approached a large group of folks to ask if they were good to eat.

View from our spot, notice the perfect point break

They shushed me and told me to put them down and eat with them. (I would learn later that the white shelled snails were in fact quite tasty, caracoles). They insisted that I feast on fresh cheviche, an almejas (clam) salad, and a tomato based seafood stew with fresh octopus, crab, and fish. I was humbled by the kindness of these wonderful people. Alfondero, a boisterous, powerfully built man, insisted I have an ice cold Tecate with them. Alfondero and his good friend Macoy, had a great time ribbing me about everything they could, they laughed at my shorts and started my initiation in Mexican slang. I understood a good portion of their jabs but some were totally new words. Machine, verga, and the words went on and on. I tried to keep up and threw back some of my own jabs, which they loved

Marlin, Alfondero’s better half, kindly explained many of the words, and welcomed me into their family. Macoy and Alfondero were friends for many years and Punta Baja was Alfondero’s home village. Punta Baja has only three permanent families who currently live there. Two families run small kitchens that cater to 50 or more fishermen who come from El Rosario and the surrounding areas to fish daily. They cook lunch and sell a variety of tobacco products, sweets, and snacks for the fishermen. The third family consists of a retiree and the expert tortilla maker who makes tortillas for both the kitchens

New friends

So much kindness

Alfondero had spent many years fishing in the area and seven years diving for abalone and living on a remote island off the point. Marlin’s mother and step father Ali, who live in Los Angeles area were there along with along with Alfondero’s parents. Ali was an Iranian immigrant to the US who ended up stuck in the US after the Revolution in Iran. An older, mellow soul, he spoke excellent English and understood Spanish. He was a calming complement to the wild and loud Alfondero and Macoy.

After twenty minutes I was feeling bad that the boys were at camp thinking about what to make so I explained that I needed to get them and make food with them. The ladies brushed off that suggestion insisting that they all come over and share their food. They were having a party that night and they wanted us to come. We pitched in a little money for beer and I brought the rest of the lads over to feast.

LOBSTER!!

We couldn’t believe our luck, piles of fresh seafood and incredible company. There was a crew of young ones, aka Josh’s specialty; in no time, six kids were tearing after an exhausted Josh, attacking him with a plastic shark. They were merciless, running him ragged. We thought the first three dishes were dinner but no, they proceeded to pull out a massive pan heating up a mixture of butter and oil. Into the cauldron of hot oils, they started placing fresh caught lobsters. Lobster after lobster was cut and tossed in the oil, the meat side seasoned with salt and pepper and finally garnished with a hefty squeeze of lime. Each was served with a hot fresh tortilla

After eating two and a half lobsters, I was stuffed, we couldn’t believe it, they kept encouraging us to eat more and more, and the lobsters kept coming. Ridiculous. Later they asked if we wanted to see the butchering of the borrrego (lamb or sheep), that would be the centerpiece of the feast for tomorrow. I felt like I was back on our little farm as we watched the cook tie up the legs and start bleeding out the sheep. It doesn’t come much fresher than that. After a night full of beer, lobster, and wonderful company we finally retired to our beds

Unreal arches

Unbelievable vistas

We decided that we ought to stay on another day for the lamb feast. Brian, James, and Josh got out on the perfect point break, while I took a hike with the young ones, Marlyn, and her sister Laura. Then we proceeded to fish in the secluded cove that Punta Baja sits above. They fed me freshly cooked caracoles with lime, hot sauce, and salt and I headed out on a trek all the way around the point, exploring rocky caves, arches, and the best tide pools I have ever seen. Looping back over the headland I finished the hike trekking down a small canyon with a multitude of interesting plants and lichen; at least four different species hung from rocks, cacti, and bushes.

Soup with the young 'uns

Upon returning, we all stopped in for a delicious bowl of lamb soup with the families before they headed back to Ensenada and their current homes. Bellies full and hearts full, we rolled out our sleeping bags and made camp. We brought a flour sifter down with us with the intention of using it for water purification. During the first week of packing and unpacking the suburban we had started a bin for extraneous items. We felt like it might be good to see if the main cooks who had been doing a ton of work behind the scenes, if they wanted the sifter. I went over to ask and when I arrived, Julia insisted that I come in for a cup of coffee. I sat down with Julia and her husband Carlos along with one other couple from the village.

The tortilla maker had suffered a series of incredibly horrendous accidents and had lost use of one arm and was still the best tortilla maker in the area, she and her husband were interesting folks. Each had experienced some serious hardship, with her husband suffering a stroke early in life leaving him with only one arm to use. He spent his life moving and collecting rocks all day, toting bags over 50 kilos with one hand!

