Es-cape-ing Reality

On top of the Cerro looking South from Cabo Fraile

It was tough to say goodbye to our acoustically ideal spot but we wanted to get out to calmer waters and more spear fishing. We left our burned out Villa and set our sights on more bumpy roads, clunking along the washboard, hurricane washed out, East Cape Road towards Cabo Fraile. 

 Motoring past more massive mansions, separated by idyllic hills overlooking the Pacific Ocean, we continued to spot whales breathing in the distance, sometimes pointing their flukes skyward and diving deep for scrumptious mouthfuls of krill. 

East Cape Road going towards Cabo Fraile

Cabo Fraile is a large crescent bay accented by a large cerro or hill on the South side. The middle of the arroyo was filled with campers staying for varying times. We went to the center heading down a road that looked promising. A multitude of fisherman surrounded a small cocina, or kitchen where a garrulous fellow tried to convince me that I needed a shark jawbone for 20 pesos. While it might have made a nice headplate for Arnold Marshawn Beast, I politely declined as we really didn’t need it. The boys spread out looking for camping and we found a secluded area with some beautifully shaded spots on the south side of the arroyo.

A nice couple from Michigan informed us that the price was free and the only rule was that dogs were not allowed. The rancher who apparently owns the land finds that dogs attract wild dogs and those feral dogs kill his calves! We decided not to tell them about Josh and thanked them for lending us a pail to pull up water from a local well

After lunch James and I jumped out in the bay with the Hawaiian Sling intent on bringing home dinner; food supplies were running low and we needed some protein. Luckily, with a national marine preserve to our South the waters were teeming with fish. James struck first putting the spear through a mystery fish, edible and good according to local fisherman but unidentifiable by our fish booklet. We happened upon a school of lisa and James went to work spearing fish whilst I held the fish against the sandy bottom while James dived down and put our dive knife through the top of the heads or through the gills with a twist. 

The fish were as wiggly as could be so we had to work in close synchronicity to make sure we secured our speared fish. Switching roles for a time, I took the spear and dove even with the school of lisa, around 8 ft down and waited patiently slowly swimming up to the school and shooting into their midst. 

First shot, one miss, second shot, another miss, third shot, yet another miss, finally on my sixth or seventh sling, I hit a fish! I was not prepared for the quick wiggle as the fish shot off the spear and rejoined the school. I patiently dove again finally spearing the midsection of a fish and pinning it to the sandy bottom. James dove down to secure the kill and we added her to our home fashioned creel, a nylon rope piece with an old hose clamp tied to the end. Makeshift but effective, we hauled our load out of the water and onto shore. James resumed hunting while I presided over our catch, shooing off persistent seagulls and pesky pelicans. 

The catch

Eventually we had plenty of fish, six lisa and one unidentified grouper and we returned to camp de-scale our catch and filet them. As we started filleting, Doug and company cruised into camp in a beautiful van outfitted for anything. High clearance, solar panel on top, pop top, massive black PVC pipe shower tank on one side, and tons of space to boot made the rig one of our dreams. James and I jealously eyed the van while Doug jumped out to check out the fish. He mentioned that he was looking for some friends and he loved fish. He got out his identification book to help us figure our unidentifiable fish and while we failed again, an awesome conversation ensued. Doug and his family are from Ithaca, New York and are traveling indefinitely with their twoish and four year old, son and daughter respectively. They started four months ago and plan on traveling until they do not want to travel anymore. Doug's wife has her own company which somehow helps doctors navigate the world of new pharmaceutical drugs, we didn’t quite understand what she does but she is apparently able to run the company and schedule conferences from the road. When we met the family she was actually at one such conference back in the states for the week so it was just Doug and the kids, who were meeting up with some “friends” aka Doug’s mom and step-dad who were traveling in Baja with them. His parents happened to be camped right next to us. James and I ended up talking with Doug for an hour while Josh and Brian headed out to do some incredible snorkeling. We filled a bucket of saltwater with filets, to get them ready for the evening.

When Josh and Brian returned we started making dinner. We were our t of tortillas so we mixed up a fresh batch and started to roll them out when the pump on our stove went on the fritz. The leather gasket on the pump was too dry and not sealing so we started soaking it in motor oil.

While we took a break from cooking and I headed out to the beach and the classic beat of Shaggy’s “Angel” drew me over to a group of local fishermen. I felt the beat and started singing along and ended up meeting the fishermen. We bullshitted for a bit and I learned a new word, verraco, which essentially means horny young man, a good piece of slang to file away for future conversations. An arrow in my slang quiver!

