Baja California Ride. Part 1: Southern California

Part 1 :  Southern California

This blog is about my ride through the Baja California Peninsula from August 6th through 20th of 2016.  The ride took me from Woodside, CA all the way to the tip of Baja Peninsula to Cabo San Lucas, and back.

The inception of an idea to take a trip comes from various sources.  A picture you saw somewhere, a program on TV, you overhear someones comment, is what makes the imagination of a trip.  The trip itself, and a few roads I digressed stemmed out of articles I had read several years ago.

More and more I realize, a motorcycle and the roads not necessarily make the trip.  The memories of a trip are made of adventures and mis-adventures.  People you meet on the way, the stories you hear from strangers, the camaraderie, help and hospitality from people whom you never met nor will you may never again.  The food, the culture of the people.   The rains, the wind, the sun, the aroma of the land.  

Route

I have taken many a trip, which were in the safe confines of US and Canada.  This was my first ride to Mexico.  Initially, I had a lot of apprehensions about riding to a place where a lot were unknown - starting with the language, rules, road conditions, safety etc.  Many a folks warned me, even told me not to do so, as travel in Mexico is not as safe.

But the wanderlust was there, which won over the forebodings.  I tried to learn as much as possible by talking to people who knew more about the land.  Those who have been there were in general more upbeat about the idea than those who did not.

One of my friends, Liam lives down the Baja peninsula, and has done many times roadtrips from and to Bay Area down to Baja.  He assured me its safe to travel, provided we use the same common sense travelling to any new area - not to be in lonely places after dark, be careful and watchful of the surroundings, be courteous etc.

I found out that my travels through Mexico, were perfectly safe.  Other than the language spoken was unknown to me, people were genuinely nice.  Life moves at a different pace, tho.  Folks are not caught up with the high tech gadgetry like in Bay Area.  For example, I did not see even a single person walking staring at the magic mirror on hand, which has become a common scene, at-least in Bay Area.


There is a lot of Military presence down the stretch than the normal police.  There are about 6-8 Military check points down the stretch of the Hwy 1 interpensular.  Guess much is to blame on the drug related issues.

My first day's ride was took me to Borrego Springs, a little off the route I was going.  This article that I had read a while ago, made me make it part of my experience.  Whatever! – Ode On My Favorite Road.

Peeling off of Hwy 15 at Temecula, California Hwy 79 and S22 certainly matched up the description in that article and more. 

An unexpected site greets me on the side of the road - A collection of metal sculptures!  Almost all of them spectacular, rusty and roasting in the high temperatures that are common to this area, which sport a desert like weather.  Later I come to know that these are the works of Ricardo Breceda, which make the road quite scenic and memorable.











After I take a few pictures, I realize the sun was going down, and hence I decided to do a non-stop run to Borrego Springs, through S22.  My GPS was very handy letting me know how many more miles to go.

With the sun setting on my back, I could not have chosen a better time to ride this road.  The hills turned into golden yellow as the day starts to fade.  The desert breeze much pleasant, and the ST purring smoothly between my legs.  What a spectacular road !!!  Mankind has spent years laying these roads, and here I am just passing through, enjoying the fruits of labor of such unknown/forgotten people laying these roads...

Once I reach the summit, and start the decent into Borrego Springs, I realize something wrong with my breaks.  It catches my wheels very abruptly, and the slowing down was not predictable anymore, and the ABS warning was flashing all over.  Even though I had done a full service just before the trip, something was not right.  While this problem started to nag my mind, I slow down to a crawl and get through the road.  I really have to go back when my bike is in a better shape later to do this road again.

When we rely too much on technology, sometimes we are in for a surprise.  Getting to the small town of Borrego Springs was not the problem.  My GPS told I reached my destination of Casa del Zorro, in the middle of nowhere.  So, I doubled back to the little liquor shop, which I remembered was still open to ask for directions.