After an hour or so of catching up and listening to stories, I was exhausted. I begged leave of them so that I could head back to camp and pass out. The tortilla making couple asked me to wait a moment because they wanted to give us a ling cod that they had caught that day. Flabbergasted I waited while they brought back an eight pound fish

Late night filleting

Julia kept thanking us for the sifter, which she was excited to use to make empanadas. I was just overwhelmed by the kindness that each of the families showed. If you ever need to find faith in humans or the human condition, simply start traveling and talking with people, they truly are amazing

In the morning we parted ways with Punta Baja with our filets of ling cod. It was Brian’s 24^th birthday so we picked up some tequila and unbeknownst to Brian, some nice tequila and postres or desserts from the market in El Rosario. From El Rosario the road snakes upward climbing into the mountains. We had plans on staying in the Catavina area, in the center of Parque National del Desierto Centro de Baja California. As we gained elevation tan granite boulders started appearing and as we neared Catavina, they filled the valley. Pulling off on a random road we found an exquisite camping spot and started making lunch. We made exquisite mango-ling cod tacos. Josh, James, and I headed on a short bouldering hike and returned to get Brian to come out and join the desert fun.

Birthday boy

The granite boulder piles in Catavina are similar to the rosy granite that you see in Joshua Tree National Park and in the San Bernadino mountains. We crossed the desert towards some of the largest piles squatting down to peer at tiny desert flowers and desiccated cactus, admiring their holey appearance. Stately elephant trees with squat trunks and peeling bark filled many crevices in the boulders. Even stranger, cirios or Boojum trees stood erect with twiggy branches covered in leaves, however, each branch was no more than twelve inches long and some of the trees stood over 40 feet tall. Some cirios toppled over, hanging in Seussical fashion. 

That is one good looking dude

With the tan granite boulders catching the light and massive cardon cacti (closely related to our Saguaros) framing the landscape the entire scene was darn near unbeatable. James described the vista as Dr. Seuss on a crazy acid trip. We climbed to the top of the biggest boulder pile, making our way through caves and across tiny spines of rock. At the top we munched on a bag of almonds, dried pears, and oranges all washed down with our favorite dill pickle water, bullshitting away. As a collective croup we are pretty darn good at that.

The strange cirios or boojum tree

Climbing rocks

Crazy boulders, plants, and light. A product of Dr. Seuss' imagination?

At camp we made cumin beans to go with chili powder, garlic, pepper, salt and flour dusted ling cod, all garnished with lime. Muy sabroso, as in delicious! Drinking tequila next to a small fire put a perfect accent on an excellent day.

The following morning we packed up and headed into Catavina after a narrow escape from our campsite. The desert sand was trying to keep us in place but with some pushing and deft driving we made it out. In Catavina we stopped for a loaf of bread and noticed water flowing across the road. Exploring up a rocky canyon, we found fan palms and lush greenery, an oasis standing in stark contrast to the rugged desert. Eventually we found the source, water popping out of a spring and we filled our water buckets.

Josh made me cry in laughter during our drive south. When Josh was nine, his parents planned a trip to Hawaii and completely surprised him, fooling him all the way into the airport. What did Josh do when he found out the family was going to Hawaii? He promptly puked.

Best,
  Elliott

More Photos:

 

Oceanside Occupancy and Mexico!

In our natural habitat

Urban camping at Mike and Megan's

 Crossing the desert to Oceanside, California, we had one nerve-wracking stop when we thought we heard an odd noise. Upon getting underneath the car we thought we saw transmission fluid leaking, however, after a call to our mechanic back home who fixed up the transmission, we were reassured that in fact the overflow we saw was fine and our fluid was at the right level. Crisis averted, we carried on, rolling into Oceanside, California and our friend Mike Archbold’s house at 7 pm

While Mike had a nasty fever and felt terrible, he mustered up energy and showed us around downtown where we stopped for a beer at Stone Brewing. Afterwards we headed to his favorite bar for another. It is amazing how good friends can pick up right where they left off; the night was filled with laughter over stories of the past and present. Across the street we grabbed huge burritos, bid Mike goodnight and headed out on the pier to eat. Brian was a kid in a candy store, he saw the ocean and freaked out, giggling in excitement over all the perfect looking waves and the surfers who were out night surfing.

