Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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Anyone know what happened to 'Searoom'...
...from the old Amigos de Baja boards...he had the greatest style in telling of his Baja adventures...aparently he didn't make the 'switch' here to
the Nomad boards...
I saved several of his old Amigos posts, here's one to tease you...
From: searoom
Date: 9/5/2001
Remote name: 207 105 89 228
Comments;
"She said she wanted 'outta the car' at kilometer marker 62. so I dropped her off as requested. Perhaps she didn't know that a VW Bus only goes 50
mph when fully loaded. Or perhaps that the only hotel was behind us in Catavina. Or maybe that the melting ice in the cooler was her path to better
understanding her earthly essence. Whatever. I idled the old Kombi down the road to Jesus Maria, fueled her up, bought a Tamale from the old lady
and returned to the turnoff. Little footprints lead down the dusty road to the sea. A red truck with "Steve-The-Mayor" rambled by with my girl
riding shotgun, a brandy bottle pressed to her lips. I pressed on towards the point. High tide was coming on fast, I needed a surf before sunset."
[Edited on 3-3-2006 by Mexray]
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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Mike Humfreville
Super Nomad
Posts: 1148
Registered: 8-26-2003
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Mexray
I don't remember Searoom, but I do remember Seatwill (from his posts and one of the Amigos getogethers). Please pass on some more of Searoom's
writing. That one paragraph certainly set the stage for more...
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Bob H
Elite Nomad
Posts: 5867
Registered: 8-19-2003
Location: San Diego
Member Is Offline
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Mexray, that was GREAT! We gotta find this lost amigo soon! Please post more if you have them.
Bob H
PS: Searoom, Where are you?!
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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OK, you asked for more Searoom...
From: Searooom
9/19/01
(Amigos de Baja Board)
"Loose Tooth near Catavina"
"My tooth was still loose as we pounded over the sand berms to get behind the rocks north of Catavina. I had tried salt and whiskey, lemon and
tequila, beer and aspirin, nothing was going to get rid of the pain. "Should we turn around?" I asked the dog. I received no reply but a long yawn.
Yeah it was getting late and my damned tooth hurt. I build a small two stick 'squaw fire', better to not be seen from the highway in the chilly,
clear winter night, and started nudging that damed tooth with a pretzel stick. Actually it was a Mr. Salty, and damn if that molar didn't pop out!
Nice work and on the with the trip! Except the blood. Damned bleeding wouldn't stop so I went back to the whiskey and salt, no luck. Looked like I
was going to bleed to death the slow way so I rolled into Catavina.
The painless dentist was out of town according to the kid sucking gas out of the 55 gallon drum, but his assistant was close at hand, and ready to
work! The assistant was working on his truck under a 12 watt clear light bulb behind a nearby shack. He wiped most of the grease from his hands and
set to work. The procedure was painless, thanks to the whiskey and I found out a new use for tire plugs and rubber cement.
God I love Baja, and the good souls who frequent this website and share in the joys that still abound south of the border. Where will we all meet us
from here?"
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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More great Searoom tales...
From: Searoom
10/3/01
Amigos de Baja Board
"Story about a past Chubasco"
Reading the latest on Juliette reminds me of the El Grande Chubasco at Pt. Conejo many years back. My ex-ex-ex girlfriend (not to be confused with
the other two after her) was all aflutter at the prospects of going home after 3 weeks in the bush. She was going on about washing hair, sitting on a
'real' toilet, washing clothes, and drinking a cold beer for a change.
We bedded down under a rapidly changing sky and a building ill directioned wind. All of a sudden in the middle of the night the humidity shot up and
we rolled the door open. The next thing we know it sounded like Mama Gomez was slapping out a batch of tortillas! Then the wind and rain hit us all
at once. I could barely force the door closed and the awning was flying straight off of the other side of the bus.
There was a mad scramble in the arroyo as the feral Australian surfers; the guys with one spoon, one sleeping bag, two surfboards and a huge bag of
pot made for higher ground.
We felt pretty snug in the old bus until the water started to seep in through every old door gasket and finally, the rust hole in the roof. In fact,
we were almost asleep in our little waterproof cocoon until I heard that faint unmistakable sound of a nibbling mouse somewhere in the bus. Grabbing
a flashlight I caught the little bugger making his way into a bag of Trader Joe's wasabi peas, served the bastard right!