Here is where I meet the first angel of my trip.  Denny, was buying some beer and was stepping out of the shop when he saw me talking to a lady asking for directions.  He volunteers to lead me to the hotel, for which I gladly accept, as I was already fatigued after a 500+ miles day to try to remember the directions.  Once we reach the hotel, he even volunteers his phone number and tells me I could call him if I needed any more assistance while in town.  While that sounded strange, little did I know its going to come in handy!

With the break problem still nagging my mind, I quickly check in to the motel, and call my mechanic in Bay Area.  Luckily, Jim is still there.  I describe the problem to him, and he tells me to not to continue my trip, and find a mechanic.  All of my dreams got shot, and if I get delayed in my trip, I will not be able to meet with my family down in Cabo San Lucas, four days from that point.

Borrego Springs is a fairly small town, and any hopes of finding a mechanic is almost impossible.  After I order some pasta for dinner, which was spectacular.  Having known but one person,  I tried calling Denny to find if there is a mechanic in town.  A cheerful voice on the other end tells me, "You cannot find a better mechanic than me in this town.".  Later I come to know that Denny himself is a passionate offroad rider, and also has a Harley Davidson in his garage.  He does all the maintenance on his bike, and he told me if my mechanic can guide him, we will try and fix the problem.

With the peace of mind, I explore the surroundings.  Casa del Zorro is a mighty nice desert resort.  Would certainly come back to stay here.

  





The next day, Denny took me to his house, and we called Jim to figure the problem.  The break calipers on my front wheel seem a little loose.  He guides us to take the plastic off the motorcycle, and call him back.

As we took the plastic out, Denny figures one of the nuts is very loose, and my mechanic confirms that's indeed a big issue.  So, we tighten the nut with Lock Tight, and I take the bike for a spin.  The breaks now work like a charm.

During this time, I get to know Denny a lot better.  We share a lot of stories, and a lot more beer during the hot summer afternoon in Borrego Springs.  I felt my trip is off to a good start, as I had a memorable day with a stranger.  In addition, I also learn a lot about the local history, the flash floods, the best time to visit the place and so on.  As a token of thanks, I fill up his truck, and head out to a local restaurant to have a snack.  I have chilli, and he gets a plate of stake bites.  Also, he introduces me to the locals, who seem happy residents of this little town.

I hear the story of an irish immigrant, who came to this country even before I was born, about how he served in the army, and chose this place to retire.  His wife, a nice lady, had been to Mexico many times, and she gives me a lot of pointers, and assures me I would have good time there.

The next day, after a quick good-bye to Denny, I leave Borrego Springs.   

The back roads out of Borrego Springs is spectacular also.  

Head over to San Diego to cross the border.  There is an exit that announces its the last exit before crossing the border.  I quickly take the exit and look for a gas station.  I can already see how the place is changing.  A lot of spanish people entering and exiting USA.  In the gas station, I am surprised to find that they take only cash.

I fill up the tank, and send an update to my family and friends that I am now venturing into Mexico, and cross the border.

Next:  Part 2 Baja Norte (North Baja) 

Baja California Ride. Part 2: Baja Norte, Mexico

(Previous Part 1 : Southern California)

Part 2 Baja Norte, Mexico

Entering Mexico, I felt the change.  Just a few feet from the border crossing, I stopped by a Mexican official, and tried to ask him about how do I get on Hwy 1D towards Ensenada.  To my surprise, he did not speak English.  You would have thought, at-least near the border crossing, folks would be bilingual.  Thus started my sign language, which every one understands, and I get my answer, which is to follow road, and you will see signs.

I wanted to get out of the crowded cities such as Tijuana and Ensenada as soon as possible.  Now, it was not as difficult as I had originally thought.  The signs to highways were reasonably well written.  While I had my GPS, I kept my eyes peeled to any sign that pointed towards Ensenada, as my previous experiences have taught me that sometimes the GPS directions could be misleading.

I rode at a moderate pace, and was impressed with the toll road, called Cuoto,  between Tijuana and Ensenada.  There were sights of the big Pacific ocean on my right.  Sometimes I could even see the surf breaking.

Was also surprised to find the amount of development, tall buildings announcing ocean views, and low financing, clearly targeted towards Gringos across the border.  About 40-50 miles into Mexico, I started to relax a little bit, and was looking for a place to take a break and stretch my legs.