Brian, Dave, and James with the boards

After a night of urban camping in Mike and Megan’s driveway (Mike’s girlfriend), our next day was dedicated to our last remaining errands. We found some used surfboards at Real Surf where Josh made friends with the owners six year-old, running all around the store with her as the rest of us found the deals we were looking for. The owner was a helpful man who led us to a great long board and a wide fish board design giving us an excellent package deal. If you’re ever in Oceanside this is the surf shop to hit (trust us we stopped at corporate Surf and Ride followed by a stop in the small shop across the way where an acid burnout tried to rip us off, pricing a terrible long board out for $250. Dave? at Real Surf Dave does great work and is not looking to put you out on the street.)

At Autozone and Carquest we picked up a kill switch, extra belts, cables for the back tailgate, and extra transmission fluid. At RadioShack we purchased an AC to DC converter. In a dive shop we found a Hawaiian Sling. At Home Depot we bought a cable lock, duct tape, and made extra keys. Gathering our new items, we started packing everything at Mike’s and cracked some of Josh’s excellent ciders. Brian, James, and I decided to get burgers at Mike’s favorite burger joint, Ty’s, for our last meal in the U.S. Ty is a friendly man who spent a few years in Bend and was nice enough to give me a free beer, what a guy. The western bacon cheese burger with haystack onions on it was superb. After some last calls to Mom, Dad, and the little man (Ian), I joined Brian, Mike, and Megan inside.

Josh's position for the day

Meanwhile, Josh was out on the town catching up with some high school friends. Josh came in at 11 pm in fine form, Brian and I sensed a rough morning coming, Josh assured us that would not be the case. In the morning, according to plan we rose at 5 am to get over the border early. Josh was in classic Josh form, let’s just say he did not do too much packing of the car and spent most of the time unpacking his belly. The car loaded, we headed to Tecate based on advice from Hanna Eckert my dear co-counselor from this past summer (she bequeathed us a treasure trove of information Baja information- more on that later). Driving through the desert was stunning, recent rains left the desert verdant and the rolling hills revealed copious granite boulders. The sights left Brian, James and I exclaiming in excitement while Josh silently appreciated the vistas

At the border we stopped to reconnoiter, purchasing Mexican car insurance and checking off our final boxes. We crossed the border, enduring an extremely cursory inspection of the car (all our canned and dried goods from home made it over!) and without showing our passports we were over. “Wooooeee!” we whooped, the trip was happening.

As Brian navigated the streets we tried to follow signs towards Ensenada but ended up turned around. Upon realizing our mistake we had our welcome to Mexico moment. As we were about to turn around Brian noticed that a motorcycle cop had pulled out behind us with its lights on

“Shoot, pull over to the side,” James suggested. We were all on edge as a pudgy cop stepped off his motorcycle and sauntered up to the door

“Do you know why I stopped you? Y hablas espanol?” he asked.

“No se, y si,” I replied. In broken English and some Spanish he claimed that we had not stopped fully behind a crosswalk while a person was on the far side walking over, and he claimed we were not wearing our seat-belts. We showed him that we were in fact wearing our seat-belts and confusedly tried to figure out what had happened. We were a bit discombobulated having been caught off guard, we asked how much the ticket was. He suggested that it would probably be about 700 pesos or 60 dollars. We were not stoked. He said that we could follow him back to the police station. Stopping short of the station on the side of the road, he returned to our car and coolly asked if we “understood things” in Mexico. Brian in the drivers’ seat did not catch that he was intimating, that he would not give us a ticket for the right price. He asked us how much money we had, having just crossed the border Brian had $11 dollars US and I had a $5, we told him that we had $11. As he hemmed and hawed, explaining that we could take our chances with the judge, that it would take a few hours, Brian slowly picked up the drift that he was suggesting a bribe would be best. Josh and I jumped in, explaining that I had an extra 5 dollars but 16 dollars was all that we had. Finally, he agreed that that would be enough. He proceeded to give us directions to get out of town (as we were definitely on the wrong track initially!)

Frazzled, we slowly got our bearings while making some more wrong turns and finally heading out into the country. The beauty of the desert slowly brought our minds off the shake down and back to the moment at hand. Crossing desert washes and large valleys planted with wine and table grapes we headed towards Ensenada

In Ensenada we parked the rig and Brian, James, and I headed into town to find a bank, we needed money. Trekking through town, we were offered free drinks, free massages, and free girls, the joys of gringo filled tourism. Turning them down with smiles, we claimed to be headed into the monastery, which brought some smiles. After getting the money we rushed out of the gringo tourist trap as fast as we could, filling up the tank on the far side of town.

Cruising through the desert once more, we stopped and picked up vegetables and fruit at an abborretes, or small grocery store in San Vincent.  In Colonet we took a side road that we knew headed to the coast and meandered out to a gorgeous point where we set up camp. Brian was stoked on the waves, James and Josh were stoked on a beautiful camping spot, and I was stoked on the wildly diverse desert. With an incredible sunset and even better company we went to bed happy campers.