Dawn broke through the storm. My ex-ex-ex girlfriend had that look in her eye that told me she had had enough, forever. So I diverted my attention
the the mouse. I wasn't going to bring him home. Grabbing the Hawaiian sling from the rack I laid in wait as my exIII watched wide eyed from the
front seats where she had moved her bed. the first shot went wild and I pierced the cooler something fierce. ExIII gasped, it was my time to shine.
The second shot was closer, as I drew sparks off of the door frame, the third shot hit it mark! (My apologies to all the PC non-hunters out there, you
don't sprinkle snail killer in your gardens?)
I exited the bus into the full blown glory of the storm. The Australians were cowering under a blue tarp lashed onto (the) side of their pinto wagon
which they had extracted from the arroyo. We exchanged knowing glances as I walked toward the torrent which was a dry arroyo only hours ago and
deposited the little unwanted intruder. Struggling against the wind as I made my way back to the bus, little did I realize that this storm was going
to set us back five days from our scheduled return date. There would be hell to pay."
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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...and another Searoom ditty...
From: Searoom
12 Oct 2001
Amigos de Baja Board
"Benzadrino"
The small dot in the rear view mirror slowly became a medium size truck hanging off of the bumper waiting for his chance to pass somewhere near Hughes
Dry Lake. The dingle balls had to obstruct the drivers vision, or the tint on the bottom of the windscreen. Either way, the bastard was hugging me
pretty closely and I would have pulled a 'VW Bus reverse pass' (IE - pull over) but the lack of shoulder room and the speed put us into a strange
mid-desert driving situation.
I know I should never drive at night and the sun was getting close to down, but the truck behind me started to worry both myself and the always
hysterical copilot for the 'quick trip', my grandpa. "She is going to run you off the road!" cried the old man. And I gripped the wheel tighter
because the old man had been rambling down that very same road since post WW II days. "She isn't as bad as when she was all dirt!" He would remind
me every few hours.
The truck was no closer to passing than before. the old man was snoozing. The sun was going down and I switched on the running lights sans
headlights, Baja style. I roused the old snoring man and let him know the truck was going to pass and to hang on for the blow-by speed wobbles that
only a VW Bus driver knows.
And here she came, alongside now and all I saw was the word "Benzadrino" hand painted on the side door. She blew around us and Gramps started to say
that she was of the old variety of Baja Truck, but going way-way faster than he remembered. The tail lights were only mere yards ahead of us as the
bus settled into drafting mode. Suddenly the lights were gone. So suddenly that both Gramps and I were startled.
Later, as we built a fire and put on the kettle Gramps asked if we had really seen a truck. "Of course", I replied. "I don't know", he continued,
"After I thought I saw those headlights, we came around that dry wash turn. I was looking right and saw three old crosses planted on a mound
surrounded by a sea of broken glass. Then I looked forward and she was gone..." "I guess I am getting old and superstitious." That night I climbed
into my bag and reflected upon my first encounter with Baja ghosts. Dawn was a long way off.
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64540
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Can an email be directed to that PC ID # that was with our Amigos de Baja posts? Doug, can you invite him here...? Tell him Mexray is posting his
stories because they were so fun!
I don't remember him (at the moment)...
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64540
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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| Quote: | Originally posted by Mike Humfreville
I don't remember Searoom, but I do remember Seatwill (from his posts and one of the Amigos getogethers). Please pass on some more of Searoom's
writing. That one paragraph certainly set the stage for more... |
Yes, SeaTwill was a guest at my Viva Baja #3... He and a hundred+ other Baja loving people can be seen at http://vivabaja.com/vivabaja3 I just don't recall a SeaRoom... Hope he pops up!
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jeans
Super Nomad
Posts: 1059
Registered: 9-16-2002
Member Is Offline
Mood: Encantada
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Does anyone know what happened to Shevy?
Good idea, Mexray...I saved this story in July of 2002 when Part 2 never materialized. The end of Amigos came a few months later...don't remember
exactly when...