Back at camp we turned the six lisa and one unidentified fish into fried fish tacos. Additionally we had cumin-thai chili spiced beans and Spanish rice along with large margaritas. We were happy campers once again.

Dinner!

The next day we wanted more fish so James and I headed out again with Brian. However, this time a fisherman worried for our health due to incoming fishing boats and asked us to move out of our prime fishing grounds. We thanked him and headed out to a different area which sadly lacked schools of lisa. Thus we only brought back four fish, still plenty for dinner. Feeling sun burnt and exhausted, James retired to camp whilst Josh and Brian who had been working on reorganizing the car, tightening screws in the car, and getting rid of unneeded items, went out beach golfing. I headed up the massive cerro or hill that overlooked the bay. The view from the top was astounding and I met some more awfully interesting folks, this time from Olympia and Port Townshend, Washington.

View of Cabo Fraile with an elephant tree in the foreground

On top of the Cerro

The next day we headed north to Santiago and further along to Agua Caliente only to be disappointed by the so called hot springs. This was the first time we paid to camp the entire trip and the hot springs were lukewarm at best. Despite these facts, I was secretly happy to be there as we planned on doing a small hike up the canyon into the Sierra de Laguna Mountains. I had dreamed of setting foot in these mountains because they allegedly held incredible diversity. As night fell we prepared Golden Curry, thanks to the Kusanto family in Portland! (Mama and Papa gave me the curry squares when I headed to Colorado last summer) 

We nestled in under fan palm woven shelters. A light rain fell all afternoon and we thanked the skies for tapering off as darkness fell. As the darkness came, the spiders came out. Thousands of daddy long legs spiders seemingly popped out of every nook and cranny. James became exterminator especial, smashing spiders left and right. They climbed up our legs while James claimed his extermination plan had an impact. The impact may have existed but their numbers were too great. Josh set up a hammock off the car whilst James, Brian and I set up tents to keep ourselves protected from crawling spiders. As we set up the tents a scorpion came right across the area we were planning on putting the tents. 

Rattlesnake friend

Once the tents were up, we retired to read. In the meantime a small rattle snake slithered across camp, climbing up one of our camp chairs. Whew, the gnarly poison triple threat; spiders, scorpions, and snakes!

The hike the next day exposed a staggering diversity of vegetation, we moved from cactus succulent zones, up through thorn forests and reached some stands of massive oaks- allegedly we would have hit pine forests, and eventually cottonwoods in the highest reaches had we continued. Along the river massive layers of white speckled granite dominated, surrounding layers of pressurized metamorphic rock. The granite would have been at home in Yosemite! Following the hike we headed towards La Paz where we had a ferry to catch!

Trekking up the river

Pretty, pretty

Josh the climber

Palm groves

Waterfall

Best,
   Elliott Finn

Vagabonding Deserted Villas

Views from the East Cape Road

The drive down the coast was stunning. On the left, the Sierra de Laguna Mountains stretched skyward; on the right we passed sand dunes, wide open stretches of the Pacific and massive resorts. Out in the water we spotted whale after whale. Grey and humpback whales blew CO2 into the sky after long dives. Occasionally the whales showed us their flukes before a deep dive. The first time it happened I almost did not believe it. 

 Brian exclaimed, “IT JUMPED. IT JUMPED!!”

He had seen a humpback fly out of the water and land. A few minutes later, I did not believe my eyes, watched as a massive creature hurtled out of the azure Pacific and came plummeting down. The splash, at least a mile distant, looked as if a bus or yaht had just crashed into the water with white froth spraying wide.

Arriving in Cabo San Lucas and San Jose del Cabo felt like having an ice bucket of water dumped down my neck. Row after row of ridiculously sized houses, hotels, and condos lined every buildable inch. Walmarts, Home Depots, and Office Maxs showed up. Mega, Soriano, and Telcel superstores, the Mexican analogs to Big Box X, Y, and Z in the US stole the remaining spaces.

In the sprawl of Cabo we neglected to make the right turn and eventually realized we were eight kilometers north of our desired exit. We turned around and began our slow search for the East Cape Road that Suzy had recommended. The dearth of signage made navigating the roads tough and we ended up on a gravel road heading the wrong direction. Luckily we spotted some construction and as per our usual routine, I jumped out to ask for directions. After a brief conference they pointed us in the right direction and we promptly followed a road to some sort of private resort area; the guard adamantly insisted that four filthy young men could not go on this road. With one more set of instructions we finally found our bumpy, rocky, and holey road. 

