Calamajue, Pto. Chale, Pto. Gato

All the recent talk about the road to Tembibichi inspired us to have a ‘look-see’.

In the mid 70’s I made several solo rowing trips (16’ Swampscott Dory) along that coast. On one of them I was winded in on the exposed beach at San Carlos (appx 2.5 miles N of Pto. Gato). There I met Solomon de la Toba whose ranch was just in from the beach. Although he had a panga (eski boat I think) with a small outboard, his dug out sailing canoa was still on the beach (high up). While waiting for calmer seas I helped him fix his gasoline pump engine, saw some of the ranch operation, hiked to Pto. Gato/ Tembibichi and had a very interesting time of it.

Trip duration: February 4th through the 24th,2017

Departure point: Green Valley, CA (about 15 miles southwest of Palmdale)

Vehicle: 1992 Ford F250 Diesel Extra Cab 4x4 (aka, ‘Toothache’)

Crew: The two of us and our dog Max.

Border crossing: Mexicali East

We discovered a great spot to camp that put us within an hour of the border: Salton Sea State Recreation Area…Corbina Campgroud. It appeared that there is no charge to camp there. It’s a nice spot one minute off the road with bathrooms and even a shower. Quiet but for the trains (oh this railroad earth!)

The plan was to cross at the old port of entry but signs warned of construction delays so we went to the east port instead. There was no wait to cross; at the first inspection area a pleasant inspector took a glance in the back of the camper and said, “have a nice trip”. Then, just like at Tijuana; where do you park for immigration? I asked the inspector; he points down the road without much explanation.



In a very short distance comes ‘secondary’. One never wants to voluntarily pull into such a place but nor did I want to end up shuttled onto some viaducto and have a hard time getting back. It looked very deserted, so, I took a deep breath and pulled in; parking all the way down near the guard shack. I asked the guard if it would be OK to park while we went to Immigration. He said OK but seemed not quite sure it really was. That made two of us. As we started walking a car towing a travel trailer stopped on the street by the shack and apparently got permission to pull into the narrow parking area west of secondary. It looked awkward.

I had purchased and printed out our tourist cards online via this link provided by danaeb: https://www.inm.gob.mx/fmme/publico/en/solicitud.html . Handed the forms to the immigration lady thinking I did pretty well…until she frowned. This is too small she said, there’s not enough room for my stamp. Where is your receipt? Oh, ah, I didn’t print that out. She looked up at me, “you didn’t print that out”, her eyes getting wide as she spoke (this is all in Spanish of course). Errr, well, I have an image of it on my laptop in the truck. Un momento she said, going into another office.

She came back with a small stack of tourist forms. Look at these she said, plopping them on the counter. Coffee stains, incorrect dates, names spelled wrong, printed way too small, bad passport numbers…it was all right there. We can make a new form for no charge if people have their receipt. The best thing is to just fill out the form and pay here. But look I said, it wasn’t my idea to put all that up on the internet for people to use…that was your government’s idea. Well, I guess it’s OK she said, but I still think it’s easier here.

She managed to get the stamp on the small forms after all and reminded me to print the receipt next time. She was very pleasant the whole time and quite helpful really. I asked her about the parking… down at the corner on the right side around the bend, you will see cars in there.

After somehow ending up on the road to San Luis we recovered and had an uneventful cruise into San Felipe North Beach. I did not do my home work on a good place for a simple overnight camp (I know, Shell Beach!) so we took a chance on, ‘Play Grande’.



1.5 miles down the wash board road we come to orange cones at the entrance to a small compound of trailers with a care takers camper. We see nothing resembling a campground. After a few minutes of dog barking, Gorge comes out to greet us and move the cones. Sure he says, you can camp anywhere you please as he swings his arm around what amounts to a large parking area for the trailers… most of the time there is no one here…like now he exclaimed.

How about something on the beach I ask. That too he says. And it was just what we were looking for, a quiet spot to have dinner, walk on the beach and spend the night listening to the waves. It even had moderately clean unlighted bathrooms…all this for $10.



Here’s the address for this little hidden jewel:
31° 10’ 11.36” N 114° 53’ 26.23” W



Not so early in the morning we take on a bit more fuel in San Felipe and roll south. It doesn’t seem like much has change on the first 50 or 60 miles of road since last year. I think someone in the highway department should make a basic decision: is this supposed to be a paved road or not?

