The Best and Worst of Baja

Voted as "Best Baja Picture" by me... How can you have a bad day when it starts-out like this?

Baja Magic

I've been thinking about this term for quite a while. When I was doing my pre-trip research on the Baja years ago, the "magic" of Baja was frequently mentioned. What is it exactly? It certainly can't be Tijuana - the first city you see when heading south. Next stop - San Quintin. Dusty, crowded, miles of greenhouses for growing strawberries and tomatoes. No magic there. Finally, arriving at El Rosario, about 1 1/2 days drive down, the highway turns eastward, towards the Catavina Desert. Rolling hills of strange-looking cactus and giant boulders. Humm.. There are some possibilities here. About this time a feeling of smallness and loneliness starts to set in. You realize that this is a vast area with very few people. Your senses begin to sharpen. Encounters with people take on a new meaning. Encounters with fellow travelers become special - more intense. Life stories are summarized and communicated quickly, as your new friends are likely to be leaving tomorrow to continue their own journey. You mention "Baja magic" to your newly made friends. They always nod knowingly. Something intangible is being shared and understood at a nonverbal level.


A few nights ago we were sitting on the beach by the fire. It was very still - no wind, the water lapping quietly a few feet away. The full moon was just rising over the hills on the other side of the bay into some mottled clouds. A strong moon beam, almost like a spot light, illuminated a path along the water. A tall Great Blue Heron was silently walking along the shore, looking for little fish. He was using the light of the campfire and moon to spot them. I looked up - the clouds ended right above us, in a sharp line. To the west, the sky was completely clear, the Milky Way was a bright streak. Orion, was sharply defined, and framed by two palapas. An amazing sight. Baja magic at its best.



Talking to different folks provides various perspectives about the magic. Chuck defined the magic by the effects it has on him. "When you are coming down here, you keep saying to yourself - this is too far of a drive. Never again!" and "When you return home, it's always good to be back in civilization and comfort again" "A few weeks later, though, you start to miss being down here, and look forward to returning again!" How true.


Ted felt that it was the sharp contrasts of the land which gave it a magical quality. You look one direction, and see desert, with cactus and mountains. Turn your head, and your have the multicolored sea and beaches.


Bobbe felt that it was the people that provided the magic. She was speaking of the people of Mexico. Their lack of pretension leaves a friendliness and welcoming attitude.


Mary related that it was the lack of anger and hostility that made it so special for her. People seem to have the goal of just relaxing and enjoying themselves.

Meridee is most fascinated by the beautiful views from her palapa. Especially when the dolphins play and cavort in the bay.

Mimi says "It's stripping away what's superficial - and reducing things to the essential." "In the Baja, the things of value are primal and simple. The beauty of nature, the peace and tranquility. The joy in finding a good tomato or ripe straberries in the mercado."

To me, it is all of the above. Plus the open and friendly social interactions that constantly take place. People constantly helping each other. We frequently comment that we know folks on the beach better than our neighbors of fifteen years at home. Also, the total immersion in the environment. You become part of it, being outdoors most of the time. The weather and light is constantly changing, stimulating the senses in ways difficult to achieve back in the "city".

Why don't more people come down here and enjoy the magic ???

Here's my answer: Mexico seems to do as much as possible to turn people off who visit.

Take our return trip. Basically a gruelling three day drive northward. The trip seems designed to be a large kick in the ass as you leave. The population gets denser, towns more congested with traffic and dust. Our average speed, which is about 60 mph in the beginning, is reduced to 20 and 30 mph as we wend our way through the towns. The border seems further and further away as your speed slows.

We were checked five times by armed military guards at their stops. The soldiers were polite, though, and gave a cursory check of the inside of the motorhome. They were fascinated by the cats, especially Armani, who was our good will ambassador.