Not a bad view

Best,
    Elliott

Southbound and Out

All of us together, FINALLY!

Utterly elated, relieved, and rejuvenated we phoned James when we knew the car was ready and told him to get ready! We were out! We tossed all our junk in the car and finally jetted out of Corvallis around 10:30 pm with Tahoe in our sights. Navigating cloying banks of fog and steep passes we cruised through the night, rolling into Tahoma, CA in the late morning sunshine

James and his girlfriend, Meghan, have a little love loft nestled amongst massive cedars and ponderosa pines eight blocks West of sapphire-blue Lake Tahoe. With a bathroom, quite literally a one butt kitchen, and a small room with a tiny loft it does not take much from the woodstove to heat their nest.  As we parked the car, a slightly hung-over James Teeter, replete with pajama pants and bleary eyes meandered out of the house

“LET’S GET PACKED!” Brian, Josh, I excitedly exclaimed.

“Whoa” James replied, “Let’s just chill out for a moment.” After a cup of coffee we headed out on an allegedly “half-mile” hike down to the lake. An hour and a half later we were back at the cabin laughing and relaxed, the majestic pine forests and pristine water rekindled our sense of purpose. We did not need to be rushing. Nature reminded us to enjoy the moment.

While we were a week and a half behind schedule, we were together and in exactly the right place. We quickly realized that our roof rack needed a few modifications so James and I scurried off to the plumbing office to cut and rethread our galvanized pipe. A few hours later after bolting pipe to the car and sealing with Lock-Tight, our roof rack was ready and our gear was organized and loaded into the car. 

Organized in boxes

All the gear

We stopped to say a quick goodbye to Ms. Meghan, James’ lovely lady, at Alpenglow outdoor gear shop where her boss pulled out a bottle of Fireball and encouraged us to take a swig for the road. James, the driver, abstained and the rest of us drank a little liquid courage and off we rolled down to Bridgeport hot springs in the eastern Sierra-Nevada.

After a couple hour soak in the springs, my hands resembled my great-grandfathers’ so we headed back up the steep hill and camped for the night. The temperature dropped to the low teens and we were damn cold. Nobody slept well and we packed up as fast as we could in the morning and cruised towards Bishop, CA.

In Bishop, James, Josh, and I took a trip down memory lane, stopping at Josh’s favorite Chevron to fill the gas tank and at Joseph’s market to grab some food. This time Josh chose not to purchase any Peach Snaps and was able to hold it together at the Chevron. Always a good sport, Josh posed for some photos.

Josh at his favorite Gas Station

Best,
    Elliott

Failure to Launch

Corvallis, Oregon sits an hour and a half south of Portland, Oregon in the heart of the bucolic Willamette Valley. Situated on the edge of the Coast Range, Corvallis is 45 minutes from the rugged Oregon coast and an hour and a half from the stunning Cascade Mountains. The Willamette Valley itself is blessed with deep loamy soils. These soils were deposited when ice dams on prehistoric Lake Missoula periodically broke, sending torrents of water rushing from Montana to Oregon, forming the Columbia River Gorge and turning the entire Willamette Valley into a backwater. These soils support a diverse and successful agricultural industry. The Valley is the backbone of Oregon’s grass seed and nursery industry and Oregon is the world’s largest exporter of each. Additionally, the Willamette valley produces a multitude of small fruits (shout out to Papa Bear Finn!) and other produce. Corvallis is a magical town, with a burgeoning farmers market and bike lanes on 96% of its roads. The city has been rated as the safest city in the country in terms of natural disaster potential and crime and consistently ranks highly on lists of the top ten most livable places in the U.S. Oregon State University is located in Corvallis and is one of few (3?, 4?) land, sea, air, and space grant institutions in the country. The campus is filled with lush greenery and is one of the most beautiful around. Josh, Brian, James, and I met in McNary Residence Hall on campus

BUT we hate Corvallis. What? How? To the reader Corvallis sounds like heaven. However, after getting stuck in Corvallis for a week and a half Brian, Josh, and I were done with Corvallis. Let’s rewind.