Posted by Shevy in 2002:
Me and two of my friends decided to plan what we called our Last Great Baja Trip. We had gone on surfing trips down the Baja before on numerous
occasions, but we figured this might be our last opportunity to do it together. We were graduating from graduate school, and after the summer, we were
all heading our seperate ways (in body, but not in spirit). Thinking back over the fun times we had, we wanted to include everything that we loved,
and also try something new on our trip. We planned on making it last two weeks and thought about the trip for at least four or five months prior to
our adventure. We decided to spend a week down on the East Cape, and then move up to Scorpion Bay for the second week.
Having made our plans, we headed out late on a Friday night, stopped in San Clemente for groceries, and made for the border. We slept at San Jacinto
and moved out early in the morning when the sun revealed that there were no waves. We drove most of the day and camped on the beach at Santispec
(sp?). We always stop there on our way south and it didn't let us down; the water was warm and it wasn't too hot. We were stoked and headed out early,
wanting to make it to nine palms to catch an evening surf session before the sun went down.
We got down to the east cape and had an OK session at nine palms. The waves were about three feet, which wasn't great, but it felt great to get in the
water after a long day of driving. We heard the usual story from other surfers, "You should have been here last week!"
We stayed there for about five days, surfing and sleeping and fishing on the beach. But it started to warm up. A lot. The waves had all but
disappeared, so we left and headed up to Los Cerritos and caught some wind swell. It was cooler, and we decided to stay in San Pedrito. Because the
waves were not picking up, we decided to head out to Scorpion Bay. We packed up and cruised up the road, a song in our hearts and not a care in the
world. The smiles faded a bit when we hit the dirt road that heads out to the bay. It was REALLY bumpy and we had to go really slow, even with tires
aired down. I had thought that the road to Punto Conejo was bad, but this one took the cake.
As we creeped along, we were passed by a pickup truck full of Mexicans. They shouted and waved at us and were very friendly. I couldn't figure out why
until I saw the beer cans tossed from the back. It seemed like a good idea so we broke out a beer and kept going. After a while we came upon the
pickup parked on the side of the road. Apparently it's hard to drink beer in the back of a pickup with no shocks on a bumpy road. We smiled and waved
and passed them and they smiled and waved back. Before long they came cruising up behind us, waving and smiling again. We passed them later as they
were parked again, getting tanked. This went on four or five times and made the drive more fun than I would have thought.
We arrived at SB and found a camp site on the cliff above second point. We stayed there for three days, surfing little waves and relaxing. But the
swell died and, in light of the fact that my wife wasn't happy that I was missing our anniversary, I mentioned that maybe we should head back.
We decided that the southern road (the one we came in on) was way out of our way, not to mention that the washboard road had practically shaken loose
my teeth and eyeballs. We wandered up to the resturant at SC to try and get the skinny on the other two roads (north and east roads). One guy we
talked to said he had taken in the east road, and wouldn't recommend it. Disappointed, we kept asking around about the north road. Eventually we
talked to someone who had come in on the north road. He said that we should try it. Not being familiar with the road, we asked him for advice. He told
us, "It's really easy. There are a lot of branches off the road, but just stick to the one that is most travelled. Take the road that travels closest
to the water. But if the road is wet, stay away from it." No problem we thought. Ha Ha! Were we ever wrong!
We headed out of town, stopping to get some gas from a guy selling it out of drums. For the first hour or so we had to stay on the continuation of the
bumpy road that we came in on. We eventually found the turn-off for the north road and punched the gas as we headed off the main road. At first the
going was easy, and the road was in good enough shape to move relatively fast. But eventually the road started to fork, with both branches looking
just as travelled. After several wrong turns and several stops to ask for directions, we found the road that runs across the salt flats.
This road is great. It is hard-packed dirt/salt that looks like blacktop. It is smooth, so we moved along at a good clip. We seemed to be following
the right road and making the right turns because we continued to head in the right direction. I was driving and I became complacent, not paying good
attention.
After about 45 minutes we topped a sand dune and looked down into a little valley or wash. The road ran right through it. It looked to be OK, and we
didn't pay much attention to white patches on the road. We entered the valley and started across it. We were busy talking and the first clue that
something was wrong was the big wave of salt water that splashed over the hood and onto the windshield. I immediately grasped the importance of our
circumstances and summed up all of my intricate reasoning and assessment of the situation in two words, "Oh flock!" One of my friends apparently came
to the same conclusion I had and echoed my sentiments. My other friend, with whom I earned a theological degree, sought the help of divine
intervention, or at least I think that was what he meant when he said, "gosh darnmmmmm!"