Tijuana - the town you love to hate. Rotten streets, buildings covered with graffiti, and traffic! Mexicans hate street signs. If there are any, they have lettering that is about two inches tall - and faded. We were going to bypass TJ, and go to Tecate for the crossing. But Route 3 is being "rebuilt", meaning that some sections were removed to the dirt, causing huge ruts. So we decided to go directly to the San Ysidro crossing. Of course the signs were ambiguous going to the border, so we just missed the correct lane and wound-up lost in the middle of T.J. downtown.

By this time I was tired from driving five hours, and cursing-up a storm. Mimi was frantically scrutinizing a small map of TJ. I started drifting eastward, towards the TJ Airport, where I knew the Otay Mesa crossing was somewhere. I was yelling at her to make sure the door was locked, so someone couldn't just hop aboard and hijack us. Mimi finally recognized where we were on the map and slowly guided us back to the San Ysido entrance lane.

Almost home - we could see the border !! Just a matter of a few minutes, right? But Mexico has more fun in store. Vendors set-up stands between the car lanes, which are only separated by a few feet. Hundreds descend on you, imploring, begging, gesticulating to buy something. My favorite were two types. The large stand with umbrellas, that the motorhome is about to hit. I just keep inching forward, forcing the operators to move the stands as they curse us. The others are the legless beggars on little wheeled platforms, scooting around. They disappear from my sight in front of the motorhome, and I pray that I don't run them over! Only once did I feel like I ran over something. Didn't stop to look. I had visions of running over somebody, and the crowd outside getting violent, shaking the motorhome. No worry - I had my machete from Harbor Freight and a flare gun to fight them off.

Time to put on the headphones and listen to some calming music! It really does help. Mimi peers over at me, and I now have a large smile on my face. She thinks that I've either completely lost it, or the music is having it's effect. (the latter)

OK, were getting real near the actual border checkpoint. A large border guard has a giant German Shepherd dog on a long leash. He's supposed to be checking for drugs. I'm reminded of Cheech and Chong movie, Up In Smoke, where they drive a van made of Marijuana over the border. I asked Mimi what would happen if the dog discovered that van - it would probably have a heart attack from the excitement. The dog is constantly tugging the border guard around, actually pulling him. Doesn't seem to be very well trained. Anytime I let a space occur more than two feet in front of me, a car cuts in. Driver courtesy doesn't exist near the border either (these were mostly cars with California plates by the way). Finally, I reach the cameras and sensing devices. There is an inch clearance on each side of the mirrors. I decide that, the motorhome will go through, whether the mirrors clear the booth or not. They barely do.

I always like the look on the border guards face when I reach the booth. One female guard commented, as she rolled her eyes, "How am I supposed to inspect that thing?" I bit my tongue. This guard is a female also, but not obnoxious. She just called her supervisor over. The motorhome is so large that they can't even walk around it. I'm asked to pull into one of the exit lanes, as they stop traffic and create more friends for us. All outside bins are locked, as well as the car, for obvious reasons. The guards enter the motorhome, asking about fruit, etc. Mimi offers-up a withered tomato. "That's OK to keep", the guard says. (We always have a 'sacrificial' piece of fruit or vegetable to give them - it makes their day). I tell them that all the bins are locked, and offer-up the keys, asking them which ones they want to check. Being proactive about the secondary search seems to speed things up. They decline, and send us our way.

O boy, the feeling once you cross the border !!! 805 seems almost magical, with it's multiple wide lanes. And so smooth! I turn the steering wheel left and right, enjoying all the space in my lane as I accelerate to 65.

HOME.

Mucho Ballenas

Our last interesting activity in the Baja happened today. Upon arriving in Guerrero Negro yesterday, I checked the weather for the next day. Predicted to be calm winds and temperatures in the 70's. The whale watch was a go!! We quickly set-up camp at the RV park, detached the car, and drove into town to the Malarrimo Hotel, registering for the first boat trip of the day 8 a.m.

We had coffee in the hotel while waiting for the "Loading bell" to ring outside. Mimi was really jazzed about this trip, having looked-forward to it for so long.

The hotel has a nice indoor / outdoor eating area.

