Km 11007
On the 2nd of january the sky was clear and the day was hot. In fact, since I crossed the Mexican border 4 weeks ago, I had only 1 rainy morning. On the morning we camped at "rancho de la vaca perdida" (ranch of the lost cow), name given by us after watching the cowboys on a frustrated but funny attempt to catch a cow that got "lost" in the arid hills that surrounded the ranch. That morning from a grey silk sky, had fallen a soft and subtle rain. A winter rain in the desert. what the Navajo Indians call female rain. I loaded the "burra" (the name of my bike), and already after midday we left the camp of Bahia de los angeles, and hit the road south. Another day on the road like so many others but with a small big difference: I left beyond my cycling partners of the last 2500 km, Sheila and Bernardo. Together we went through good moments and it was hard to say goodbye. That night camped again in the desert, by a camp fire, I wrote this on my journal:
"(...) We climbed that twisted road once again, this time just me and Adolfo. Sheila and Bernardo stayed beyond in the company of the new gang member: the-crazy-guy-on-a-bike, called Jeff, another world cycling nomad on his way "south". The mountains on my right side gave me shelter from the wind, increasing the temperatures of the hot sun. a few drops of salty water run down my face. Was it sweat? Or tears? Couldn´t figure it out, but as I left the Bahia de Los Angeles beyond me, the nostalgic thoughts took over my mind and the desert didn´t look as beautiful as before.
It was drier, emptier.
and a few times I felt the urge to turn around and go back. But isn´t this trip all about meeting, knowing, and leaving? and isn´t beautiful enough that the panniers of my memory get more and more loaded with moments and faces that enriches the all experience of adventure bike travel?
I will miss those guys!
How often do I meet someone [Sheila] that likes penne but not spaghetti?
Or someone [Bernardo] that enjoys using the spices of the desert (read sand) in his food as he twists his body around the stove lifting a cloud of dust, that is stirred into his fire blackened pot with his 20 cm wooden spoon?... It´s 8.30 time to go to bed, tomorrow will be another day on the road south, and hopefully a happier one(...)"
With Adolfo, and without those lazy mornings and long breakfast, our daily average increased to around 90 km\day. One of the advantages of traveling from north to south at this time of the year, here in Baja California, is that the Strong wind is always in favor, unless of course, the road changes direction. Thats what happened after we passed the beautiful oasis of San Ignacio ( an excellent break from the dry and arid desert, with palm trees and lake), during 25 km (3 hours) we fight a devil possessed side wind, that put me out of the road many times ( at least 20!). And out of the road in the trans peninsular Mex1, is literally out of the road! Because the definition of shoulder in the Mexican dictionary refers to an imaginary space between the white line and lower gravel, and where everyone expects a cyclist to ride, excluded bus drives, that simply ignore the white line the space and the cyclist too!
With Adolfo I also learnt the definitions of other 2 words of the Mexican dictionary important to cyclists. "planito", that is referred to a road with little climb, as it was the case in our first day in Mexico, that the "planito" guaranteed by Adolfo turned out ot be 1226 meters of accumulated climb. But my favorite is "cerquita" (very close or very near). "cerquita" is one of those words that everyone uses but few give importance to its meaning Imagine that you want to go from point A to point B, in a Mexican road, and ask along the way to 10 different people how far are you now from point B. All 10 will tell you that you are already "cerquita", but only the last one tells you the true.
We arrived at Mulegué by the sea of Cortes after midday, another oasis of green in this dry peninsula, place of yet another Spanish mission. The peninsula of Baja California, was in pass times, colonized by the missionaries and not by "los conquistadores" of the Spanish armada. One of the first and finest examples is the mission of Loreto, a touristic town a bit further south.. After mulegué comes the "Bahia de la comception" where one can found some of Baja´s finest beaches. A succession of fine sandy beaches and small bays, with palm trees and "palapas" (palm tree huts), that despite been touristic, are very far from the cement-resort type of "los cabos" further south. And is still possible to found a piece of deserted white sandy beach to claim your own the time you camp there. We spent 3 days in one of them, "playa escondida", with 6 or 7 palapas and a hand full of tourists. We decided that the tent was not needed, and I slept in my hammock under a palapa a bit damaged by last September hurricane, and Adolfo slept counting the stars. I woke up every morning with the first lights of sun on my face and the red-orange colors of the sunrise reflecting in the lagoon like waters of the Cortes. Followed by the loud sound of Sr. Ramón´s horn on his old pick up, fighting his way downhill on the bumping road. Sr Ramón would came to the beach at very indecent times every morning, selling a bit of everything, eggs, milk, wood, ice, fresh shrimps, etc. Apart from Sr Ramón, the next place to buy anything would be Muleguá 30 km north.
When the rumble of señor Ramón´s horn disappeared beyond the hills, my only worry was how to kill time between the hammock in the palapa some swims on the lagoon like waters or watch the lazy pelicans dive-bomb the fish.
I would have stayed there a week without notice the time pass by, if Adolfo didn´t have the days counted to go back to university, and me too, with a set date to arrive in Cancun, by the end of February when someone very special arrives in Mexico: the Thames mermaid.
We arrived in La Paz 27 days after we left Tijuana. It was 1751 km on this first leg in Mexico, and the end of the road for Adolfo. From La Paz, he is going to take a bus on a 24 hour journey back to Tijuana. I said goodbye to Adolfo, and to Hermann and Flavio (2 Mexican cyclists that we met earlier in the oasis of San Ignacio, and that offered us their house in La Paz), and pushed the Kona into the Solona Star. The ferry that will take me to Mexico mainland and the city of Mazatlan on the other side of the sea of Cortes. The "burra" (mule), stayed in the cargo area, and I went to the bar drink some coronas and watch, first the city of La Paz, then its bay, and then the entire peninsula disappear in front of my eyes until it was nothing more then a blue line in the horizon.
Beyond the line I stayed the smile of Adolfo, the cactus of the desert, the playa escondida, the campfires, Bernardo and Sheila(probably cycling) and the sun aged face of Don Castro, a señor that right on our first few days in Baja, offered us the shade of his pine tree to set up our tents. and that told us many stories night away, about Baja Mexico and the Mexicans in general. Taken by the enthusiasm of his speech, his favorite was agriculture, that he started by talking about the tomatoes and Nopales (a type of cactus that one can eat), diverting then to the cultivation of marijuana and the Mexican narco-traffic. A subject he seemed to be well informed, with prices, types of seeds and ways of cultivation. On the next morning he waved goodbye and said, you know, if you came back again one day, the shade of the pine tree will still be here!
After spending the last 3608 km (or 65 days), in the company of other cyclists, I´m travelling alone once again.
Alone? not really!!
After all the Mexican roads are full of traffic and me and my "burra" and part of it!!
Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa, on board the Solona Star, sea of Cortes, Mexico
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