Soon enough, I happened on a pull over place, right next to the Pacific Ocean, with a lot of small shops, vendors trying to sell cheap jewelry, hats, toys etc.  I pulled over and strolled to a shop that was selling coconuts, fruits and snacks.  I ask for a coconut, and choose a mango from the basket, which the lady said she would cut it and bring it to me.

Its been a while I had fresh coconut water.  It was delicious.  And soon enough, she brought the sliced up mango with some hot sauce, lemon, and whatever else.  That was even more delicious.  I starting to feel that my decision to travel to this side of the border was after all a good one.

I thank the lady serving the food, and asked for permission to take her picture.  She agrees coyly, and gives rather a nice smile.

I quickly get back on the road, and soon enough enter Ensenada.  It was already 2 o'clock in the afternoon.  I get gas at a Pemex station, the only of a kind that sells gas in Mexico, and weave through the streets of the town.  The pace is very slow, with many signals, cars and people, I am feeling the heat inside my riding suit.  I am thankful for the GPS guiding me.

I still have about 230 miles to get to Cataviña.  Not a big deal I tell myself.  But I was very wrong, as the usual travel times do not apply anymore.  There are too many small towns, too many speed breaks and a few stretches of construction zones.  Riding the ST1100 is no fun on dirt roads, little did I know I will be honing my skills, let alone getting scared riding on the occasional soft spots.  Everytime I pass a construction zone with a diversion entirely a dirt road, there is a little hope that its going to be the last.  To my dismay I find there is a LOT of road constructions.  The machine rattles so much, that I am afraid that things will start falling apart.

By evening time, I reach El Rosario.  Its almost 7 PM and even though there is sunlight, the sun seems to be in a hurry to call it a day.  I fill up at the last Pemex station.  There is no gas for the next 200 miles or so, until Guerrero Negro.  Thats not true quite true, later I find out.  I did carry two extra bottles which can hold half a gallon or so for good measure.

My GPS does not take the Mexican addresses well, as the format of the addresses in Mexico is different and the GPS does not recognize it.

My only hope is to reach the town and figure out the rest.  I set the destination as Cataviña, and I do have a reservation at Hotel Mission Cataviña.  Its another 90 miles or so.

Without knowing Spanish, its going to be hard even to ask for directions.  As I am brooding over how am I going to spot the place, I saw an SUV with California license plate pull in.  There was a dad, and his teenager daughter with two dogs.  As the daughter takes the dogs for a little walk, the dad is filling up.  Finally seeing someone from my home state, I strike a conversation.  The talk was brief, and luckily they are going to the same hotel as I am.  I ask him if he minds if I followed him.  He says, "I dont mind at all, but you may be bored with following a slow car with a fast bike.  You will spot the hotel on the right side of the road, as there is only one in the main strip, you cannot miss it".

For the fancy, I do follow him out of the gas station for a little bit.  As we leave the town in a few miles, the road starts to climb.  The sun, now almost at the horizon casting beautiful colors on the desert landscape.   Unfortunately, there are no places to pull over to click a picture, as the shoulders exist barely and when they did, they are gravelly.  I curse myself as I forgot to change batteries on my GoPro to even record the scenery.

There is a lot of cactuses, and nothing but cactuses, and their silhouettes stand tall and proud in front of the setting sun.  A desert breeze, now lot cooler, was very pleasant..  I thought it was one of the most beautiful roads I had been on.  Luckily, there are no construction zones on this stretch.  I start to make good progress, and pass my friendly SUV, as he was indeed in no hurry to get anywhere anytime soon.

The darkness replaces the faint light, and I had to turn on my PIAA driving lights.  The whole of Baja Peninsula is open range, as I will later learn.  Even though I see the road in the faint light and the silhouette of the distant hills, the visibility was getting very poor.  I dodge a few rabbits, and soon I see a cow wandering in the middle of the road when I come zooming past a curve.  My heart skipped a beat, as the animal casts a indifferent look at me and continues to wander.