Lunch time happened at Huerfanito’s. We took the turn marked, ‘Campo Tano’ drove a little way and made breakfast/lunch. After the lunch we went out to the camp and had the pleasure of meeting Don Tano. He made us feel very welcome…explaining that we could camp anywhere…an American couple had recently camped on the beach to the south for a month he said.

Things were buzzing in the camp which seemed very, “tribal” to me. Don Tano has created a subdivision that stretches from essentially the highway to the sea. All the papers are in order he said. They were busy building the requisite amenities…bathrooms/showers, restaurant/bar, observation deck, and more. He told me that his day job was painting lines on the new highway and I guess he gets some fishing in as well. The fishing was as good as he’s ever seen it he said. He’s one busy guy at 70 something.

Rancho Grande refreshed our ice supply and the gas station was open across the highway. So far and for the rest of the trip the peso was trading between18.5-20.5. Diesel ran from17.2-17.68/liter. I think it was 19.5 there. On the dirt section a tandem tractor trailer rig with very long trailers had managed to jack knife every which way blocking the road. Traffic was diverted up to the new road bed for a short distance. Nice while it lasted.

Planning to go to highway 1 via the Calamajue Wash we turned off before Coco’s Corner, drove about 5 miles and made camp. Some trip we’ll just spend the whole time listening to the silence and soaking in the beauty of the desert in that area. Man is it nice!



Next morning after some local hiking we made our way up to the beginning of the narrow part. Some day we will check out the mission site there. We did notice what appeared to be large middens in that area. I guess when that day comes we will also have been out to the port of Calamajue. Sigh, so many places to see, so little time.



The trip through the narrows was much gentler than the last time (7 or 8 years ago). I guess some of the recent hurricanes have leveled things out.






As we were exiting the narrows there was a broken off sign laying in the wash. In Spanish, it said something like, ‘Federal property, entry without permission prohibited’. This was an unusually nice sign, about 48” wide by 36” tall made of white fluted twin wall ¼” plastic sheet with machine cut (or a very steady hand) red lettering.

It wasn’t very old judging by the shininess and relative lack of off road decals/bumper stickers. I would have taken a picture but it was so eerie seeing a sign like that out there that I had a moment of paranoia during which I reasoned: if there is a picture of this sign on my camera, the plausibility of denial will be nil.

You might ask, “which way was it facing”? That was my thought at first, then I realized…what in the heck difference would it make...permission from who, where, when, why? Maybe one of you reader can shed some light on this unsettling discovery.

Out of the wash up on the high ground we discovered the road was in a state of extreme, ‘hummocieness’. Even at 5 mph the induced roll was, at times, almost enough to make me seasick. Spent time along there wondering what kind of shocks (without going crazy) might knock some of that out. I know, the boat…it is way up there but realize it only weighs 95 lbs.

Once we hit highway 1 and aired up we had a fantasy of making it to Ojo de Liebre that night. A short lived one:

[looks like there might be a limit of 8 attachments so more to follow later]

Quote: Originally posted by y2kbaja

How was Calamajue? Passable and fun or deep water and whooped out not fun? We might go that way in a couple of weeks.

Quote: Originally posted by Bajazly

Quote: Originally posted by y2kbaja   How was Calamajue? Passable and fun or deep water and whooped out not fun? We might go that way in a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks ago it was just water and sand, nothing required 4x4 and all smooth thru the canyon. Once up on the mesa there are some whoops here and there but towards Coco's it gets smooth again. There may be a very little route finding in the narrows but if you hit something that is not just road, you could either wheel thru it or back up a few hundred feet and take the alternate route. You can't get lost as you are in the narrows.

Continued...Pto. Chale

Once we hit highway 1 and aired up we had a fantasy of making it to Ojo de Liebre that night. A short lived one:



When we are finally allowed to get around that piece of equipment it’s apparent we won’t be camping at Ojo de Liebre. Our alternate camp is one we’ve used before in the hills east of Rosarito. We go about 4 or 5 miles off the highway and use the, ‘road off a road’ method to arrive at our camp.

The next morning we have breakfast and a shower at Mario’s restaurant (just past the Eagle Monument). Nice clean showers with plenty of hot water were about $3.50. Good sliced fruit dish, just average huevos rancheros, good internet connection and attentive service. On the return trip we stopped for a late lunch and don’t think we would do that again. Showers/internet and maybe breakfast will be enough thank you Mario.

