Bay Area to Todos Santos and back, July 10-26, 2009

This was the best vacation we’ve ever had! We drove from Martinez, CA and back—we made it as far south as Todos Santos. Although we planned to get all the way around the cape, too many interesting side trips came up. To everyone who said it would be too much driving, you were right. Everyone who said it would be too hot, you were right. Everyone who said we would have a great time even if it was too hot and too much driving, you were the most right of all!

It may take me awhile to get the whole trip posted (I can be kind-of verbose, sorry in advance). Plus, we took over 800 pictures and many, many of the them are not good... I’m still sorting through them and I promise not to post them ALL, but there may be a lot.

Day 1, July 10—to Anaheim
We left around 3 p.m. and had an uneventful drive (the best kind). We stayed in Anaheim for the night.

All packed!




Day 2, July 11—to San Quintin
We got a medium-early start, and got our FM-Ts at San Ysidro. We pulled into the secondary inspection parking and told the guy that we had nothing to declare, we were just parking to go to the immigration office. He asked us to open the car, anyway, but when he saw how tightly it was packed, his shoulders dropped as if to say, “F*** it.” He closed the door and pointed to the immigration window. On the way out, I made sure to catch his eye and he waved us through.

Woohoo! We’re on our way!




We stopped in Ensenada to hit the bank, get gas, and buy booze. We got lost, of course. I always get lost in Ensenada. It’s like Los Angeles that way for me.

Here is the very helpful guy in the Walmart parking lot. He directed traffic, showed us to a parking space, and helped us unload. What a nice man!




When we got gas, the attendant washed every single window. They were shiny and beautiful. Not 10 minutes later, we were on a detour in Maneadero, driving in great clouds of red dust (we got pictures of this on the way back). And along comes the water truck...Kaploosh! We were drenched, then dusted with more clouds of red dust. Oh well, the car was going to get dirty eventually.

Valle de Santo Tomas




Stuck behind a truck




Fire on the hillside




A little reminder about why you always need to be alert while driving in Mexico—







We got to San Quintin around 7:00. We had been planning on staying at the Old Mill. I stayed there 8 years ago, and I loved its location on the bay. We got there, and it was every bit as charming as I remembered...BUT there were about 10 Baja Missions vans parked around and a great big pile of luggage in the center of the compound. Uh, oh. We went into the office and talked to Jim. He said they were full, Don Eddie’s was full, and Los Jardines was full. Then another guy came into the office (pretty sure it was Don Eddie), said something about having a room, and they went out and talked for a minute when Jim came back in, turned out they did have a room after all. $35. Um, OK.

Anyway, despite the thousands of shiny, scrubbed teenagers on a mission, the place really does have oodles of charm. It is not luxurious, but then, that is not what we were looking for. We got a room in the original building and it was clean and cute. The bed was not the most comfortable, but it wasn’t terrible, either. All in all, totally worth 35 bucks.










We ate dinner at Don Eddie’s, because it was late and we were tired. As expected, the food was over-priced and mediocre. The margaritas were good though. Mark had a couple, then started telling the bartender and waiter that “Tequila makes everyone family. How do you say that in Spanish?”






After dinner, we walked down the path past the lights of the hotel, and the stars were AMAZING. It was a clear night, with no moon and no city lights. I can’t remember ever seeing the Milky Way that clearly.

There was a band playing in front of the restaurant next to the hotel, and they were really, really good! During a break, we told them they needed a tip jar, and they said they would gladly accept tips if people left them on the speakers. So we tipped them, and for the next hour, they dedicated every song to “Our new friends from California, our very, very good friends.”

They set up on this deck.




More to come...

[Edited on 8-2-2009 by LisaR.]

Nice report, Lisa, continue. Can't wait to see when you arrive at Todos Santos.

The photos you attached, makes me dreaming again of Baja, even if it passed only some months from then.

Bye Pal57

I can tell this is gonna be a fun trip, LisaR...
so have at it in words and pix. I promise to enjoy the ride.

Fact is, I'm stuck in Cornfield Illinois with family, am soooo wishing to be in Baja.
Your trip report's gonna be my fix.

Thank you!