Finally, I see some car light, though a few miles behind me, keeping pace with me and may be even more.  I feel a little safe knowing some one behind me even if I were to encounter an animal and go down.

After what seemed like an eternity through the twisties, I get close to Cataviña.  A final stretch of construction appears just before the town limits, luckily its a very short one, and I hated riding on dirt in darkness.

I slowed down to a crawl as my GPS announced that I reached the destination, looking for any signs for the hotel,  And there it was - a faint sign that said just hotel and not even the name of the hotel.

Like all places, other than the road, the sides are gravel.  I pull in carefully, and it was indeed Hotel Mission Cataviña.  As soon as I pull in, a cop car also pulls in right behind me.  It was a cop all along who was behind me.  In Mexico, the speed limits are in KM.  I have been doing the same limit in miles, and by those standards I was speeding.   There was a little lump in my throat, but he walks by ignoring me.

I check into the hotel, and surprised to find a beautiful place with clean rooms.  Its one of those places, where once you step in, you want to come back.   Certainly its a historic place, as the plaque in front announces.

 A decent dinner, and a margarita in the restaurant inside the resort surely cheer me up.

The next day morning, I get up early to look around the surroundings.  The hotel is very clean.  With tiled floors and rustic furnitures, it has a country feel.

A dilapidated structure, which I assume was a gas station once upon a time, and went out of business long ago.

This place reminded me of the trip on Route 66 I took last year.  It was a common sight to see a lot of broken down old cars, ghost towns, houses, restaurants and businesses on the way, which probably thrived when the road was originally built.  Now, no one stops on the way, every one eager to cross the desert as soon as they can.

Right across the street is a quaint small cafe.  I see the gentleman from California, whom I met the day before, and his daughter enter that place.  In the mood for a little conversation, I follow them inside.  The place is nothing but a thatched roof, with gravel flooring.

This place has a kitchen in the back, just like the one in homes.  One lady takes the order and starts cooking.  I order for coffee, and an omelette.  The coffee was delicious, one of the best I ever had.  It had a earthy flavor.  And the omelette, big enough for me to not want lunch.

I found good company with that gentlemen, and his daughter - we talked a bit about travelling in Mexico, and what an untouched/unspoilt place this Baja is.  They have been to Baja many times, and love to surf there.  And a bit of talk about the last basket season, and Warriors team, certainly cheered the young girl.  It was nice to see her passionate about basketball, and a big fan of my local Warriors team.

While there are no gas stations, gas is available on the road side.  So, I decide to fill up for a good measure.  Even though I knew it could be expensive, there was some satisfaction in giving business to the guy sitting on the road side, hoping make a living.

Leaving Cataviña, I realize how beautiful the place is in broad daylight, as it winds down to the plains of Guerrero Negro.  It was an enjoyable ride through the desert in the morning.  As the day progresses, the temperature becomes too hot.

Then I see a construction zone, and I had to stop.  They are laying new pavement - and the alternative is the usual mud road on the side.  Now that I had ridden on some dirt road, there was some confidence in my mind, and the closure does not seem that long.  Without thinking, I follow the cars.  But, boy I was wrong!

Unlike the previous ones, this was a Vado (a river crossing or a ford).  There was a lot of soft sand.  And before I realize it I am deep in to the road, with no option of turning around.  Not paying much attention, and sweating dearly inside my suit I crawl trying to follow the tire marks of the truck in front of me.  It did not take much for a heavy bike with road tires to get struck in the soft sand, and the rear wheel started spinning.  The more I tried to get out, more it sank, and the front wheel also got struck in the soft sand, almost about a foot deep.

I get down from the bike, and ask help from the truck driver behind me who was patiently waiting for me to make progress.  Once again, I had to use sign language to communicate how I want help.  The traffic was piling behind me.  With one guy pushing the bike, it still would not budge.  I asked a second guy in a car to give a helping hand.  Even then, it was impossible to move the bike as the rear wheel starts to spin in the sand.  Finally I got out of my helmet and gloves, literally went on my knees and started to dig the sand out of the wheels way.  I was nervous and getting tired too fast.  Finally another try gets the bike off the quick sand, and slowly move inch at a time across the unpaved road to the main road where the construction ended.  I wave a hearty thank you to those strangers who helped me out of this situation.  These are the second set of angels who sweated along side me without any expectation, just to see a stranger get back on the road.

