Osprey
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Location: Baja Ca. Sur
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Killer drought in Baja
I've been reading more than writing lately but here's a new story I just finished.
Rancho Abandonado
The problem was there were supposed to be two of us on this Baja adventure; me and Billy Vargas. His wife found a note from his girlfriend in his
truck, all hell broke loose and she threw him out of the house two days before we were supposed to leave. I figured he would go anyway, the sort of
‘to hell with her’ thing but he backed out completely. It really didn’t change my list of camping stuff except the food and booze.
Two years before, in 2013, I had made a great little trip up into the Gigantas west of La Paz but that time I didn’t have time to do anything but
sightsee – I wanted to get back up into the canyons, into the really rustic ranchos way up there away from the villages. I wanted to meet the people,
get a feel for the mountain life and learn more about that little corner of Baja Sur. I took some shore fishing gear in case I dropped down to camp at
San Evaristo, lots of candy for ranch kids, all the survival stuff for a solo trip in the back country.
One of the joys of living and working in Cabo San Lucas is that there are so many interesting things to see and do close to the tip of the peninsula.
As assistant food and beverage manager for a major Cabo exclusive resort, I can’t take large chunks of time off so little trips like this make it all
worth while for me. Olivia Minjares, my live-in Mexican girlfriend is a city girl from Monterey. She’s shift manager and bartender at the pool bars,
would rather have hot pokers in the eye than sleep on the ground up in the pucker brush of the Giant mountains.
I topped off the gas tank in El Centenario and near San Antonio I took a right and headed for the canyons. Some times in late October like this trip
the mountains are a jungle but much of that greenery comes from hurricanes and very little from rain squalls that come ashore or weather systems from
mainland Mexico to the east. Only one small hurricane has brushed this area in the last seven or eight years and every living thing is suffering from
the drought conditions. I heard many of the ranchos have been abandoned and the rancheros have had to move, lock stock and barrel, down to the
villages.
Our resort’s RO desal plant is running to keep up just like the other 20 or more resort systems in and around Cabo. The barrios in Cabo and San Jose
are mostly on ration while the governor is hard pressed to find the pesos for more pressas, reservoirs, since the last two new and improved dams were
built at San Lucas and Comondu.
I got up early, made good time over the 200 miles or so to the turnoff so this first day I would have seven full hours of daylight to scout around,
make camp, enjoy the full moon and mild weather of the last days of October. The dirt road into the mountains was well traveled but anything but
picturesque – sere and sorry cardon and scrub acacia, garbage and a lot of drab sameness for the first 20 miles or more. The little villages I
remembered from my last trip had not changed in any way that would give me reason to stop.
Finally spots of green began to appear in the mountain creases, garbage thinned out and some of the lomboy and San Miguel were leafed out in places.
My map showed most of the water, the canyons, the ranches were to the east toward a large mesa so I made that my general direction. When I found a
good place I drove a short way up an arroyo, stopped to check the truck, have a sandwich and a cold beer.
As I drove higher into the mountains I began to hope that hurricane Inez last year, which grazed La Paz as it crossed from the Pacific, over the Sea
of Cortez to the mainland, had given this area a much needed gift of rain. Once I passed Soledad I could see a dozen canyons worth exploring off to my
right as I motored closer to San Evaristo and a view of Isla San Jose. I chose one with a well defined ramal and picked my way up the canyon with the
wind at my back, a cold beer between my legs, my Sirius radio still finding tunes for me to suit the azure skies.
Locked out! Just as the canyon greened up and narrowed near the top, a big padlock and chain on the gate brought me to a disappointing reversal while
I wondered if the rancho was occupied or not, why the lockout? Never saw the place and probably never will.
The next canyon would take me up a road past Primera Agua; many of the palo verde and acacia were greened up and healthy, the San Miguel was in bloom
here and there with a touch of Yuca vine blazing yellow flowers dotting some of the Guaymuchile. Saw some quail cross the road that gave me hope of
water and people at the rancho if there was one. There was a ranch there and I could see the place from the gate. No lock here so I honked my horn and
had a beer while I waited to see if I could get an invite. Not a sound except for some more quail and the wind whistling through the palo verde.
I left the truck and walked up to the house while shouting hello. Not a sound, nothing, so I walked a short distance beyond the main house, past a
couple of small stick corrals, a pila and a series of drainage pipes and culverts. The air was alive with the whirring of the pods on some huge palo
escopeta trees behind the house. Near the pila I could hear wasps and bees down inside so I climbed up the rock stairs to peer into about three feet
of water covered with moss, bees and a dead sparrow.
I knocked on the door of the main house but I knew I wasn’t going to get a welcome shout from within. The door wasn’t locked so I pushed it open to
peer into the dim interior – abandoned, empty. Just too far to haul water, just not enough money to pay for water even if trucks could and would
delivery it from a reliable well close to the rancho.