Nena

Keep up the great posting, Lisa. Lovin' it. One small question: When in Todos, you were less than an hour from Cabo. Not that there was anything neccesarily needed to see there, but you could have at least said you did it! I was once in Coeur D'alene Idaho on business, and just for the heck of it and so I said I was there, I hopped on the interstate and drove across the Montana line, turned around and came back.

Don't ask......

No...

Days 3-4, July 12-13—to Bahia de Los Angeles

In the morning we packed up and headed out. We stopped in El Rosario for gas, and turned down the dirt road across from the Pemex station and Mama Espinoza’s, looking for the mission. We didn’t find it. We did find an old drunk guy, clutching a bottle in a paper bag and staggering down the middle of the street. It was about noon. We figured that we would try to find the mission on the way back up, hopefully armed with better directions, but in the meantime, we wanted to make sure that we made it to BoLA well before dark.

South of El Rosario, the scenery starts to get really spectacular. We stopped at a turn-off that felt like the top of the world to look around and take some pictures.










Mark is amazed...










Alone on a hill...




When we came down into the valley and into the Valle de Cirios and Cataviña Boulder fields, the landscape got really amazing. It looks like another planet.







Again, we pulled off to look around and take pictures.






















On the road again, it looks like God had landscaping rocks delivered, but he hasn’t decided what to do with them yet.




We stopped in Cataviña for lunch. We pulled into the Desert Inn because we really, really needed to go to the bathroom, we were starving, and we hoped the restaurant would have air-conditioning (it didn’t). The menu was over-priced, and we afraid it would be over-priced and mediocre. It wasn’t. We both had the mixed fajitas and they were great! I don’t know what they marinated the meat in, but it was absolutely delicious.

The Pemex pump there is out of service (foreshadowing...).

We headed south and turned off at Punta Prieta for Bahia de Los Angeles. The road is beautiful and in great condition. It took us under an hour from the turn-off.

Here is our first view of town with the Sea of Cortez:




The sculpture coming into town:




We took a right heading into town and followed the main street to Guillermo’s, which is where we thought we were going to stay. We parked next to the restaurant. The compound was somewhat bare and unappealing. We walked up to the restaurant and wandered around looking for someone to talk to about a room, but there didn’t seem to be anyone who had any interest in helping us. We went back outside and I was attacked by a 3 inch long black wasp-like thing! OK, maybe I’m exaggerating. Maybe it wasn’t attacking; it just wanted to get to know me. Regardless, I scurried back to the car and we drove away. Strike one.

This time we drove north of town to Villa Bahia. We followed the dirt road down toward the bay with high hopes. We got out and wandered around, looking for someone. There was a sign for the officina, but there didn’t seem to be an officina. There were, however, lots of barking dogs and screaming babies. Strike two.

We headed back south a little to Larry and Raquel’s. The compound is beautiful and quiet, right on the bay. We found a very nice, helpful woman to talk to almost immediately, and... They have a fishing tournament scheduled and every single room is booked. Strike three and we’re ou...Wait, this isn’t baseball—we can keep playing! She recommended we try Costa del Sol. So back into town we go.

At this point, we were exhausted, sweltering, and badly in need of an icy cold cerveza. Don’t forget, we’re Bay Area people and summertime highs in Martinez tend to be in the ‘80s with a light breeze. This was our first day in the serious heat and we were not yet acclimated. We pulled into the parking lot at Costa del Sol, walked up and were immediately greeted by Victoria (she runs the hotel and restaurant with her daughters). “Quiere un quarto?” Si, por favor. We followed her to see the room. “Quanto?” “$60,” she said, opening the door. We were hit with a blast of ice cold air. Perfect. We’ll take it!

(A side note, she quoted the price at $60, and we heard a couple of people checking in try to bargain it down. “My friend stayed here for $35...” etc. But she was quite firm, “The air-conditioning is expensive to run, in the summer it is $60.” But she is clearly not trying to rip people off. When we checked out and paid, she told us that the conversion was 13 to 1. When she figured the amount in pesos, I guess she thought it was too much, because she re-figured it at 12 to 1 and charged me that amount. The final charge on my credit card actually came out to about $52 a night.)