Pausing for a moment, I reflect on the fact that sometimes travelling alone could be dangerous.  If I did not have the help, I could have been stranded there.  I could have hit such a patch late in the night, and may not be a good situation to be alone, asking for trouble.  Its certainly a good idea to have companions on such trips, not only for sharing the good experience but to be able to help and look out for each other.

From that point onwards, the ride was uneventful.  I do take a break a little later, a dilapidated place, where there was some sign of gasoline from a truck.  I am treated to a beautiful sight from the windowless wall.  A couple of these kind of sights make it worth all the troubles.

I cross Guerrero Negro,  right past the Baja Norte border.  I do not realize the timezone changes here, ahead by one hour.

Next :  Part 3 - Baja Sur (South Baja).

Baja California Ride. Part 3: Baja Sur, Mexico

(Previous : Part 2 Baja Norte, Mexico)

Part 3: Baja Sur, Mexico

Guerrero Negro, is the first town crossing the state border into Baja Sur (Baja South).  I was told its a nice little town, off the main road.  But, given the fact that I had just a few days on my hand, I continued on.  Someday, I wish to travel without any agenda, with no specific return date, with no limits on the budget.  But if such a holy grail ever possible, I wonder!  I always seem to be on a budget, on a limited time, but I will take whatever I get, I tell myself!

From Guerrero Negro to San Ignacio, its an uninteresting straight road.  But then again after my brief episode earlier with getting struck in sand, I am happy to cruise along, happier to be on the well paved road.

Past San Ignacio, once again the road starts to get a little curvier, and interesting.  When one travels in an unknown place, you never know when the good part starts, and can never be ready.  My GoPro's battery had died, and even though I had another fully charged one, I did not have a safe place to pull over to change it.  So, I try to lean along, wherever the road was leading to.  A nice stretch of pavement through the mountains is a change to the straight road I had been on.

Soon, near a Vada, I find a place to pull over.  Its a nice valley, with plenty of space to walk around, and not too much traffic.  I had made good time, its just another 60 miles to Mulegé, and so I allow myself a relaxed break.  I pull out utensils, and make coffee on the road side.  The coffee tastes damn good.  I sit around on the rock, and breathe the desert air, and I sense a bit of ocean smell, which tells me the Sea of Cortez is not far.

I see a couple of riders on Adventure style bikes pass by, waving their hands, I return the cheers happily. Unlike in USA, the motorcyclists are far and few in between.  Most of them tourists, and I did not see a whole lot of locals, and this intrigues me.

Mounting again, I tell myself, its going to be a non-stop ride to the town where I want to bed in for the night.  Some energy you get, even after a long day, when you realize you are closer to destination.  I wanted to reach Mulegé while there is plenty of sun.  I do not have a reservation in any motel there, and so, I am anxious to allow extra time.

Crossing another stretch of spectacular road, in beautiful canyon, I crest on the top - to find a beautiful stretch of blue ocean.   I am finding it hard to express what I saw, nothing can describe the sight of a big, blue calm ocean, after crossing a desert for the past couple days.

The Sea Of Cortez on the eastern side of the peninsula is more calmer than the Pacific on the west.  The waters are much calmer, I could see that even from a distance.

A small video from my cell phone, even though I took it later is more appropriate here to show what I saw.

A breath of fresh air, as I cruise towards Santa Rosalia.  The road here is not the greatest, a little gravelly, forces me to concentrate on the road rather than let my eyes wander to the spectacular views on my left.

Santa Rosalia is a little-big town.  Apparently, yet another interesting town, with a lot of French influence.  The church here is designed by the same Gustave Eiffel, of the Eiffel Tower fame.  But I hate myself for not having time to explore this little town, nor check out that church.  Also I heard it has the best bakery in the whole of Baja, this has to wait for me to return someday.