I drove the truck through the gate and closed it. Don’t know why for sure; who or what was I hoping to keep in or out? Well, it was only for a night
and my plan was to leave the place exactly like I found it. Parked behind the house near the pila, had a beer, another sandwich and dialed up some
tunes that would be a counterweight to a cheerless reminder of the end of a clan unable, after seven or eight generations, to stay put any longer
using what they could find up here. Perhaps they were resigned and reconciled, if not satisfied, back in Soledad or Trinidad fashioning hand made
masks and costumes for the kids for Halloween.
It must have been the high-pitched white noise of the shotgun tree pods that fooled me because it seemed as though the first Halloween ghosts to
appear in the canyon just materialized before my eyes. A mama goat and a kid must have walked down from above somewhere to see who was back at the
ranch. They were anything but skittish, coming right up to me where I was busy building a double fire pit with a small windbreak for the night’s meal
and comfort.
Both animals were all the colors goats come in. The mama walked with a limp and when I noticed her strange gait I saw a wound on her right rear leg
that slowed her down a bit. I pulled a small tin pot from my cook kit, filled it with water and watched as they drank it. Just moments from their
surprise appearance I began to ache with each nudge and bleat – these left-behinds would want me to help them, save them, shepherd them away to a
place of everlasting fresh food and cool water.
What did I bring for them? Candy. Cokes and candy for the kids – the other kids. I had some bread, some tortillas, a couple of fiber bars. I broke all
that out and while they were deciding what was edible another little lost ghost came forward uninvited; a small tan puppy who must have been running
with these two scrounging around for anything chewable and a little water probably from a dying seep further up the canyon.
Who could leave these little guys to die? Maybe these animals were off foraging when the family was finally all loaded up like the Joads, everything
they ever owned piled high in a pickup or two. Maybe they honked, banged on a kettle with a stick, waited for them to appear as long as they could
before closing the gate behind them.
Somehow I don’t see these families like Mexican Bedouins, moving from camp to camp with the seasons but I have more questions than answers. Do they
leave hoping one day to return or are they completely resigned to a total change in how and were they live? Do they all have grant deeds to their
ranch property tucked safely in a tin box in the front of the truck? How much rain would it take for them to think they could live up here as before?
Perhaps the wonder of all this is that they were able to hang on so long; flood and drought and terrible winds, pestilence and blights couldn’t run
them off for nearly two hundred years.
The wind died when I was cutting up some raw spuds, opening a can of beans for the animals. Big birds must have seen my truck and activity at the
ranch because in the waning light several buzzards went to roost in the big trees. Just at dark two Great Horned owls joined them in the big escopetas
– to them, human activity means the promise of food. Mascots and fowl and livestock, gardens, bring insects and rodents, dead or dying, together.
I laid out one small steak, some pinto beans and tortillas for my dinner, set the rest aside for the animals. In the morning I would backtrack to
Soledad, buy some more food and water. I’d leave the rest of my water for these three or whatever else might show up. I made a nice fire, we all had a
big meal and I put down my sleeping mat and bag for a restless night. The hooting owls sounded like they were with me right beside the fire while the
goats kept a good distance from the fire. The puppy stayed close to me and growled at unseen critters, real or imagined, outside the circle of light.
No Holloween dreams or nightmares. Those would come later, back in my bed in Cabo. Watching these animals die, wondering at their incredible
endurance, seeing them finally succumb and then being torn apart by the scavengers.
In the morning I loaded up, put the food and water down for the animals and got out of Dodge while they were eating and drinking so they wouldn’t
follow me to the gate. Had a great breakfast at a little place in Soledad, bought more provisions, checked the mileage for my circle trip back through
San Juan de la Costa and felt I had plenty of gas for the trip.
El Bosque was almost a town and everything was a bushy green. I took a canyon to the north and this time found a rancho full of laughing playing kids,
lots of livestock, chickens, peahens, goats and dogs. This time the family invited me in and after the cokes and candy, beer, platicando, chit chat,
they invited me to stay the night. Here, at Segunda Agua, the gardens were lush with melons and chilis, coffee and sugar cane, mangos and sidra.
That night, comfortable on a cot they loaned me, on the gallery of the main house, I couldn’t help but wonder if the abandoned ranch was ever this
alive and green and wonderfully inviting. I was very glad I carried on, revised my travel plans to find the other side of life up here. Now I could
imagine my future dreams about the trip would be sprinkled with brighter visions – children laughing, climbing trees, chasing goats and chickens, lush
greenery everywhere and big, wet drops of life-giving rain.
Before we said our goodbyes I asked Camillo, the ranchero, if he thought he would ever run out of water. He said never, because his gran, gran
bisabuelo, his great, great grandfather, who settled this place had the magic eye for water, had passed up dozens of green mountain creases before he
settled here.
Only the survivors can tell such tall tales.