A sculpture in the garden depicts a mother whale teaching her baby to surface and breathe.



Enrique was the tour host on our 1/2 hour trip through the salt flats to Scammons Lagoon. He was bilingual, and provided a wealth of information about the history of Guerrero Negro, the salt works, and the whales.



The sign at the boat launching site gives some more information about the Gray Whales. The pangas in the background are what are used for the tour.

This map illustrates the migration path between the Baja and Arctic Ocean that they take annually.

Mimi assumes her "Captain Ahab" position in the bow of the boat. They took the harpoon away from her, though.


Whale contact was made quickly. It is estimated that there are over 1000 whales in the lagoon. The number is dropping, though, as they begin their migration northward. Most of the whales are near the mouth of the lagoon, preparing to leave.

A baby cautiously approaches the boat. They are curious and friendly.

He gives a big smile for the cameras. What a ham !

Then comes closer for a quick head scratch...

This one is further out, "spy hopping", or taking a quick peek around.


Most of their time is spent cruising a few feet below the water.

I thought that this big mother whale was going to turn the boat over, but she just glided under it. They seem to understand the vulnerability of the boats and never hit them. We saw several whates breach, launching almost all the way out of the water. They were far away from the boat and difficult to take pictures of because they occur so quickly.

Back near the boat landing is a pack of California Sea Lions doing what they love the most - sunbathing.

OK, that really is the last activity of the trip.

Now for heading home....

Adios, amigos.

Last Days...

More friends



Here are some more friends who helped make our stay at Burro Beach so memorable.

Chuck is from the L.A. area. A master machinist by trade, he dabbles in making miniature engines and radio controlled air planes. Chuck is a master story teller and keeper of Burro Beach history and memories. We'll miss him around the camp fire.

Chuck came down to Burro Beach in 1991, and built his palapa. It is a two story, very comfortable one. His repairs are now limited to "Feeding the termites".

Mary is from British Columbia. She is a horticulturist by trade, and now has her own landscaping business.

Mary is an accomplished artist, sitting by some of her works. She is a major contributor to the Amigos dos Los Ninos' art sale. She has been painting for over thirty years, starting in oils, moving to acrylics and winding up in water colors with some mixed media.




This is a close-up of one of her water colors. Outstanding !!





We had dinner at Anna's, over on Santispac Beach. A very nice restaurant and nite club. I have been getting the Chilies Rellenos. Delicious ! Notice how the dish is done in the Mexican National Colors.

Our last days consisted of repacking for the trip, and cramming a few activities in that we haven't gotten around to yet.

Mimi and Bobbe went kayaking on a nice calm day .




This is Mimi in the kayak. Mimi here--I find kayaking one of the magical things here at the beach. Gliding slowly along and looking down down through the clear water at the fish and sting rays on the bottom is mesmerizing. If you give just a little paddle and then sit very still, it is possible to approach the Great Herons and Snowy Egrets as they feed at the water's edge.





This is Bobbe in her kayak.





Mimi took this picture of a Great Heron in one of the coves she explored.





A nice view of Smokey and the beach from the kayak. (I was really trying to take a picture of a cormorant that was diving in front of me. The camera hesitates when the button is pressed and the bird went after some prey right after I clicked. Got a nice picture of the beach though.)


Another last minute activity was a quick beach combing trip to the end of the bay. As I mentioned before, most dead thing end-up at the bottom of the bay because of the prevailing winds. We found lots of shells and some nice pieces of driftwood for the home garden.





Mimi and Bobbe walk along the beach sharing some girl talk. Little Shadow was ecstatic to have both her mom and her aunt Mimi to walk with. She just bounds with glee!





The beach and a dry creek bed emptying into it.



Some years ago, the Japanese came into the bay and virtually cleaned it out of scallops. It has never really recovered. Here are some piles left from their scallop factory - there are millions of shells in the area.




Meridee just arrived back from a trip to the big bay. Naturally, she found the largest artifact of all ! A whale bone. Humongous. I suggested that she hang it from the rafters in the house and spend a few spare years making scrimshaw designs on it . She thought that was a good idea...