Ride from Santa Rosalia to Mulegé is once again uneventful - with the exception of getting brief glimpses of the beautiful ocean on the side.

Entering Mulegé, its not as difficult as I thought to find a motel.  There is Hotel Mulegé right at the entrance.  Even more happier am I, when I find out there is a room available.  I quickly register, and ride into the place.  Gravel again!!!  I inch slowly, and find a good spot where I can ride out without the need to back out.

Right there there are two Adventure style BMW 800GSes parked, and I see two young fellows sitting right outside, smoking.  I wave at them, and join for a smoke as well.

They are from Norway, working as professional divers.  Both, may be in their mid-late twenties.  When I heard that they have been riding from Alaska, and on the way to Argentina, my own little adventure looked not so big afterall.  They have been weaving around Oregon, Colorado, Utah, and Arizona through the back roads, unpaved trails and their adventure continues through Baja.  The next day they were going to Loretto, from where they will take a ferry and cross into mainland Mexico, and continue their journey to South America.  A brief thought occurred to me to join them, but everyone has their reality to deal with.  Their whole trip was going to take between 6-8 months.  Every day a different town, different people - would be great to do such a trip.

One of them says, "I have to do it now.  Once I get kids, I will not be able to do this for the next twenty years!".  I laugh heartily, agreeing.  I comment, "You guys are pretty brave to have undertaken such a trip.".  I am surprised at their humbleness, when the other adds, "Its well documented, and this stretch has been done by many before, we are not the first.  We are having the easy way.  Many have travelled much before the comforts of the information on the web, cell phones, weather forecasts.  They are more braver."  I could not help, but agree to what they said.

This is one of the best part of travelling alone, you talk more to strangers, and not caught up with the people (be it family or friends) around you.  And even others, they feel more motivated to talk to you.

I get back, unpack and put all of my electronic gadgets for charging, take a nice long shower, change into shorts, t-shirt and sandals, and went for a walk to see the surroundings.  The sun has gone down at this time, there is more darkness than light.  When I stepped out of the hotel, I did see a street side kitchen, and a lady serving tacos under the street light.  I walked around a couple of blocks only to be scared by some dark lonely areas, and a dog jumping from the darkness at me.  Thankfully he is in chains, and my heart skips another beat.

Quickly tracing back my steps to the Taco place, I am glad to see many locals standing around, and eating,  When the locals approve, the food must be good.

I also spot a grocery store right next to it.  I grab a couple of beers, to wash the tacos down, walk over to the taco place, and ask her to give me a few tacos - whatever she has.  The language was a problem, I could not understand what she was saying, and agree to eat whatever she gives.  Her husband who helps around, arranges a chair for me, and with a warm smile opens my beer bottle deftly with a cooking knife. 

Its a nice warm night... I always like the warm nights, so pleasant to sit outside, and start to sip my beer until the food arrives.  

Then, I get an unlikely good company.  When you are alone, you don't mind sharing your dinner with anyone.  This little fellow sitting by my side, wagging his tail eagerly for some morsels.  I gladly share my food with him.

I liked the food a lot.  After that, getting back to the motel, I flip through the channels.   Its an old 18 inch boxy TV, which is practically extinct in America.  But here it is.  Luckily there is a remote.  All the channels are in Spannish.  I end up with watching a few minutes of the transliterated version of The Transporter.  Having seen the movie before, its easy to ignore the fact that it was in spanish.  Then again, for those kind of movies, you can watch it in any language, without the need for understanding whats being said... Before I know, a deep slumber takes over.

The next morning, by the time I get up and stroll outside, the Norwegians were long gone.  I walk across the street to a little clean restaurant.  Have a coffee and an omelette.   The food was delicious.

My destination for today is La Paz,   Another 300 miles day.  Quickly saddling up, I start to ride.  For the first hour or so, I do have the big blue ocean for a company on my left.  Many of the stretches of the coast look very inviting, but I kept moving along.