Have yet to see any ships loading ore at the new pier in Santa Rosalia but the mine parking lot is full of cars and the place is humming. Same poor excuse for a road as you come into town.

We spent the night in Loreto with friends, did some shopping in the morning then headed for Pto. Chale.



For over 16 years most these winter trips have included a week or so camping on Isla Cresciente.



We load up the boat and row over.





All these years we’ve left the truck with the same family.



Most of the kids in this picture now have their own children! This year we didn’t visit the Isla but wanted to see everyone and drop off the photos from last year.

---next---Pto. Gato

Quote: Originally posted by degoma

I don't think you would have much trouble. It's more a ground clearance issue than tires. Within a day or so I'll finish up this post with more road details. Bruce

Puerto Gato

Back to Cd. Constitución for some hot showers and a good night’s sleep at Palapa 206 (just outside of town at km 206) where there’s plenty of RV parking, good internet and reasonable priced nice rooms.

Armed with maps .kmz files and Ozi Explorer (loaded with lots of Google Earth screen shots) we leave highway 1 at 10:00: destination Tembibichi. All of this was a nice exercise which no doubt will be helpful for some lesser explored places (if there are any left) but it certainly wasn’t necessary for this run. One block south of the Ley super market turn left and drive about 60 miles.

If you were not GPS equipped, about the only confusion might be at the settlement of ‘Ley Federal de Aguas Numero Cinco’. You need to go thru/around this little town and then be on essentially the same heading as you were before…just maybe 10 degrees east (a tad more sun in your face).

I guess we are just slow…didn’t get to the beach in front of the village until 18:00 although there was a 45 minute lunch break to marvel at the stone corral.



The descent from on high down to the arroyo that leads to Tembibichi is only 1.3 miles (2.2% of the trip) but it sure leaves a big impression! A wheel base any longer than mine (159”) would start to be a problem in the tight turns. Some of these turns appear dangerously eroded. If you are in a short wheel base vehicle you might not even notice this since you can stay very comfortably close to the uphill side. At one turn I did a small back-up to try and keep that left rear further from the edge. Other than that, and some fairly big drop-offs where concrete paving ended there was no problem.

We camped directly in front of the village then the next morning drove app. 3.5 miles to Puerto Gato and made camp for 9 days.



The breakfast patio.








And what a camp it was!

(continued mas tarde)

[Edited on 3-3-2017 by degoma]

Wow! Very nice. You guys know how to live. Years ago we flew down to La Paz for the 1000 finish on Screaming Airlines and I took lots of aerial photos and saw the roads and checked the maps and looked again at the photos of the roads going down the side and wondered about the pucker factor on the decent.

Puerto Gato Continued

Looking at the photos of our camp you could get the impression that we were completely alone on that beach. And it’s true; we had no land based visitors during the 9 days with the exception of Francisco. Francisco, or Pancho as he’s known is the grandson of Solomon de la Toba; the rancher I met so many years ago. He lives on the same ranch a few miles north at San Carlos.



We had coffee a few mornings and talked about the old days when to get anything meant a long boat ride (or an even longer mule ride) to Loreto or sometimes La Paz. Now, with the road, they drive to town once a month for supplies.

Visitors from the sea however were another story. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, I knew that Pto. Gato was a popular anchorage. Just the same, while planning the trip and driving in it never occurred to me that we would end up in a crowed spot.



A sailboat arrived around noon on our first day and by sundown there were 3 anchored…in front of our camp. We were not, “alone” again until the last few days when threat of a Norte caused everyone to seek a safer spot.

It’s a great place if you are into boat watching…and I certainly am a boat enthusiast. We soon adjusted to a rhythm of sorts; around 10:00 anchor chains rattle and some boats leave; a while later shore parties arrive for hiking and beach combing and then around 14:00 anchor chains rattle as new arrivals stake out their spots.

Boaters are friendly folks and we had some interesting conversations with a number of them. There was one woman however, who marched up to our camp camera in hand and complained that she could not get a good picture of the red rocks because of where we were camped. Really I said… we are having a similar problem getting a good picture of the bay!

One afternoon when there were about 5 sailboats in the bay, the luxury motor yacht, ‘Japimana’, all 108 feet of her, with multiple radars spinning slid silently into the bay followed by some serious anchor chain rattling. An aircraft carrier entering the bay would have a similar affect.

This baby can move up to 8, yes 8 guests, 525 nautical miles at a cruising speed of 24 kts before her 4,800 horses need a little something to drink (4,400 gallons of diesel). If there were 8 guests on board only two chose to come ashore.