While Suzy said the East Cape Road was in good shape, we forgot that the recent intense hurricane had a big impact on Southern Baja. Thus much of the road was washed out and destroyed, making driving intense. It is safe to say we each lost a couple layers of enamel from our teeth. Despite the road’s rough condition, the scenery was the opposite; granite sand beaches with rocky basalt outcroppings filled the coastline.

A few kilometers down the road The Beast died! The choke light came on and Brian started the car up but I heard a strange buzzing noise

First real breakdown

Finished product

“Wait, wait, let’s look under the hood” I implored. As we stepped out and opened the hood, what we saw shocked us. Our air intake unit had entirely bounced off. Luckily the unit fell away from our main fan where it would have been obliterated. Wowza, we dodged a bullet. Pulling out the duct tape and some zip ties we cinched the air intake hose to the housing and attached the filter unit on tightly to its platform. 

 A few kilometers after Villa Zapatos we jangled past a deserted villa. We had to check it out. Sure enough, the two story, round walled, bleach white villa with blue tiled swimming pools and hot tubs was completely deserted. The windows and sliding glass doors had all been blown out, we assumed in the last hurricane. Someone stripped all of the copper wiring from the place, but on the whole the building was in good shape. Easy choice we agreed, we are staying here. Folks in fancy cars periodically stopped to gawk at our car as we set up camp.

Our deserted villa

Thus our true Cabo experience began. We drank margaritas in the [empty] pool on the second story overlooking the vast Pacific. We played danced to loud music and ate fresh, fancy seafood dishes. We had it all. Poorman’s Cabo that is; margaritas fashioned with cheap Country Time Lemonade mix, music flowing from our Altec portable speaker, acoustics of the building a lucky accident of architecture, dancing performed by four ragtag smelly dudes, and fresh, fancy seafood dish provided by ourselves, Josh and Brian, braving rough waves to snag a rockfish that James and I made into a tomato based seafood stew with noodles. We had no complaints after the beautiful night.
 

Our cooking, dancing, and sleeping quarters

The fancy bar

Dinner over the hot-tub

Sad to leave our villa

 Best,
    Elliott

Todos Santos!

It was hart to leave this

We packed up and headed back on the bumpy road back to Highway 1 and drove towards La Paz. We managed to get turned around and lost in La Paz but eventually found the road to Todos Santos. We picked up a hitchhiker, Ricardo, who was originally from Oaxaca but had come north for work. He said there was no work in Oaxaca. He helped his wife set up a restaurant in Ensanada while he headed south for farmwork, first to San Quintin and then to La Paz, working mainly with tomatoes and sometimes strawberries. His car was in the shop which was why he needed a ride to the farm he worked at, about thirty minutes towards Todos Santos.

Brian driving in Todos Santos

In Todos Santos we encountered our first scorching hot tropical type heat. Sweat poured from every pore on my body. We were determined to get internet to try and post an update on the blog so we ended up at Cafelix where lo and behold we sat down next to Morgan, a man who lives in Bend. While the internet was terrible, Morgan had some background in the area and gave us nuggets of useful information on where to stay for cheap and where to surf.

From downtown we went north to a free beach where we promptly met two more Oregonians! Angela and Michael are from Baker City most recently and Angela was part of OSU’s first graduating class of Environmental Science majors. She knew Pat Muir and we connected over our common colleagues and interests. Michael, the self described standoffish, quiet, and mysterious one, was actually hilarious and brought Josh’s back to Alaska. Michael reminded him of his boss up North and it turned out that Mike worked as a salmon buyer in Alaska every summer.  Mike and Angela had been raging at the Todos Santos Music Festival for the previous few days and were in recovery mode at the beach.

Mike and Angela!! Fellow Oregonians.

Initially Josh and I were stoked to get out in the water continue learning how to surf but the waves broad, bulky beasts, crashing over big rocks into a nasty steep beach. An old timer walked up to us warning that someone had broken a femur the preceding day, that these waves were serious. Josh and I declined to head out realizing that we valued our lives while Brian and James took up the reins. Alas James came back from surfing puking up some serious sea water that he took on after enduring a pummeling.

The next morning we left to Playa de Las Palmas, a beach we heard had a large palm grove and had less people than the beach we were currently at. After flipping a few U-ies on the highway and driving past the entrance we finally made it to the road we were looking for. Unfortunately, the road had been changed since the books we had were written and the road ended a good distance before the actual beach. We looked for a road around and ended up driving up an enormous hill that overlooked the grove. 