In a panic I reached down and switched on the 4WD of my trusty Ford Exploder. The salt flats just laughed (I heard it, I swear), and we started to get
bogged down in the mud. My co-pilot, in a fit of shear panic, yelled, "Just punch it!" In a panic I followed his advice and stepped on the gas. I
think that he was planning on reaching the end of the valley before we got stuck. Apparently the 3/4 of a mile ahead of us seemed a lot closer to him
than it really was.
We became stuck. For those of you unfamiliar with the salt flats, they are a unique place. They are covered by a thin, hard coating of dry mud. You
can walk on it, but tires sink like the Titanic. Underneath the crust is mud. And more mud. It probably goes all the way to China.
We jumped out of the truck and saw that all four wheels were stuck, all the way up to the chassy. I started to stomp around, yelling, cursing, and
sweating profusely. I wasn't panicking. Of course not. I just didn't want my friends to think they were alone in their panic, so I put on a good show.
OK, I lie. I was freaking out. I looked across the flat and saw a water mirage on either side. It was very cool, but I didn't enjoy it at the time.
Pictures raced thru my mind that involved explorers discovering skeletons huddled around an old truck. You know how when something bad happens you
tell yourself, "It's alright. Things will work out."? Well, I kept saying that but I didn't really believe it. The real situation sunk in:
We hadn't seen another car all day long on the road. Due to great planning we were low on water. It was a 60 mile walk back into town.
I gotta run, but I'll try and conclude this in a day or two.
Shevy
Mom always told me to be different - Now she says...Not THAT different
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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Jeans....
....er...we never got the rest of the story because they're still down there, stuck in the mud!
Just another fun 'run' to Baja...there's a million stories out there, and many Amigos and Nomads continue to bring em' to light for all our enjoyment.
Isn't our life here great!
[Edited on 3-3-2006 by Mexray]
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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Another dose of Searoom's 'joy'....
From: Searoom
28 Oct 2001
Broken Clutch Cable - 400 miles to go...one way.
I had to let my friend Big Ted drive the bus for a spell, he was getting itchy and I was afraid he might snap at any moment and start drinkin' (no not
'drinking' like you or I, but 'drinkin' - like some damned fool frat boy on his first trip to San Felipe).
Ted was doing OK. I cautioned him in regard to the 3,500 rpm limit, the oil temp, the oil pressure, weird noises, new found shimmies and shakes,
speed wobbles, unknown squeaks, dirty exhaust gasses, side winds, cactus spines in the side wall, and more of the thousand and one things that can go
wrong with the VW Bus when in flight.
As we rounded that tight turn in El Rosario, and headed for the Vizcano I felt a weird release as Big Ted miss-shifted into third. A twang like a
piano going out of tune. We climbed up the hills and were flying down that last hill that dumps you out onto the desert floor towards Catavina when
the clutch pedal hit the floor under the not too delicate foot of Big Ted. That bastard!
So we pulled over and I grabbed the spare cable, grease lube, and hand cleaner while Big T was relieved of his driving position for the rest of the
trip and dove into a bottle of Cutty Sark. While parked on the side of the road in the dwindling light I thought back to all of the countless trips
bus # 5 had made to Baja and a deep chill ran up and down my back.
Here I was looking deep into the heart and guts of a vehicle which we were trusting to take us to Guerrero Negro, on to El Arco and into 'the chit'
beyond. Rebuilt carb, gas pedal jimmied together with a spare piece of stove, pop top held on with silicon, heater tubes more duct tape than tube. I
always seem to forget to complete the repair upon return to the US.
I doused the wing nut with WD40 and somehow got the thing loose and removed the broken cable as the sun hit the deck. The new cable was unwound in
the dirt as Ted set sail on the SS Cutty. I couldn't get the damned thing to feed! A crimp in the tube was found and I started to deal with it as I
heard the sound of tires on gravel and then a car door closing.