On Friday, January 4^th, Josh and Brian met in Scappoose, Oregon where the Burb has been living for the last few months. Joel, the mechanic whom we were working with in Scappoose gave the vehicle back to them and said that after looking over everything, we only needed to replace a right caliper to keep the car from pulling to the right. Thanks Joel! They made the repair and packed up the Burb, putting our gear, our hopes, and our enthusiasm into the car. They drove onto I-5 only to have our hopes of fixed brakes quickly dashed. Turns out, the brakes were still pulling to the right way too hard. With some consternation Brian and Josh pulled into Corvallis where we were lucky enough to have a have a send off dinner with a variety of excellent friends and family. After saying our goodbyes we were left in a classic car jam. The next day was Sunday. No one is open on Sunday. 

Frustrated, we packed up as much as we could and readied an escape plan. We would get the car in ASAP on Monday, have tire issues remedied, have the  brakes sorted, and have a mechanic take a quick look at a starting issue and in no time we would be on the road. Or so we hoped.

Upon calling my good mechanic friend, Jack Hurley, he offered some recommendations on the right people to look at the rig. Of course his two recommendations were busy until Thursday, way too slow for us. Luckily, the second man recommended we head to J and H Auto in Tangent, OR. Thank goodness for his recommendation because we connected we talked with our soon to be savior, Jason. We explained our troubles and he said he would be able to get a look at the car the next day. A small delay we thought. We were sure we would be fixed up and headed to Lake Tahoe to pick up our fourth compadre, James Teeter in a day or two.

On the way to the mechanic we stopped by South Pacific Tires in Albany where our dear friend Mark Yeager met us and introduced us to Gary, a real chip off the old block. Mixing crude jokes with a brusque manner, Gary and his crew looked over our tires and kindly suggested that we replace two of them with decent tires, our 8-ply worn tires were going to be no match for the journey ahead. After some hemming and hawing we, intelligently upon a week of driving in Baja experience, decided to purchase the better tires. Gary was kind enough to put up with our cheap-butts and gave us an incredible deal on tires that will hopefully keep us safe and sound throughout our trip!

After dropping off the car with Jason and explaining the situation, we headed to run errands in Corvallis. One day turned into two days turned into three days. As it turned out, Joel hung us out to dry. Not only was there issues with the brakes and starting, but we also had a sneaky leaking gasket head, burning through 4 quarts after 100 miles of driving. He spied a hole in the air filter compartment among some other small fixes. All were issues we had been counting on Joel to check over. What a learning experience for us, fleeced by a shoddy mechanic. Fortunately, Jason identified the issues and went above and beyond our expectations.

Jason first believed our trouble was with the mass air flow intake, after some more tinkering he diagnosed the issue as one dealing with the distributor. Finally, Jason figured out that our computer was at fault. However, to understand the skill required to do this, you have to understand that the motor doesn’t match the car which doesn’t match a ton of the other parts in our car… meaning Jason had to sort through a clusterF*&^ of moving pieces and parts to get down to the Heart of the Matter as Don Henley might intone. 

Jason when he first saw the car... Ah the surprises to come

In addition to the general difficulty that our car presented, Jason’s shop went a person down when a relative passed away unexpectedly. While Jason tinkered and diagnosed, we slowly went crazy in Corvallis.

The first two days of delay were a blessing as we ran a variety of errands and gathered our final items. However, by Thursday we were antsy. Heck we were a whole colony of ants ansty! We wanted the car and had no more tasks to do in Corvallis. 

“I am soo sick of Corvallis. I love it here but I have never, ever wanted to leave so badly,” Josh exclaimed every few hours. 

We eventually accepted the reality of the situation, Jason was fixing the car and it would be done as soon as it was done. Learning lesson, be careful when purchasing a worked on used car with odd features.

Strawberry Hill

By Friday we were toasted. We wanted to be headed south! We were tired of calling James and despondently muttering, “well we hope we’ll be there tomorrow…” Luckily Corvallis truly does live up to all the superlatives used early in this post. On Saturday we headed out to the coast with my parents for some morning tide-pooling at Strawberry Hill followed by afternoon mushroom hunting in the misty coast range. We found enough hedgehogs (dentinum repandum) and yellowfoot chanterelles (cantharellus tubeformensis) to make some tasty venison-sautéed ‘shroom quesadillas! We finished the weekend with a couple rounds of disc golf. At that point we were ready. So ready. SO SO ready. 

On Tuesday evening with Jason working his butt off until 7 30pm, we got the car. When Jason gave us the rundown, we couldn’t have been more excited. He was able to magic the car together and get us on the road. If you ever need anything done, there is not a harder working, generous, and knowledgeable mechanic in the Corvallis, Albany, Tangent area. Jason fixed the big issues and dealt with all the small issues, even encouraging us to call him if we run into trouble on the road. Jason is a true class act.

Jason after finishing our car late in the evening! Thanks so much!

Best,
   Elliott