Near Loretto, there is a nice pull over place.  In some ways, Mexico reminds me of India.  There are small religious temples of sort, nothing big, but small places built along the road such as these.  For a believer of a higher force, may be this gives a sense of security while travelling to remind there are eyes that watch, and hands that save.

Leaving Loretto, my ride continues, once again through hills to the hinterland, and around noon time I am close to Ciudad Insurgentes, where I find a Pemex and fill up, and relax as I just have about 150 more miles to go.  A pack of chips and some soft drink does the trick for lunch.

I am in a good mood, I decide to take a selfie in the good old style against the shop window :)

From there to La Paz, turns out to be one of the most challenging rides.  Almost 10 miles of pavement have been ripped apart for repair (felt certainly lot more, never ending).  The alternative, a unpaved road.  To add to my woes, its winding through hills with a lot of ups and downs.  Even though there are trucks spraying water to keep the dust down, the sand is soft, I try to follow the tracks of trucks, as the sand is more compacted than the softer midsection.  I probably was doing 5 miles per hour through the whole stretch.  The heat did not help much either.  After a never ending gruel, it was over, I do breathe a sigh of relief.  

I wonder how this place would be after a heavy rain, just this thought alone would haunt me until my return trip.  More about it later.

I was supposed to meet a friend of a friend in La Paz.  Laurence.  One other angel I would meet on the way.  This is one of the big cities of the Baja Peninsula, and quite infamous with the number of homicides.  But as I enter the town, it has many brand name shops we are familiar in the USA like Walmart, Home Depot etc. Clearly a recently developed area, was thronging with younger blood.  

We had agreed that we would meet in a Starbucks on the outskirts of La Paz, right along the Hwy 1. I find that place easily, and call up Laurence.  She says she will be the in half hour.

Entering Starbucks to get a coffee, feels really nice as its air conditioned inside.  Leaving the cozy, crowded interior, I find a table outside, just so I can spot the strangers I was supposed to meet.  I don't even know how she looks, but I had assured her on the phone that it should not be difficult to identify me - just look for a dirt covered, dark skinned, tired fellow, you can not go wrong :)

Sure enough, they walk straight to me.  Laurence is accompanied by her husband Luis.  Both of them are very nice folks.  Adjectives like nice and great hardly help to describe a person.  For some one to be hospitable to an absolute drifter based on the fact that I am an acquaintance of a friend of hers, was quite commendable.  They even suggested that I could stay the night in one of their flats which they recently purchased, and will be renting out soon.  I do accept the offer with gratitude.

Following them through the streets of La Paz, we end up on the ocean front community - a lot of restaurants, shops etc.  For some reason, I find the activity to be quite muted compared to the typical touristy spots else where.  La Paz, while it is a big city, does not attract too many tourists.  Mostly locals around, atleast at this time of the year.

Soon enough I park and unload my luggage in the flat, which is a very nice little comfortable place just a few blocks from the oceanside.  Fairly new and clean, it could be a nice place for a a person or a couple to hole up.

It felt refreshing to be out of riding suit and my shoes, to be back in street cloths after a long day.  We take a stroll towards a restaurant.  The sun was setting over the Sea Of Cortez.  The tourist in me, immediately stopped to soak in the warm weather, and take a few pictures.  My hosts wait for me patiently.  

I leave the choice of restaurant to them, and the place they chose was very rustic, and a good one.  A thatched roof building facing the ocean, with open varanda like space for seating on the first floor.  I do like such tropical setup.  My hosts, being locals, knew everyone in the restaurant - from the owner to passer-bys.  It was nice to see even total strangers greet each other as-if they have known you for a long time.  Our server was extremely nice to us, as my hosts order for me as well.  Later I came to know he was a grad student under Luis.

The sun has set by now, leaving the sky with pastel colors.  Our dinner starts with a Tequila shot and a beer.  I learn a lot about my hosts.  Both of them Marine Biologists.  The typical topics like how they met, to how long they have been living in the place, and how they like living in that place.  When it came to their professional life, it was also very interesting to hear Luis diving to monitor the health of corals in and around La Paz, and Laurence researching the wonderful lives of shrimps - these are very different than the high tech circles that we are in, most of our friends talk about silicon and software :)  

From their description of their life, it appears La Paz is quite a likable place.  I can imagine myself living there.  The only problem, my hosts say, is the occasional big hurricanes for which you have to brace yourself.