Damned I felt scared and vulnerable under the car with only a pair of vise grips near by. Mean P-ncher's, but the foe must be slow of foot and must
really stand still as one adjusts the jaws on the tool... The man was lean and lanky and held his cowboy hat in his hands as I realized it was Sunday
and he offered his help or a ride to town. The guy probably had a hot date but he stopped anyway, to me typical Baja Rancher Style. But I waved him
on and had the chance to return the favor three years later, but a different story.
I got the cable in and adjusted. Lumped Ted into the sleeping compartment in the back of the bus and rolled off into the pitch black no moon night.
What would Baja be without the kind Ranchers and old VW Bus driving Gringos?
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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bajajudy
Elite Nomad
Posts: 6886
Registered: 10-4-2004
Location: San Jose del Cabo,BCS
Member Is Offline
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I sure hope this guy surfaces. His stories are wonderful. "Ted set sail on SS Cutty"
He certainly has the Baja spirit and knows of its magic.
Come out! Come out! where ever you are.
Ally Ally in free!
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Pompano
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8194
Registered: 11-14-2004
Location: Bay of Conception and Up North
Member Is Offline
Mood: Optimistic
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Searoom...if you are still there... por favor, some more?
I do what the voices in my tackle box tell me.
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Bruce R Leech
Elite Nomad
Posts: 6796
Registered: 9-20-2004
Location: Ensenada formerly Mulege
Member Is Offline
Mood: A lot cooler than Mulege
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I think he has gone into hiding
Bruce R Leech
Ensenada
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fdt
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 4059
Registered: 9-7-2003
Location: Tijuana, Baja California
Member Is Offline
Mood: Yeah, what if it all goes right
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Now that we are going back to those days
Does anyone know what Bill Kitto is up to these days?
 
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Pompano
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8194
Registered: 11-14-2004
Location: Bay of Conception and Up North
Member Is Offline
Mood: Optimistic
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Bill Kitto...here's his interesting report on a Baja highway accident about 4 years ago.
http://math.ucr.edu/ftm/bajaPages/Reports/KittoAccident.html
And some more current info on Bill Kitto. Is this the fellow in question?
http://ic_spearguns.tripod.com/billkitto.html
[Edited on 3-3-2006 by Pompano]
I do what the voices in my tackle box tell me.
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eetdrt88
Senior Nomad
Posts: 986
Registered: 2-20-2005
Location: Az/Ca/Baja
Member Is Offline
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Searoom has got skills
when it comes to writing...i've got a few of these little ditties in my head from various trips over the years,i'd love to be able to put pen to paper
and let it roll like this guy does,very good stuff
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Mexray
Super Nomad
Posts: 1016
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: California Delta
Member Is Offline
Mood: Baja Time
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My last 'Searoom' story...wish I'd kept more.
From: Searoom
09 Dec 2001
Amigos de Baja Board
Subaru? You'll find the remains of my 89' near Pta. Catarina outback as a Baja Car? Saw a 97....
She was full of beer, surfboards, fishing gear, tools, shell collections, a niece, a nephew, ex girlfriend III, and lots of sand.
We were LOW to the ground, came around the big bend out of the crux arroyo and impaled the bugger on the needle rock after side slipping on some ultra
slick goo. You know the stuff that forms in sheets with a little bit of rain? Comes off in slabs or if you walk on it, it makes your shoes go from a
size 9, 3 lbs to size 18, 25 lbs?
Forget the skid plate, she was cracked bad. Lightning and rain by nightfall. Screaming kids, angry girlfriend. Camped high and dry and caught a
ride with some fishermen who were putt-putting along in an old Pinto wagon. God Bless the fishermen who have seen it all, and always seem to be
hauling our grigo butts out of some stupid situation.
She was stripped bare by the time I could get the gang on the bus north and myself back out to the wreck site. The last time I owned anything besides
a VW Bus. Treat 'em as a slow go and be aware of coming down hard on anything.
According to my clock...anytime is \'BAJA TIME\' & as Jimmy Buffett says,
\"It doesn\'t use numbers or moving hands It always just says now...\"
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bajajudy
Elite Nomad
Posts: 6886
Registered: 10-4-2004
Location: San Jose del Cabo,BCS
Member Is Offline
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Got MORE
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