Ultimately we received a ridiculous view over the pacific; two volcanic headlands jutted into the crashing waves of the Pacific, basalt cliffs guarding a white sandy beach with a massive palm grove at the rear. The plants on the hill were doubly weird, fat elephant trees mixed with at least ten different species of cactus in a 15 square foot area. We had lunch before deciding to step back into Marshawn Beast and head further south towards Cabo Fraile.

Leaving Todos Santos and heading south

Best,
   Elliott

Straight Shooting

Oasis in San Ignacio

We drove onwards across the desert passing mountains, cactus and barren arroyos. The road dropped out of the mountains and straightened out into an impressively consistent road. In Guererro Negro we passed into Southern Baja and our car was sprayed down with pesticides. Over the next few hours we passed little except military checkpoints until we made it to the San Ignacio. We saw the town from above and were impressed by the swath of vibrant green vegetation due to a large oasis that feeds water to the area. On Hannah’s recommendation, we checked out one of the oldest monasteries in Baja aka I hung out in the garden taking photos of the various identified plants. I neglected to bring a Baja botany book, a big mistake.

The sun was getting rather low so as we left town we were immediately on the lookout for camping spots and chanced into one after crossing a massive bridge over an arroyo system. We followed a telephone line road to a perfect glade where we stopped for the night. Pink lupines bloomed across the sandy bottom of the arroyo and strange euphorbia, purple blooms and red ocotillo trumpets filled the desert nearby. 

James at the mission

We enjoyed a tasty dinner and a few beers, passing out early. When the sun goes to bed, so do we. In the morning we headed to Santa Rosalia passing some wonderful and painful sights. The Volcan Tres Virgines erupted out of the desert with charcoal black basalt lava flows oozing out of the base. Then we passed a massive open pit landfill that was up in flames, burning the trash away. Then we passed massive copper mining and smelting operation. All of the industry shocked us after driving through pristine desert. We picked up a cell phone for James and re-upped our grocery supply at a supermarket in Santa Rosalia. Most importantly we grabbed a bag of oranges from a lady on the side of the road! Oranges are cheap and a daily necessity. Further south we entered Mulege where we came back to the ocean. From there the road wound around Bahia Concepcion, filled with turquoise blue waters and white sandy beaches; the multitude of just off shore islands blew our minds. At the bottom of the bay we pulled off onto a rocky road which we thought was going to bring us to our dream campsite. Alas after 45 minutes of bumping along with few good looking places, we decided to turn around and found a comfortable wash to camp in.

Camping in the arroyo

Not too shabby a place

After an Italian Dinner replete with zucchini, bolete (porcini), and sun dried tomato spaghetti sauce served over pasta, I was finally able to get the group to sit down have a discussion about group norms. As a social change organizer and camp counselor, I was adamant that we have the conversation. We created a massive list of everything, from how we want to treat each other, to our individual money situations, our pet peeves, how we plan to deal with robberies or tense situations. Afterwards I was happy to hear James and Josh exclaim that the conversation was actually way more useful than they believed it would be.

In the morning we headed south to tranquil Loreto. The town was heavily policed with many gringos walking the streets. Trees lined the streets and the central square was filled with well maintained gardens. We picked up groceries, gas and tequila as well as a fishing license and an extra snorkel. From Loreto, the road hugs the gorgeous coastline. We had to pull over and drink in the vista because the scene was so gripping. Isla Coronado, Isla Monserrat and the massive Isla del Carmen stretched along the coastline. We moved down the coast finding a secluded campsite at Puerto Escondito where Isla Danzate framed our view out over the Gulf. 

View from our campsite in Puerto Escondito

After setting up camp, Josh, Brian and I jumped out in the water. We had noted this area as one for snorkeling and spear fishing. Unfortunately the wind was blowing as a fairly decent clip stirring up some larger waves and sand from the bottom but we had our hearts set on snorkeling and catching fish. This was my first time snorkeling. Wind, chilly water, and my slight fear of turbid water made the experience a bit tough. I eventually calmed my breathing down enough to actually look under the surface and enjoy the marine life there. Being a total nerd, I was instantly excited when I started seeing even the occasional bit of marine life. Tiny puffer fish and occasional starfish left me ready for more snorkeling. Brian found a couple fish to shoot at but came up empty. Finally after drinking my fair share of salt water I headed back towards land. When we came back to shore we met our neighbors Penny and Suzy who became our wonderful surrogate mothers. The two hail from the Lost Coast of California and have been coming down to Loreto and camping for a few months at a time during the winter. Suzy and her husband have been coming down to Baja for years and have traveled the peninsula extensively; Suzy and her sister even drove Highway 1 the first year it was completed!