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captkw
Ultra Nomad
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Mood: new dog/missing the old 1
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no water
Hola,I've ben around these part's since 78/79 winter and It's past being a drought,,cows are skinny and dieing,my local friends wells are empty and
the veg,that is usally green, is brown and dieing.. the creek is but a trickle, compared to years past..the waterfall's are ,,well,,not realy fall's
anymore...god ,,I hope the rain's come this fall,,if not,,,god forbid,,something to pray about...and Im not reliegionest...K&T
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Osprey
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Location: Baja Ca. Sur
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I haven't been able to find anyone anywhere down here who has reliable info on recharge rates in and around the Laguna mountains. Without that data,
we can't know if it rains today (and for 10 days straight) how much of that water will make it to the aguafir or how long it will take for it to show
up again on or near ground level so we can use it.
Said another way: "If we have been using 100 year old water, how long might it take to fill it back up? 100 years, 20, 5?" Nobody really knows. A good
time to be a farmer in Baja Sur was anytime but now.
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shitedetector
Junior Nomad
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It's an awful one. On the mainland they are saying it is the worst drought in 70 years in the Northern states. It extends all the way into Texas.
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captkw
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osprey/all
ya,funny thing is a lot of gringos are showing up around these parts (sur de la paz) and are farming with glitter in their eye's..but the water table
is no longer a table,,,more like foot stool and the hard reality of the future is...........well....let's just say UVIA and not all at once,poco a
poco,,rather sad state today,,but I hope things are gonna change,,vios con dios..........K&T
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Osprey
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There are many kinds of drought. Cattle ranchers around here can haul water to animals in dry times as they have for many years but range cattle can't
get enough food value from range browse and bush because of the lack of moisture in the soil -- so many animals die of starvation with bellies full of
dead leaves and sticks. Even the adaptable coyote who can eat grass in tough times now starves because the grass holds nothing for his sustainence. A
grand new lake here could not feed the animals -- only rain can keep them going.
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Leo
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Nice story about a sad situation. Just hope we will get some more rain this spring, if not it has to happen by the end of summer for nature to survive
here in southern Baja.
The grass is always greener....
and so, there is always a better spot in Baja
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captkw
Ultra Nomad
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leo
HOLA< the rain season down here B.C.S. is late summer/fall...a long ways away !!! damn !! K&T
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BAJA.DESERT.RAT
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Hola Osprey,
thank you for your journey into unfortunately, drought stricken baja.
in 2004 while staying in the tent area of verdugo's in los barriles, there was a couple also staying there but would disappear for a couple of weeks
or so at a time.
when finally they reappeared, i asked what they did and where did they go. they told me they were biologists and were going into the mountain areas
and told me way up in the mountains southwest of los barriles, there were lakes that held the water from the storms and the water table in the los
barriles area was very high due to the water the mountains held.
wasn't the last big storm to pass over baja sur in 2006, hurricane john ?
if i'm correct, perhaps after five years, the mountain lakes have dwindled down to not much ?
strange, how we dread the storms from june to november or so but, how much we rely on them as well.
BIEN SALUD, DA RAT
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grizzlyfsh95
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.
i asked what they did and where did they go. they told me they were biologists and were going into the mountain areas and told me way up in the
mountains southwest of los barriles, there were lakes that held the water from the storms and the water table in the los barriles area was very high
due to the water the mountains held.
Hence the name " Los Barriles". It has been this way for centuries.
The harder I work, the luckier I get
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Osprey
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Storms came and went, rain fell or not but during those early centuries there were few people or animals here to use the water.
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shitedetector
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we all know where this is
[Edited on 2-20-2012 by chitedetector]
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captkw
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cascada's
ya, and now they charge a 70 peseo's per person,,and their is a nicer place than that to swim and soak,but no lakes,,sorry on that!!! K &T
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Leo
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Captkw,
I know when the main rainy season is amigo, but most Februaries, we get some good rainfal here in TS and in the mountains even more. Alas, this year
only one day of that about 10 days ago.
It is all the fault of the road-grader (just kidding). It used to be like when he did our road to Las Playitas, the rain would ruin it the next day.
He should come out more often.
The grass is always greener....
and so, there is always a better spot in Baja
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vgabndo
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Mood: Checking-off my bucket list.
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A regrettable topic, but an especially nice bit of wordsmithing. Two ears and the tail amigo.
Undoubtedly, there are people who cannot afford to give the anchor of sanity even the slightest tug. Sam Harris
"The situation is far too dire for pessimism."
Bill Kauth
Carl Sagan said, "We are a way for the cosmos to know itself."
PEACE, LOVE AND FISH TACOS
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captkw
Ultra Nomad
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LEO
Hola,ya we built one of the first house's at punta gordo (casa de rocka's) murry & Lynn,,talk about waiting for the water
truck...LOL....K&T
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