Here is Victoria:




One of her daughters behind the counter in the restaurant:




We got settled in and took a couple of beers to sit at the outside tables. A couple of guys walked by, and we said hello and started chatting with them and offered them a couple of beers. Being friendly and saying hello to people is a great way to make friends. Giving them beer, as well...instant amigos! They were really nice guys, Gordon and Robert, and very knowledgeable about the area. They had been there fishing for several days. They had planned on staying longer, but the yellowtail fishing had been so good that their ice chest was full, so they were leaving the next morning. They had to run to the market, but we would see them later.

Next, Dale and Carleen check in. We said hello, offered beer, and hey! More new friends!

Later, we went to get dinner and drove down to Guillermo’s. We had heard they had great margaritas and a bay view. Well, same thing as when we were there earlier. The restaurant and bar were pretty much empty, and no one seemed to have any interest in helping us. Back to Costa del Sol, as Gordon had told us earlier that the food there was really good. He was right. A particular standout is the breaded shrimp. And the price? About six bucks. Wow! The dinners are served with rice, salad, and the most amazingly delicious cream of carrot soup. Really, crema de zanhoria. I loved it!

Dale and Carleen, and Gordon and Robert turned up at the restaurant, as well. We introduced them to each other, and a party was born! Dale had brought his boat, but needed information on guides, local hotspots, best lures/bait, etc. Gordon was very knowledgeable about the area, and in fact, at some point the two of them left to go talk to some guy. They came back with a pile of lures and a guide booked for the next day. Carleen and I got to talking about whale sharks in the bay, and she a Dale offered to take us out on their boat the next day to look for them. Sweet! What a fun night, and what nice, fun people!

The next morning, we set out adventuring. First, we headed north up the bay. We drove up to the turtle sanctuary, but it was closed, and we could see through the chain link fence that there was one sad, lonely (I’m anthropomorphizing, I know,) turtle sploshing despondently in a tank of gross green water. We heard later that the director of the facility had left, and it is not being kept up. Sad. I can’t help but think that the one turtle there would be happier and healthier if left “unprotected” in the wild.

From there, we drove a little further north, and followed signs for an art studio off the main road. We pulled up at a house, and Greg, the husband of the artist, Sandi, got up to meet us. He opened the studio for us and we bought a few small pieces. Nice stuff. Sandi painted the mural inside the restaurant at Costa del Sol, too.

We chatted with Greg for awhile, and asked him for information on driving the San Borja route out the next day. “How’s the road?” we asked. He craned his neck to look around us at our car (which is not 4-wd, but it is high-clearance). “You should be fine,” he answered. This is not the last time we got this response, the looking at the car before answering, when asking about a road. We soon learned what it meant.

From there, we drove south of town, not as far as Las Flores mine, but past the bay. The scenery and cardon forests are spectacular. Here come the pictures:













Does anyone know the story on this? It says Carole Ann Bispo 10-16-45—3-16-91.










What does “klee-mahks” mean? Oh, wait. Maybe that’s English. Maybe it means it’s done...




We came back for some lunch and a nap, and in the late afternoon, headed out with Dale and Carleen.














Mark accidentally caught his first yellowtail.



Why, accidentally, you ask? Well, we aren’t fisherpeople, in fact, we don’t even eat fish. Dale had a couple of rods out and they both got hits at once, so he asked Mark to reel one in... Ta da! Mark’s first yellowtail! We let them keep the fish, though.









We didn’t find the whale sharks, but we had fun, and the bay was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

That night we had dinner with Dale and Carleen, a few drinks, then everyone turned in early, as we were all leaving the next morning. We had a great time, and it is so wonderful to make new friends!

One last note for the night... We turned on the TV, and it just started changing channels on its own. We were confused, until I walked outside, and could see someone in the restaurant watching TV and changing the channels. Aha! Mystery solved...

Coming soon, the scorpion, San Borja, and Bahia Asuncion...

Days 5-6, July 14-15--San Borja and Bahia Asuncion
(part 1 of this section)

We were packing up to leave and I was carrying stuff out to the car. I heard Mark say from the room, “Honey, come here. You have to see this...” He had picked up his bag and this is what he saw:




Oh. Well. Hmm. I went into the office and told Victoria, “Con permiso, hay un escorpión en el quarto.” She looked at me blankly for a second, as if wondering if I knew what I was saying in Spanish. She decided I did, and cried, “Un escorpión! En el quarto!” and jumped up and ran off. I went back to the room to keep an eye on the scorpion and make sure that it didn’t crawl into any of our stuff (I don’t know what I would have done, move the stuff, I guess). A minute later, a tiny, tiny old woman came in, looked at the scorpion with her hands on her hips, and said, “Hmph!” She took an empty water bottle out of the trash and, CRUNCH, CRUNCH! The scorpion was dead. Now I know what to do when you find a scorpion in your hotel room—you get a tiny old woman to kill it with a water bottle! Anyway, she scooped it up with a piece of cardboard and set it on a ledge outside the room. I don’t know why...I guess to warn other scorpions not to come here!