Of course Suzy had a son who is a graduate student at Oregon State University and the world being tiny, Brian had gone to a lecture that Suzy’s son presented. Suzy gave us the low down on the area and shared her wealth of knowledge of Baja, letting us in on her favorite snorkeling spot in Baja and which canyons to hike in the area. 

The next morning we headed to the canyon right across the road from our campsite. Two miles later and we were at the mouth of the canyon and we started upwards. Massive swarms of butterflies flew from the upper boughs of a strange tree that engulfed a cliff face. The white bark of the tree contrasted with the lush, large green leaves. The trunk was many smaller branches that eventually coalesced into a larger trunk, looking similar to a mangrove but far larger than most mangroves. The walls of the canyon narrowed as we hiked onwards and we ogled at the high cliffs above.

Entering the Canyon

What a good looking guy

Crazy butterfly tree

Pull!

Red, tan, black, green, white and purple rocks lined the canyon. The predominant rock was a beautiful conglomerate while occasional and volcanic rock with quartz veins crossed our path. Soon after entering the canyon we heard water flowing. Rounding a corner we were treated to pristine pools; water in the desert. Palm trees appeared and we hiked higher. The water carved the canyon and would periodically disappear to only reappear a few hundred meters farther along. Clambering over massive boulders we made our way higher and higher. Every couple hundred feet of gained elevation brought new and different plants. The diversity was like nothing I have ever seen; these mountains were so close to the coast and receive more rain than the surrounding desert leading to the diversity. The year previous was exceptionally rainy, bringing massive floods through the canyon and Susy had warned us that the going might be tough. Occasionally house sized choke stones blocked the narrow canyon and we had to use ropes to climb higher. This just made for more climbing and more fun! 

Palm Grove at the top

Brian and Josh decided to relax next to one of the larger pools while James and I explored higher up. The views back down the canyon and over the islands and the gulf made for pleasant sights. Ultimately we made it to our destination, a massive palm grove high in the mountains. Trekking down, we made it out of the canyon just as the sun started to set, throwing orange light over the craggy peaks behind us. Night fell as James and I walked back the final two miles to camp where we found our exasperated friends. We had all forgotten that the keys were in my pocket when we parted ways so they were stuck outside of the car without access to food and warm clothes while James and I hiked. Alas we developed a better protocol for avoiding the situation in the future

The next morning we headed south again on straight roads towards Ciudad Insurgentes eventually making it to Punta Conejo. The waves were rolling in in massive curling sets. Brian was beside himself. He had never seen waves like these. Absolutely perfect. While Brian jumped in the water with the surfboard, Josh and I headed out to search for tasty shellfish. As we looked under and around the tidal rocks, the sun slowly set on the horizon lighting up the stratus clouds above us with a light mauve and the massive cumulonimbus thunderheads out over the Pacific with brilliant yellows and oranges. Both Josh and I stood dumfounded, our gathering mission forgotten. I motioned Josh over and we sat on the rocks taking in the spectacle. In the east, the legs of a double rainbow shone brightly while the sun continued to set in the west. Flocks of seagulls passed overhead along with groups of feeding brown pelicans, each silhouetted by the sunset. We made scrumptious chile rellenos stuffed with chorizo and onion for dinner. We are true hobbits; we eat well.

In the morning we prepared some delicious burritos while Brian and James hit the surf with our new friend, Will of Bellingham, Washington (most recently, as he has been living out of a well set up Sprinter van for the past three years). Will is en route to Envision, a music festival in Costa Rica with two brothers, Cole and Sam. Seeing the two brothers made me realize how much I wish my awesome brother, Ian was with us! Once again we were reminded that while the horizons of Baja seem vast and the world a huge place, the reality is that we are a small, interconnected community. Will had been climbing with Meghan’s (James’ ladyfriend) brother in law and was also good friends with Morgan Foster, a dude that I grew up playing soccer with. 

Punta Conejo was filled with surfers, all of whom were incredibly friendly folks. No sooner would one conversation end than another would begin and we would connect over being from Oregon or a love for camping in the middle of nowhere. John, our resident seagull, otherwise known as the owner of Kite the Bay in San Francisco tried to buy a cup of coffee and oranges from us. We laughed at the audacity. Come have three of each and eat some breakfast with us. 

“Seriously?” He asked. Of course! We had another friend.

Sunset at Punta Conejo

Best,

   Elliott