We were hiking down the beach as their launch reached the beach. A young Asiatic couple walked toward the desert. The Zodiac driver was securing the launch and did not look up as we passed. He could double for The Incredible Hulk so I gathered he had other duties as well.

The ‘Hulk’ shadowed the couple at a discrete distance as they made their way toward the red rocks. At this point the latent ‘paparazzi’ in me dictated that I sit down so as to better stabilize my binoculars. They moved around the rocks like people not accustomed to that sort of activity.

When they came down onto the beach again it was at the back of our boat. They stopped and stood right there, gazing at our camp, then the fellow reached down, and I’m not making this up, and stroked the propeller of my two horse power Honda outboard. Was he heir to a Honda fortune?



That evening, without even requesting it, we had a demonstration of what the sound system on a boat of that sort is capable of. Yea, let’s disco! There was a light show as well. All around the boat at the water line strobe like lights were flashing making the boat look even more like the alien thing it was. Gay groaned and said, “Are they going to do this every night?” No, they won’t be here in the morning as they probably have to be in Pto. Vallarta tomorrow I replied. Sure enough, around 01:00 the clanking of heavy anchor chain wakes us up as the Japimana prepares to get underway.

I’m dreaming; anchor chain is rattling and a voice is saying, they’re back, the Japimana is back. I sit up, it’s 06:30, Gay points to the outer bay; see, they’re back. It’s big alright but it’s not the Japi. I grab the bino’s…oh, I see….it’s a cruise ship! On the upper deck a yoga class is underway.



Around 07:30 they raise the anchor and move in to a new spot closer to shore. Half hour later a large rubber boat comes into shore about 500’ from us. Four or five people who look like, ‘staff’ jump out and start walking around up on the beach; some kind of a meeting I speculate. Next thing you know they are on their way back to the mother ship. Then,15 minutes later back, this time with only three people. As two people start unloading big ice chests, chairs, shades and who knows what else, the third person walks toward our camp.

Jeremy came over to let us know what was going on and, incredibly, make sure we were OK with it. We are going to bring some people ashore for hiking and beach combing then lunch on the beach. Are we too close to your camp? I told him it looked like a reasonable distance and we were fine with it. Are you sure he asked….we can move it further down the beach or even over to one of the other beaches; you were here first. I told him we were very impressed with the consideration they were showing us and that it was not a problem.

What are you bringing anyway, 20 or 30 people I asked? He looked at me, then at Gay and said, ah, no… closer to 70. Thank you for your understanding; if there is anything that you need; beer, wine, ice, meat or vegetables, just come out to the ship and we’ll fix you right up.

The rubber boat went back to the ship leaving a pile of stuff on the beach. As we were trying to imagine what it would be like with 70 people all attempting to take good pictures of the red rocks, the rubber boat set off from the mother ship again. Brace yourself I thought, here comes the first assault. Surprisingly there were only two and they proceeded to re-load all that stuff then headed for a beach across the bay. What was that all about us wondered? Is the supply offer still good? Gay reminded me of one thing we could use.

As we went out for our morning row I swung us by the huge swim/launch platform at the stern. As several crewman stood by, I backed the dory close to the platform; “Alright, just give us your WiFi code and nobody get’s hurt!”. We all had a laugh and I learned they only have a local area network…no WiFi. Guess they don’t call it ‘The Uncruise’ for nothing.
https://www.uncruise.com/destinations/mexico-cruises

In the early afternoon, having recovered her shore parties, the ‘Uncruise” weighed anchor and motored off for adventure elsewhere. We were reflecting on how much more ‘natural’ sail boats look in a remote harbor when yet another motor yacht rounded the point. The Aft Pilothouse 68’ Nordhaven came in surprisingly close to shore and dropped a quiet anchor. It looks like a tug boat Gay said. Shhhhh, sound travels, don’t let the owner hear that!

Later that day we met the Swiss owner when he came ashore for the requisite photo of red rocks. He complimented us on our camp (guess he found a way to get a good picture) explaining that in a younger day he and his wife camped like us (In a Unimog of course).

The days literally sailed by, filled with rowing, hiking, fishing, snorkeling, reading, boat watching and just lying in the warm sand; in other words, a rather typical vacation (aside from the boat watching) in Baja California.