Said our good-byes and headed out, stopping at the Museum before leaving town. We had tried to go to there the day before, but it was “cerrado lunes.” This was not the last time those words would vex us (see “Newmads” in La Paz thread for another).








It’s a great little museum, very informative and interesting. We talked with Carolina, the curator, a very informative and interesting person. We talked to her about going the San Borja route out, and asked about Montevideo. She agreed with other advice that we had gotten, that we would be hard pressed to make it to Bahia Asuncion before dark if we stopped there, as well as the mission. She said that for the best use of our time and “heat energy,” we should see Cueva del Raton after our time in Asuncion. She drew us an excellent map and told us who to talk to when we got to the village. “How’s the road?” we asked. She craned her neck to look out the window at our car. “You should be fine,” she answered. As we drove away, Mark and I discussed how people keep looking at the car before they tell you how the road is. We laughed... But we still didn’t know what it meant...

We got gas leaving town (I think this is the only self-service Pemex in all of Baja), and hit the road once again. The drive to the turn-off for San Borja is short and easy, and the turn-off is well-marked. At first, the dirt road to the mission is pretty good, only minorly washboarded, and not too many rocks. That changes, though. They had a pretty good rain a few weeks before we came, which meant that the flora was lush, and green, and many things were in bloom. But it also meant that there were a lot of places in the road that maybe should have had some dirt holding the rocks together. And there wasn’t any.

We took a lot of pictures on the drive. Wow, it sure was gorgeous (when I could take my eyes away from the road for a second or two to look!) We stopped several times to look and take pictures.









The road is still pretty good, here...










The road is getting worse...








Seriously?!? That’s the road???






We arrived at the mission, and talked to Jenaro (I think he is José’s son). His family is of the indigenous Cochimí Indians and they have been here for generations. He told us that he used to give tours inside the mission, but the padres do not allow him inside any more. He and his family still do the maintenance on the church and give tours of the other buildings in the area. We gave him some money to help continue the good work.

Front of the mission:








Maria showed us around inside. She does not speak English, but she was very patient with my limited Spanish, and we managed to communicate fairly well.

Inside, from an upstairs area...




The original mission building, being restored (or at least stabilized to prevent further erosion)




The obligatory stairwell picture




When we came out, we talked to Jenaro some more. We didn’t have time to see the rest of the area, so he wrote his email address in the dirt on the car window and had us take a picture of it for the next time we came. I don’t think he would mind if we shared it:




If you are going to be in the area, email him and he will arrange a great tour for you! It’s a little hard to read, but it says JENARO182008 (at) hotmail (dot) com. I know it only says “hot” on the window, but he said “hotmail” as he was writing it.

Why, you ask, didn’t we have time to see the rest of the area? Well, when we were planning the drive, we figured that San Borja is about 23 miles off the highway, so even on a crappy dirt road, that should be about an hour, right? Oh, no, no, no. It took us almost 2 ½ hours to get there. But the guide books say that the road out to Rosarito and Hwy. 1 is in much better condition, so that should be faster. We asked Jenaro. “No,” he answered. “Puedeser poquito major?” I asked, hopefully. “Puedeser...” he answered skeptically. You probably already figured it out. It was not better.

It was still a pretty drive, though.




You pass through a few ranches...




Which can generate additional obstacles...








We finally got back to the main highway, and we were STARVING, as the whole adventure had taken a lot longer than we planned. There didn’t seem to be anything in Rosarito, so we agreed to stop in the next town that looked like it had food. We were in luck!!!




We had read that Carmelita had, sadly, passed away, and also that the food had gone downhill since, but our experience was great! They were serving tamales de pollo and burritos de machaca, and we ordered one of each (each). They were fabulous! I’m a big tamale fan, and these might well be the best I have ever eaten. Mark was bowled over by the machaca burritos. He kept saying, “How did I not know about this stuff?” interspersed with, “Can I have another?”