On the return trip to Burro Beach we passed Playa Requeson - a favorite campground for motorhomes. You can park right on the peninsula connecting the island.



Hasta luego..

Friends

Well, the saga of Frijole Rock continues. As you may recall, Frijole Rock is a fabled underwater spot - a pinnacle about 60 ft high in the middle of the bay. The fish love to hang around there, and some very large ones have been caught. I headed-out a little after 7 a.m. to try to find it. Had the GPS coordinates programmed, and depth finder ready. Ted was going to come out to the area about an hour later. In his boat. It would be good to have two boats, in case one developed engine problems. Arrived at the spot indicated on the GPS - about 5.6 miles from our beach site. But no rock. The depth finder should show something, at least. But nothing !

Sooo.. here's the possibilities:

a) The coordinates were wrong.
b) The GPS was malfunctioning
c) The operator (me) screwed-up some how
d) The rock moved

The answer is below.

FRIENDS

As our visit to Burro Beach nears its end, I want to be sure to introduce some more important friends.

Bobbe and Ted were the original people I met when I first visited. Ted is Canadian, while Bobbe is American. They are closely involved in charitable organizations down here. Really kind, generous folks who go out of their way to help beach visitors.

Above is the front view of their palapa which has been expanded over the years to include a back porch and second story bedroom, as well as storage shed below. Their back yard is an estuary with lots of different kinds of birds.

The main living area. Very nicely decorated. Bobbe is an accomplished water color artist. Her productions as well as those of others decorate the walls. She paints with a group of women from Burro and neighboring beaches. Bobbe and Ted are involved with Los Amigos do Los Ninos, a group of mostly Canadians and Americans who have worked with the directors of the Internado School to provide scholarships for students who want to continue their education beyond sixth grade. In Mexico, school is mandatory until sixth grade and additional education is available at the expense of parents, family members or through scholarships provided by groups such as this.


Above is a work of fabric art made by our other early friend, Connie. Almost all of the art completed by the painting group is sold in an art sale each year with 100% of the proceeds going to provide scholarships through Los Amigos de Los Ninos.



Above, Bobbe is in the kitchen, preparing a "late" Thanksgiving dinner pictured below for friends from their church, Jorge and Carmen. Their friends were in mainland Mexico during last Thanksgiving, so they are celebrating it upon their return.

Of course, everyone was invited to the dinner. Turkey with all the trimmings. All this in a palapa---Yumm !

Shadow is their dog. An eleven year-old cocker spaniel, she is very sweet. Shadow likes to hang around our motorhome when we visit, hoping that Mimi, her best friend, will take her for a walk along the beach. Her very favorite thing (after garbage diving, that is).

Meridee:


Meridee lives next to Bobbe and Ted. This is part of a dinner which she prepared for the group a few nights ago. Pasta with cream pesto sauce. Mmmm !




Meridee's palapa is something to behold. It is really a complete house, disguised as a palapa. Meridee is an amazing person. She built the palapa by hand, and I helped set the original support poles in the sand years ago. The workmanship inside is beautiful. She was a craftsman before retiring, and did all of the carpentry, tile work, wall board, plumbing, and electrical. She has several children and grand children, so the palapa needed to be big enough to accommodate all during their visits.


They say a woman's work is never done. In Meridee's case, she is constantly improving her creation. Here, she is handing up a solar panel to her friend, Anita. The solar system is being expanded, to produce over 50 amps!

Frijole Rock continued:I

I cruised around the area, in ever widening circles for about an hour. Still no rock on the sonar. Ted didn't show-up either, so I headed for a known fishing spot a little ways away, closer to home. After spending about 1/2 hour there, the wind started picking-up, so it was time to return the the beach. Ted wasn't at the beach, though. He had gone to join me in his own boat, and hadn't returned. With the wind blowing strongly, we mustered a search party - Chuck and myself with binoculars. Our first stop was Coyote Bay, and then we were going to drive down towards the end of the bay. Luckily, we spotted Ted crossing Coyote Bay and returned to the beach to meet him. When talking to him, I found we somehow crossed paths, and didn't see each other on the water.

