Family Guy
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Registered: 9-8-2003
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Trip Report Part 2, Ensenada to San Ignacio
tourist card problems, a PT Cruiser with wings, night driving, rustic panaderia, and killer tamales
The next morning, which would be Friday 19th, we met up with the Gull in front of Plaza Del Mar as planned around 6:00 am. After a little small talk
and the delivery of the fudge as promised we were on our way through the Central Desert with the final destination being San Ignacio. The Gull
sported the license plate ?slow roller? or something like that which we got a kick out of because there was nothing slow about this cruiser. We
arranged three planned stops and each time he waited a little bit longer for us to pull in. After leaving El Rosario together, we averaged about
65-70 miles per hour through the straight stretches of desert, pulled over a couple of times for potty breaks, passed our fair share of trucks and
arrived in Guerrero Negro only to discover the Gull had enjoyed a 90 minute lunch! I swear that cruiser must have had wings.
The early start was a huge plus for many reasons, including the fact that Maneadero was hardly noticeable (a whole different story on the way back
up). Our first stop was at the landmark Panaderia Carmen, a rustic bakery with a wood fired oven. I must say we were all a little underwhelmed upon
arrival. I don?t know what I was expecting, but this was clearly not it. A small shack in the middle of nowhere housed the most basic elements of
baking: a large wooden table with a couple of wobbly side tables, a pile of mesquite wood, and a primitive oven against the back wall that consisted
of a few bricks and stones for the floor and a sheet metal door. On the opposite wall an array of bakery items were laid out on a homemade shelving
unit. The proprietor who was aged, expressionless, and clearly ailing followed us into the bakery and stood behind a small counter. We purchased a
dozen or so items, took some pictures and headed back to our van. I will never forget the look on my son?s face when he tried to bite into his sugar
cookie; his teeth locked onto it but he couldn?t seem to make any headway. I ate a very brittle large flat cookie covered with chunky sugar crystals
that left a smoky aftertaste. In fact our whole bag smelled like it just came out of the smokehouse.
I don?t know why two weeks later we stopped again, perhaps just for a laugh, but things couldn?t have been any more different. The place was the
same, but the stock was ten times as much as our earlier visit and the goodies were absolutely heavenly. What was hard and brittle on the way down
was soft and billowy this time. We stocked up on pan dolce, sugar cookies, peanut flavored cookies, alligator backed sweat bread, more flat cookies
with sugar that just melted in your mouth this time, and we were absolutely astonished at the quality. We had eaten at El Boleo in Santa Rosalia a
few days earlier but this was clearly superior. How that man had managed to craft such wonderful breads and cookies out of that tin capped hole in
the wall was nothing short of miraculous.
On the way down, though, we still nibbled on a few cookies?the fact was you couldn?t really do much else but nibble on them, but it helped pass the
time. There wasn?t much to look at until we left El Rosario. Our view consisted of a variety of agricultural plots that culminated in huge
commercial operations in the San Quintin Valley. One noticeably bizarre aspect of the landscape was the fact that for miles you would see perfectly
manicured fields on the west side of the highway while the east side was covered in plastic bags and garbage, so plentiful that it looked like
someone?s crop. The boulders at Catavina never cease to amaze, and even the kids got excited. I wish we had time to stop, but we had a long way to
go and still needed tourist cards. The road was in remarkably great condition, and we just rolled through the desert without a hitch. We had brought
along a satellite phone because we knew the cell phones would die after leaving San Quintin, but we noticed long distance phone advertisements at
nearly every truck stop in the desert. Maybe someone else could attest to their reliability, but it certainly did seem that phone service was
available throughout this desolate stretch of road. We stopped at a couple of the truck stops to potty the kids. They usually consisted of someone?s
home miles and miles from the nearest town and a small restaurant. One thing we noticed that most of the truckers we encountered at these stops
traveled with their family. We would see the mother bringing food to the children or repacking blankets. They were extremely friendly and went out
of their way to say hi to our kids and us and flash a big smile as we both went our separate ways.
All of the checkpoints except for the crossing at Guerrero Negro simply waved us through. I did remember to look out for the tamale truck as posted
by David K and that was a special treat. We bought their last three chicken tamales and they melted in your mouth. They were, by the way, the only
tamales we saw the entire trip. We picked up our tourist cards in Guerrero Negro (the agents could not have been more pleasant in the small
immigration building) and met up with the Gull for the last time. It was pushing 4:30 and we needed to find a bank to pay and get our tourist cards
stamped. I made a cursory drive down the main drag in GN but we did not see a bank. At this point we had a choice to make. We could stay and try to
find a bank or push and try to make San Ignacio before dark. I explained that banks will be closed all weekend and there are not banks in Mulege, but
no one seemed very interested in staying so we left. We would worry about the tourist cards later. About twenty minutes south of San Ignacio we
began to try to figure out how long this last stretch would take. I became fixated on the sun which seemed to be moving down pretty quickly and was
reminded a little too often about how we cannot under any circumstances drive at night. ?I think we?ll make it,? I remember saying. Then it hit me
like a ton of bricks?the time change. Oh chit. It wasn?t 4:30. It was 5:30. How could I forget the time change? Right about this time we passed a
sign printed: San Ignacio 130 kilometers. It was merely a few minutes before the sun disappeared leaving us in pure blackness. Not only were we
going to be driving at night but we were going to do so with a new moon?
[Edited on 1-13-2004 by Family Guy]
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4baja
Super Nomad
Posts: 1339
Registered: 9-4-2003
Location: morro bay ca
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great report, next time buy a set of KC highlighters 165 watt sealed beam offroad lights and light up the road and no worrys. i like driveing at night
with the moon low on the horizon lighting up those cactis and boojums and the sly coyote running across the road hot on the tail of a jack rabbit. ha
ha baja!
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64541
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
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Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Great installment! That time zone change messes up everyone, just about!
On the unmapped short cut to Punta San Francisquito and Bahia de los Angeles coming from Hwy. 1, near Vizcaino, there is just a sign at the state
border with the new time zone painted on each side... That's all, but that is more important than telling you: "This is the 28? latitude and you are
in a new state!"
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Juan
Junior Nomad
Posts: 76
Registered: 8-31-2003
Location: Olympic Peninsula and Baja Sur
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Mood: Life is good.
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great report
Sounds like you had a fun time. I'm looking forward to the next installment.
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Natalie Ann
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 2819
Registered: 8-22-2003
Location: Berkeley
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Family Guy, I like your style... please keep the story comin'!
Be yourself, everyone else is already taken.
.....Oscar Wilde
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Bob H
Elite Nomad
Posts: 5867
Registered: 8-19-2003
Location: San Diego
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Hey Family Guy... great trip report. I'm hankering to go down, but have to wait till the last two weeks in April. Looking forward to your next
installment.
Bob H 
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Neal Johns
Super Nomad
Posts: 1687
Registered: 10-31-2002
Location: Lytle Creek, CA
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Mood: In love!
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Good story and writing! Especially for someone that lives in Canada (anywhere north of Santa Barbara)
My motto:
Never let a Dragon pass by without pulling its tail!
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