...that's going to have to do it for now on this part. More later!


(edited for spelling)

[Edited on 8-4-2009 by LisaR.]

What?? i barely know who this caracter DENNIS is, he seems to be much more interested in me than i am about him.

Days 5-6, July 14-15—San Borja and Bahia Asuncion
...continued...

So, south we go toward Guerrero Negro. As we neared the agricultural inspection, I remembered that I had forgotten to throw out half an avocado from the ice chest, so I made Mark reach back and get it out so we would be “clean.” We pulled up to the guy, and he asked if we had any fruits or vegetables, as expected. “Solo un medio de aguacate,” I told him, holding it out the window for him. He put his hand up like a stop sign and said, “No, you keep that.” Sheesh! I was trying to be helpful and he didn’t want my avocado half!

He told us that the fee was 30 pesos, which didn’t sound right—I thought it was supposed to be 20. Now, I’m always happy to question authority for a principle, but for less than a dollar? No. But then he gave me change for 20 pesos, so ??? They sprayed our tires, and off we went, still in possession of the avocado.

We stopped in Guerrero Negro for gas, money, and the grocery store. Everything went smoothly, except...I ran a stop sign. No one was coming, but I still felt terrible. I’m a good, law-abiding citizen! Later I learned that I was just driving like a good Southern Baja Californiana. By the time we came north through GN a week and a half later, I was so over that silly stopping thing. You slow down, you look, and if no one is coming, why would you come to a complete stop? In fact, if you come to a complete stop with a police car behind you, they honk at you!

We turned off at Vizcaino for Bahia Asuncion. Getting through Vizcaino is sort-of a drag. There’s a lot of construction and it’s very, very dusty. The scenery is a little stark. As Shari told us her nephew would say, “Wow, there sure is a whole lotta nothin’ out there.”




Our first sight of the lagoon:




This sign says so much—




No kidding, it isn’t a high speed road. There are places that you think you can zip along, then suddenly there are potholes that would swallow a semi. One spot had a pile of dirt in the middle of the road with a hazard sign on it. Was the dirt hazardous? No, the sign was, though. Another place, the sand had blown over the road to almost completely cover it.

It was an interesting drive, though. We saw a coyote, although we didn’t get a picture. And this—any guesses?




Yup, salt. Cool, huh?




Here’s another guessing game, although this time I don’t have an answer. If anyone knows what this is, I’d love to know!




Once we turned off this highway to the turn-off to Bahia Asuncion, the road got much, much, much better for quite a ways. The road is in the process of being paved all the way out to Asuncion, and it’s smooth and new and beautiful, until suddenly it’s gone. If you were going 90mph, and not paying attention, there is a pile of dirt at the end of the pavement that would launch you into the air like Evil Knievel. We may have been going 90, but we were paying just enough attention to avoid this.

You leave the pavement, and the fun and games are over. I had already learned a lot about dirt roads that day, but here was a new kind—heavily, heavily washboarded alternating with deep sand. Whew! Steep learning curve. But I learned. I’ve heard about the 4-40 rule for washboards (4mph, or 40mph), but 4 didn’t work. I was afraid that it would shake the rearview mirror right off. So it was 40—holding our breath as we slid through the sand around corners and not able to see over the hills... “Beer me!” I kept telling Mark. We were good about not drinking until we were at our final destination for the night, but this became our catch-phrase for “My, this is some stressful driving!”

So finally we got to Shari and Juan’s at about 7:00 that evening. Shari put cold Tecates in our hands almost as soon as we got there. We liked her immediately. We chatted with Shari and Kevin (another Nomad who lives nearby) for a bit, then went find somewhere to eat before everything closed.

We had a great dinner at Tres Hermanas (maybe it was “Hermanos,” but there were three women there, and they looked like sisters...). The cute thing was, I told them that Mark didn’t speak Spanish (and mine isn’t great), but when I whispered to him how to say something or ask for something, they were so, so pleased for him, and clapped, and everything.