Our food arrives, and because I am spice-aholic, I ask for some hot sauce, and I get greeted with four different kinds.

Past dinner, settling back in the flat, I fall into deep slumber knowing that the next day is a short one.  A couple of hours ride from La Paz to Cabo San Lucas.  My hosts assured me that its a well paved highway between these two cities.

Getting up early next morning, I stroll down the coast one more time with a camera around my neck.  The morning scene is very reminiscent of one of my favorite coastal cities - Pondycherry (a coastal town in South India facing Bay Of Bengal),   Unlike the previous evening, the frontage road was relatively empty with occasional joggers, walkers and bicyclists.  The traffic on the road was also very sparse.

I find a few fishing boats moored near the coast gently rocking on the waters, and their reflections made a beautiful sight.  I soak up the surroundings, the warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze with the whole of my body and eyes.

A bunch of pelicans were perched on a far away rocks, frolicking in the morning sun, adds to the scenery.   Pelicans happen to be my favorite birds, and I spend more than enough time to hang around and watch them.

Of all the birds, the sea gull is the most easy to photograph, as they stand immobile for a long time, and probably they are more accustomed to humans, they do not fly away even when you are in close proximity.

A scene of La Paz coastal area.

The whole coast side is peppered with nice sculptures.

Ah, what wouldn't one do to lie down under that umbrella on a warm day sipping beer, staring into the horizon :)  On dreary long work days I shall try to remember this scene, and is bound to relax me :)

A nice looking bench, even though I felt it was better to make it face the ocean, looks like meant for people watching.

The sun was rising fairly quickly, and my mind tells me to get going, but I do not listen.

I find a little coffee shop, and decide to spend more time having a coffee.  The lady of the shop was very friendly with a smile that makes your day!

The joy of sipping coffee in a strange land with no hurry whatsoever, and looking blank at the ocean does not happen all that often, but this morning it does.  With a meditative state of mind, I enjoy my coffee.

A journey is made of people we meet on the road.  The kind strangers and their smiles, make much of the experience.  Until a while ago, I was shy of shooting strangers.  But now I am a little brave, and request for a picture, and the lady who made me the coffee shyly obliges.  She does not talk English, and I do not speak Spanish, so much of the talk was in sign language.   I thanked her profusely saying 'Grcias', and walk back to the flat.

I quickly pack up my mule, and head towards La Paz.  It was a bit slow leaving La Paz, but later the two lane high way was a pleasure to ride compared to the other recent roads I had been on.  In exactly two hours I reach Cabo San Lucas.

The problem with the Mexican addresses is that my GPS does not recognize the format.  So, I decide to use my cell phone to guide me.  The day was very hot, and my cellphone in the tank bag heated up, and quit working.  This is the first time I experience this - that the applications on the cell phone start to shut down if the device's temperature is too high.  The old way of making a few stops to ask strangers about how to get to the resort help more.  Finally I reach the destination.

It was unbearable heat outside, I unload the bike and park the bike, where it will rest for three more days.  I pat myself on the back, for a successful trip so far.  The return is going to be a repeat of my journey so far - no new surprises or unknowns.  So, felt good about making a good run on the way back.   

Its an all-inclusive resort.  I am immediately greeted by a lady with a tray full of fruit punches, near the checkin counter.  And I gulp down a couple of those - man, it felt good.

I was ushered immediately to our room, which will be my home for the next three days!.  

Sauntering out of the room, I find a bar area overlooking the sea.  Grab a cold beer and wait for my family to come.  

What a joy it was when they showed up!  I have not seen them for a week now, and it was a great prize at the end of the trip to see their happy faces, eagerly running into my arms.

Here I am at the southern most tip of Baja Peninsula!

Next:  The Return.