Baja Sur Continues...

Our original plan--when we thought we would be able to make it to Laguna San Ignacio--was to continue down the coast to San Carlos. Though we had to hightail it to the opposite coast instead, we were now at the very skinny part of Baja (where you can see both coasts at the same time from an airplane, but that's a story for another time...) and crossed back to the pacific coast, to the town of San Carlos.

This was the most beautiful day of riding yet! Within 20 minutes of leaving San Lucas, we were kicking ourselves for having stopped so early. We found ourselves riding along the coast of Bahia Concepcion. I have no pics, but LOOK IT UP. We were both riding along, mouths hanging open (no small feat in a helmet), completely in awe of the white sand beaches, crystal clear turquoise water, and lush foliage. Palapas lined the beaches, waiting for campers to show up and pay their $10 for a night of camping in paradise.

I have found a winter retirement location!

For us, the beautiful scenery added to the complete enjoyment of riding motorcycles where ever the hell we wanted in Baja. We eventually turned inland in order to head to the other coast, but were not disappointed here either. This was scenery I had a hard time believing. We rode through breathtaking mountains lush green foliage, broken only by patches of sheer, sharp rock. Out of the green foliage stood giant saguaro cactus. What!?! This was beautiful, lush, desert?

 

The shades of green are innumerable!

How does this even exist?

I don't know, but I loved it. The one disappointing thing about it was that this desert, being as lush as it was, was home to my arch-nemeses--mosquitos. At a quick stop on the side of the highway where I could take some pics, I realized it would be a good time to use the...er...facilities. As quickly as I made that run behind some bushes, I came back with three new mosquito bites--one on my shoulder, as I had removed my jacket for the stop, and two on my butt.

No lie. I scratched my butt for three days.

Seriously, traveling is sooooo glamorous.

After a day of riding through magical, southern Baja beauty, we made it to the sleepy town of San Carlos. Right before we would make the left hand turn to go into town, we turned right into the parking lot of Mar y Arena. It is a hotel with a restaurant, that also does fishing trips, boating trips, has campsites, and during the season, is a huge whale watching site.

We found this place using the iOverlander app, and we have been using it a lot since. If you're traveling and looking for places to camp or hotels with good secure parking, this app is awesome. It also has food recommendations, mechanics, and bad road warnings. It's geared towards people who are traveling by vehicle of some sort, and is user maintained and updated. We love it.

San Carlos was the first place we stayed more than one night. Every once in a while, we need to stay more than one night in a place, so we have a whole day to enjoy sites, do some motorbike maintenance, do laundry, get some writing done, and maybe make phone calls to the parents.

"Do it now"-- the best bit of advice. Ever.

We got camp set up, and not long after--as we were enjoying beach-side beer service--a couple rolled up and parked their camper van in a camping site. Pierre and Elaine are from France, and they shipped their rig to Canada. They are slowly making their way south, and we had a nice couple of chats with them.

The next day, they rolled out and we went walk-about in the town. We found a tiny shack to have tacos in, a market to stock up on essentials such as food stuffs and toilet paper. (You really need to take your own everywhere in Mexico. If you're prepared and expect toilet paper to not be supplied, you'll be fine. If you start thinking places will supply it in bathrooms, you'll be really disappointed.)

Me and Mama Flora.

Eventually, we wandered back in time to soak up some sun, do a little reading, a little writing, a little chain maintenance, and some laundry. In the morning, when we were in the restaurant having coffee, I asked if there was a laundromat in town. There was, but it wasn't functioning. So, there wasn't. However, the hotel staff was kind enough to let us use their washers and clothes line. That just made everyone happier--we had clean clothes, and they didn't have to smell us!

The showers there were wonderful, and after a good night's sleep again, we headed for La Paz. We rode through more stunning landscapes, stopping only to get gas. We got to La Paz relatively early in the day on Monday, as we had planned to head directly to the ferry terminal to take care of paperwork and buy our tickets for Tuesday night's overnight ferry to Mazatlan.

Before leaving San Marcos, we found the Hotel Pension California in La Paz using the iOverlander app, and knew we'd be heading there for our night's stay, after the ferry terminal.

As it turned out, things at the ferry terminal didn't go really smoothly. There is a whole other story to be told here, but as of now, let's just say it's too soon.

We exploded all over the room. Sometimes I wonder how we ride with all this crap.

In the end, we went to Hotel Pension California. It was a good place for us to be, and they had really secure parking for the bikes.

In the lobby.

Me: we have motos...? Him: Yes, we have parking. Right here. Me: (to myself) Let's see if I can fit Camille's fat ass though the doors...

Hotel Gato.

The bikes would stay there for three nights. We would stay in that hotel two nights, with a small adventure in between the two. Nothing bad happened, in case you're worried. But, at the moment, pride will not allow the story to be told.

Thursday morning, we finally left Hotel Pension California. Our first stop was Allende Book Shop, an English-language bookstore. It was a teeny-tiny store packed with (aaaahhh...glorious) books, but all I needed was a small English-Spanish dictionary. There was no one in the shop, as it is the low season for travel. The woman who owns it has been there twenty years, spent time in the Seattle area before moving there, and acted as though our being in her shop was a complete bother to her. So, I paid for my book and left.

Our next stop was a beach-side restaurant for ceviche tostadas and seafood soup--a most excellent brunch. After leaving the restaurant, we rode slightly out of town towards Pichilingue (where the ferry terminal is located) and stopped a a beach to spend a couple of hours. We chilled under a palapa on the beach. I read. Josh swam. It was steamy hot and gorgeous all at the same time.

Eventually, we headed to the ferry terminal, where things went smoothly this time.

Well, almost. A young kid almost got smacked when he was filling out the paperwork for my bike's weight. The top part of the form asks for name, age, and reason for travel. He asked me to write my name, which I did, then looked me closely in the face and wrote down my age.

As 57!

The little puke!

There's nothing wrong with being 57, I am sure. But I won't actually know for 16 MORE EFFING YEARS!

I need to wear some make-up, but in 96 degree weather with over 90% humidity, it will just melt off my face. And to those who told me I would forget all about coloring my hair once we were on the road--YOU WERE WRONG.

Gah!

The next few hours would find us waiting for the ferry and meeting three guys from Mazatlan on big bikes--a F800GS, a R1200GS, and a 650 V-strom. That was the end of a week long motorbike trip they were on, and we talked about traveling and motorbikes. The two guys on GSs admired my Mosko Moto luggage, asked me all about it, and lamented the fact they couldn't get it in Mexico.

Motos were the last to board the ferry. We fit anywhere.

Eventually we boarded the ferry. We played some games, found our assigned seats, then ditched them for a whole other part of the oat that didn't have crying children. We didn't buy cabins, and though it would have been fine if we had truly thought about what that meant, it wasn't great. We slept on hard wood floors. I didn't sleep poorly, but I woke up stiff and sore.

We had coffee on board, but due to the fery's usual arrival of 8am, there was no food offered. However, due to a problem at the dock, it was after 10 before we actually docked. We disembarked into stifling heat and humidity, having had little more than coffee and a piece of pre-packaged sweet bread.

We were now in mainland Mexico, in the state of Sinaloa, and we had some miles to lay down.

The day wouldn't go as we thought it would, but to be honest, it would be so much better than we could have imagined...

 

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