We stayed at the Sunset Casita, and we found it to be very cute and comfortable. It has everything you need to feel at home, complete with a welcome note from Shari explaining how everything works. Here is our little casita:




Shari had told us that every rental comes with a dog, and ours was Tuto. Tuto’s actual mailing address is next door, but he knows full well that he belongs with the Sunset Casita. We kept expecting Tuto, and Mark even called for him, but he didn’t show. Around midnight, we were out on the porch listening to the waves, and suddenly, there was Tuto, standing right in front of us, as if to say, “Sorry, sorry I’m late! I was sleeping and didn’t know you were here! You could pet and/or feed me now, though.” And so we had a dog. Here is Tuto on the porch with Mark:




The next morning, Shari made waffles for us, and then gave us a tour around town.

Mark and Shari in front of Shari and Juan’s house. What a great view they have!




The blowhole




Pictures from the Asuncion cemetery



What a face! How would you like to have her standing over you for eternity?



The dead have a great view from here...







Kids and their new toys






Later we took a drive to San Roque. Here are some pictures from there.



The “haunted” church of San Roque





Inside the church, there is a strange hanging cross.









Caracol shells





I promised Shari I would tell this story: After San Roque, we were going to try to be back at our casita before 4:00, so she could pick us up and take us to bajaboy’s for a gathering. It was 3ish, so we figured we would have time to stop somewhere for a taco, first. We went to Ramona’s, and ordered dos tacos de res for Mark y uno por me. “Arroz?” asked Ramona. I don’t think she had any made. “No, gracias. Solo tacos, por favor.” I was pretty sure we were understanding each other.

We heard some clanging around in the kitchen, then she came out to tell us that she only had a little beef, but would we like some abalone? Well, sure! So, we heard more clanging, then BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Wow, she’s really pounding that abalone, we thought. More clanging, she must be done. Nope. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Almost an hour after we walked in, out comes a great big plate of beef for Mark and abalone for me, complete with salad, rice, beans, tortillas, everything. I had never had abalone before and, ohhh...it was goooooood! (I did share it with Mark, reluctantly)

Ramona came out of the kitchen to our table, and points at the rice. “Arroz,” she said, smiling and nodding. “Si, arroz. Gracias,” I answered. “Arroz,” she said again, pointing, smiling, and nodding. “Um, si, arroz,” I replied, taking a bite. “Es muy bueno, gracias.” She gave a satisfied nod, and returned to the kitchen.

Needless to say, we did not make it back in time to go to bajaboy’s, but we did get abalone. Later, Shari, Juan, and Kevin came over for drinks and I told them the story. Turns out, we were very, very lucky to get abalone—almost no one does. Even though abalone fishing is a major industry in Bahia Asuncion, the season is short, and almost every last bit gets shipped overseas, where it commands the big bucks. “I hope she pounded it well, so it was tender,” said Kevin. Oh, yes, she did.

I told Shari the thing about the rice. “I think that’s my fault,” she said. “Every time I go there, I ask for rice. ‘Gringos like rice,’ I keep telling her.”

All too soon, the evening was over, and in the morning we would be heading out. We definitely will try to make it back out to Bahia Asuncion soon, and hopefully for longer. Shari is a great person. She is warm, funny, and authentic, and was a wonderful hostess. We enjoyed hanging out with Kevin, as well. He and Mark really hit it off when they discovered that they had played in bands in many of the same clubs in Anchorage, Alaska! We did not get to talk with Juan as much, but he also seems like a really, really nice person, and we enjoyed the time we did spend with him. All in all, great people, and a great time!


Coming soon, Cueva del Raton and Mulegé...

Day 7, July 16—Cueva del Raton and Mulegé

We packed up the car and reluctantly said goodbye to Tuto and our little Sunset Casita. Shari made machaca and eggs for breakfast for us, and we had a little slideshow of the pictures we had taken so far.

We got on the road again, and this time, now that I was an “expert” at driving on washboards and sand, we made much, much better time out to the main highway. I had to keep repeating to myself, “It’s worse if you slow down, it’s worse if you slow down.”