Teds wife, Bobbe, mentioned that she had heard that Frijole Rock had collapsed underwater! Fishermen could no longer find it. So if your guess was d) The rock moved - you were right!

Big Day in Sta. Rosalia

We decided to make a day trip to Santa Rosalia on Wednesday. This is a fairly large town in the Baja with lots of history. It's background is as a mining town first established in the 1800's by the French for the purpose of exploiting the rich copper deposits in the area. The town still reflects their influence in the architecture and layout. This is a "working town", with very few tourist amenities. Kind of refreshing. My guess is that it is similar to moderate towns this size on the mainland.

But first- don't forget your seat belt for the drive up there. The 60 mile trip has Burma Shave-types of signs reminding drivers not to drink, drive with care, and even obey the signs!


This is an overview of the town as we approach it from the south. It's built on a mesa and bluffs overlooking the ocean. The day was perfect - temperature in the high 60's and a light breeze.

Along the coast is the ore refinery - still existing from the 1800's. Lots of machinery still present. They knew how to built 'em in those days.

Another view of the extensive works. It is being made into a museum by the government.

Old mining shovel and crane.

On the top of the mesa, overlooking the town, is the hotel. It is still in operation having been renovated.


More mining relics in the front court yard of the motel.


The interior court yard gives access to the rooms, which are nicely decorated. It looked like visiting business men and government officials were the principal residents. No tourists were around.

Mimi plays with a parrot in the court yard.

The lobby and interior are decorated with artifacts and furniture reflecting Europe.

The star attraction is the little locomotive with the company's name - Boleo Company.

Back down to the main part of town for lunch. A little hotel has a nice restaurant that specializes in roast chicken.

Really gooood roast chicken The best I've had in years !

As we were leaving the restaurant, a rather unkempt Mexican came-up to me. I was rather surprised, as most folks just go about their business here. He was speaking in rapid Spanish, and I thought that he was "Putting the touch" on me. Unusual. Another gentleman who was washing a car nearby came over to translate. A gringo had just died on the waterfront ! We thanked the man and drove over to see what was happening.

Apparently an old couple who live down here part-time had come into town for some business. As the wife went into the immigration office, he waited in the truck. Suffering from an apparent heart attack, he was slumped over the wheel when she came back. Dead. The police came, and brought a community liaison who spoke Spanish and English equally well. She was consoling, and advising the widow on how to proceed. Mimi talked with the widow for a while, and we determined that she was in good hands, and waiting for some friends to arrive from Punto Chivato where they lived. We proceeded on with our tour, somewhat in shock, though. You just never know...

We drove back up the mesa road to the highest point in Santa Rosalia. This great view is near the water tower, and the spot where our friend, Tioga George camped for months at a time. His little garden is still partially there, but needs maintenance.

Back in town we stopped at the Bakery, established during the French colonial time, and still selling French pastries. They are more Mexicanized now - not as sweet and a heavier dough.

Near by is the town square, and very comfortable place to hang-out.

Part of the square consists of a long European type of building. Likely used by the Boleo Mining Company for offices, now used by local government bureaucrats.

The town has lots of young people, who were on the streets as school let out. Seemed like nice kids - not acting obnoxious at all like American kids that age can do.

Just a shot of a street in Sta. Rosalia. Lots of trees for shade and decoration. The streets are very clean.

Also lots of truck and taco stands. We are always careful where we eat. Never indiscriminately.

This is the church that Eiffel ( of Eiffel Tower fame) designed.

The interior reflects the elaborate iron and steel structural work.

The road out of town overlooks an old mine shaft with it's elevator head still intact. This is Tioga George's logo, painted on the side of Miss Tioga, his motorhome.

That evening was a full moon. This is the silhouette of a crane on the beach.

Hasta luego....