We stopped for gas in Vizcaino, and a kid (maybe 10 or 11 years old) washed our windows. I tipped him, and then since the gas pumping wasn’t done, he folded his arms on the rolled down window. “So,” he asked, “where are you from? Is that your husband? Do you like driving? Do you like the ocean? Do you like swimming? Where are you going?” (This was all in Spanish. My Spanish was good enough to have the conversation, but it is not good enough to type it up. I can communicate, but I do a lot of muddling through.) What a personality this kid had! We gave him a bouncy ball and a whistle from our “box-o-toys,” and his friend came up and we gave him one, too. We stopped at the baños and the store at the Pemex before leaving, and when we came out the boys were running all over the parking lot, bouncing their balls and blowing the whistles: Tweeeet! Tweeeet! Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet-tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet! Oh no, their parents are going to hate us for this! “Lo siento!” we yelled out the window as we sped away.

The turn-off for Cueva del Raton and San Francisco de la Sierra is well-marked, and the road is newly paved for several miles. This unrealistically raised our hopes. The road changes to a relatively good dirt road. Our hopes were still up. And then you start heading up (and up, and up, and up) the mountain. After the first seriously steep, rocky, narrow switchback, I stopped and said, “We can’t do this. We won’t make it.” We sat for a minute, then decided to go for it. We would go as far as we could, and if we really couldn’t make it, we would turn around and go back. Later in the trip we met Phil C., a long-time Nomad, and he told us that most people hit that first switchback, and turn around. But we went for it!

***Let me stop and say right now, the guide books and expert advice are right: A 4-wd is not strictly necessary, but DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS IN A REGULAR CAR. We were driving a Hyundai Tucson, which is fairly wimpy as far as SUVs go, but it is at least high-clearance. Obviously, since we are here to tell the tale, it was good enough. A 4-wd would have been better.

I won’t lie; it was a hairy, scary drive. I held out my hand and told Mark, “Beer me!” so many times, it stopped being funny. I kept saying it, anyway.

We were soon glad that we had decided to keep going, because as you get higher and higher in the mountains, the views are really, really incredible. You feel like you are at the top of the world, looking down into canyons that are thousands of feet deep. Here are some pictures:





Yes, that is, in fact, our road you can see across the canyon. Did I mention that it is an extremely twisty, curvy drive?








As you head up, up, up, you start to pass goat ranches. “Hola, chivos!” I yelled out the window every time we passed goats. It, too, quickly got old. I didn’t let that stop me.




Mark, fortunately, has a sense of humor, and on the way down, he yelled, “Hello, Cheetos!” out the window at all the same goats we had passed on the way up.

We passed the gate for the cave painting site, and continued on to the village of San Francisco de la Sierra. We parked and asked about a guide. We followed a man (Francisco Arce, he was to be our guide), to a house where Enrique Arce (the local INAH official) unlocked a huge desk and pulled out a giant book for us to write our information and sign our names in. He then filled out a stack of papers, charged us (I want to say it was about 300 pesos for the both of us, but I forget. It included the cost for the guide and charge for bringing a camera), and gave us a receipt. He then sent a kid to run off and get the key for the gate to the cave painting site. I wish we had taken pictures in the village, but we didn’t.

When the kid came back with the key, we walked back to the car with Francisco and did some frantic re-shuffling of our stuff so we would have a seat for him. I was afraid, for a minute, that he would have to carry some of our luggage on his lap, but we got everything crammed back in.

When we got back down to the Cueva del Raton site, the boy who had run to get the key was there. I don’t know how he got there so fast! We got out of the car, and I offered Francisco a cold water, but no, he was taken care of, he told us, patting his canteen. “Hay cerveza fria, tambien,” I told him. “Oh, cerveza! Si, gracias!” Then Francisco unlocked the gate, and strode up the hill, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette, while Mark and I struggled behind, wheezing and gasping for breath. There is nothing like a little altitude to show you just how out of shape you are!

Here are a few pictures of the paintings:








A lizard with his lunch—(you can’t really see it, but he has a dragonfly in his mouth)




When we left, I felt bad because there wasn’t room for the kid in the car to drive him back up to the village. “It’s fine, he can walk,” Francisco told us. But the kid looked sad. We dropped Francisco off, and gave him a tip and another beer. He seemed very happy, particularly about the beer! On the way back down, we saw the kid again and stopped to let him pick a couple of toys out of the box. He didn’t look sad anymore!

On the road back down, we got even more amazing views than the way up—I think both because of the angle, and because we weren’t as freaked out about the road. We already knew it probably wouldn’t kill us. Here are some views from the way down:










For perspective, those are cardons, up to 60 feet tall, you see on the canyon floor thousands of feet below. It was absolutely dizzying looking down.




Mark took over the driving and we headed to Mulegé from there, with a very, very brief stop in Santa Rosalia. We had planned to stop for longer, but it was getting late, we were tired, hungry, hot, grouchy, and very much ready for an actual beer (not just a metaphorical one). This was the start of our only bad night for the entire trip.

We turned off the highway into Santa Rosalia, and couldn’t get our bearings. I was mad at Mark because he was going to fast for me to figure out what was going on from the maps and guidebooks, and he was mad at me because I had been such an awful backseat driver ever since we hit the mountains south of San Ignacio. I mean, I’m kind of a control freak, anyway (a teacher and a control freak? Imagine that!), but since the drive up the mountains had taken so much concentration, I just couldn’t let go. I knew I was driving him nuts, but I couldn’t stop.

Anyway, we eventually found our way to the famous Gustav Eiffel iron church, Iglesia Santa Barbara, pulled into a parking spot right in front of it, and took a minute to argue. Then we drove away. We didn’t even get out to take a picture.

We pulled into Mulegé and had no trouble finding Hotel Vieja Hacienda, where we had planned to stay, although we did have to drive around the block a few times to find parking. They had a room available, it had air-conditioning, there was a pool, it had off-street parking, and it was 395 pesos (less than $30 at the current exchange rate). Sounds good, right? Except that it was swelteringly, swelteringly hot in town, the pool had about a thousand kids in it, the air-conditioner sounded like a diesel truck badly in need of a tune-up, and the room wasn’t well insulated (the dried-up duct tape over the hole in the door flapped in the breeze of the AC) so it never really cooled down. Plus, we were way to far down that grouchy road for even beer to help us.

Let me say this about the Hacienda, though. Even though our experience that night wasn’t good, it wouldn’t be fair to blame the hotel. It is not luxury, but it really is charming. The pool looks nice, the rooms were clean, the courtyard is pretty, it is right across from the town square, and the man who has run it for the past 40 years (I think his name was Fernando?) is very, very sweet. I would definitely try staying there again in a different season—or maybe even just in a different mood.

The Hotel Vieja Hacienda is a lovely, historic hotel in a lovely, historic town, and unfortunately, this is the only picture we took there:




We ate dinner at Las Casitas. It is a beautiful restaurant with wonderful food. We ate on the picturesque garden patio with sweat rolling down our faces, wishing we were dead. Then we returned to the hotel room to listen to the air conditioner and watch three channels of a constant loop of condom commercials on TV.

Mark drank almost an entire bottle of tequila, to make sure that he would be able to sleep. That worked out great...for him. Not so great for me, as his snoring nearly drowned out the air conditioner. I almost fell asleep anyway, after taking several Benadryl, until a honking car full of hollering people parked under our window. By morning, I had formulated a new plan.


....stay tuned....

You are too too much girl! Keep it coming it is delightful!

MarkR
Too funny...that pic and the whole explanation behind it gave me a good laugh this morning. Hopefully it was good tequila and you didn't spend the night with the "throne" .
pacside

I'm glad everyone is enjoying our report so far! I'm going to have to leave you all hanging, though, as Mark and I are going out of town for the weekend. I meant to get more posted today, but I had to attend a funeral this afternoon (a co-worker), and I just didn't get to it.

And to acuity, and others who have been looking forward to Todos Santos pictures, I'm sorry that our trip report title is a bit misleading. We did go as far south as TS, but we were only there for an afternoon, and did not take many pictures. I can promise lots of pictures of Bahia Concepcion and La Paz, though!

Thank you all for hanging in there while this report trickles out!

And Mark...about the tequila? Nice try.

Wow...love the canyon views and am so glad you got up there after all the deliberations. I agree on the air conditioned rooms at some places...you cant sleep with those things on...without tequila of course...which would lead me to hovering over the throne...thanks for your input Mark!!! tuto says hey!

DK- Good accomodations in Mulege is an oxymarooon.

Jesse- Stop using dial-up.

I see. Perhaps you can start it and Lisa can go over it with the dreaded red pen Thanks for the update!

So, um, two and a half years later...

http://forums.bajanomad.com/viewthread.php?tid=58041&pag...

Sorry for the delay