(to be continued…the road out….gulp)

[Edited on 3-5-2017 by degoma]

The grade out of Tembabichi

After the ‘Norte’ advisory had made its way through the maritime net, boats began leaving and there were no new arrivals. By evening Pto. Gato was ‘ours’ again. The Norte brought us a day of on and off light rain and then thunder storms with some pretty spunky squalls. Waves crashing on the beach a few feet from our back door and white caps everywhere. The rain subsided in the evening and the sea lay down fast.



We left beautiful Pto. Gato around 08:30; later than planned…as usual. The mud flats near the lagoon were pretty squirrely but it seemed to be just a surface slickness rather than a drop to your axles sort of thing. There are more large trees along the 8 mile drive up the wash (to the bottom of the hill) than I’ve seen anywhere else. It’s a pretty spectacular drive by its self.



When we reached the place where the road leaves the wash and climbs up to a level place with almost white dirt we stopped. Pancho had given us some tips about going up (or down) the road. This place we stopped can be seen from somewhere up higher (I didn’t get exactly where…maybe the one place where two vehicles can pass or the top) and people coming down will stop to look and listen so give a good shout or honk your horn…I did both. Also, your less likely to meet someone on the road if you go out in the morning at 8 or 9 and likewise don’t be descending in the morning. I told him how much I dreaded the thought of having to back up or down that road (given my long wheel base). He said the local people who use that road can do it backwards just as well as forwards. Right!

I think that if I were to come in here again I would have a pair of hand held radios (been thinking to get some anyway) then park at the top (or bottom) and both of us walk to the place where two vehicles can pass. I would leave Gay there and walk back to the truck and drive to there and repeat the process for the last part. It’s only 1.3 miles for the spotter and 2.6 for the driver. The views are breath taking. With real current road information and good backing up ability all this may not be necessary…it’s just my thought at the moment.

OK, let’s do this; I listen, then holler and honk and listen again…nothing, here we go. As we started the steep 1.2 mile climb I'm in compound low (slower than walking speed) and Gay is walking ahead rolling rocks that have fallen onto the road. Came to a spot where the road bed tilted slightly the wrong way...i.e. toward the edge! Neither of us noticed that it was very slick slippery clay-like thin mud...just didn't seem possible...everything looked so like rock like. Nor did the reverse tilt look like any big deal. So I was driving along at a half mile per hour when for no apparent reason the rear end just slid toward the edge which crumbled under the right rear tire. Gay waved her arms frantically and I stopped just in the nick of time.



I set the brake, shut down and had to push real hard on the driver door to overcome the tilt angle. With some difficulty I managed to walk all the way around the truck. This did not look good. #$@^% I opened the back but the tilt was such that the first thing I did was drop the uphill tire pressure way down. That didn’t help the tilt much but made me feel better. I got into the back and started extracting our cribbing. Naturally it’s stored way up by the cab.

Another couple of trips around to determine if I had to jack or could I somehow drive out of this. Must jack! But where? The logical place, outboard under the axel was not stable enough. I had to come forward along the frame until I thought I could trust the ground. That meant I would have to jack through the spring travel before I got any lift. Sure hope we have enough cribbing for that. This is exactly where one of those Australian air bag jacks would have been just the ticket.



In the picture above I’ve been jacking while Gay continued to fill around the big rocks we had placed.

We started building the roadway from below at the white arrows. Moving the largest rocks we could manage and filling between with small rocks then dirt with gravel size pebbles we gradually built the roadway back up (good we had a pick and 5 gallon buckets). But it wasn’t right; ideally we should have started on a level shelf hacked out of the hillside. As I looked around it was apparent something like this had happened here before; automotive glass and bits of metal bore testament to that. The roadway in that immediate area had been patched back up exactly like we were doing it.



Notice how far forward I had to come to find stable ground for jacking (white arrow). Also, see how crossways I am to the road? As the slow motion slide was going I was slow motion turning the wheels toward the hill. Of course that’s exactly what you don’t do in a slide. Go ahead, turn into this one!



It was a slow process. Gay took it all in stride and worked really hard. We’ve been in some tough spots before but never on the side of a hill like this. Yiiikes.



At this stage things are starting to look pretty good. I had been pounding rocks and dirt under the tire as it came up. Our efforts on the slope made it seem much less precarious. I felt another 2” or so would do it so reset the jack with more cribbing and started up. Not going to happen; the check valve failed on the jack. It had clouded up a bit and was starting to spit some rain drops. Although I had two other jacks I thought, man, if it really starts to rain we won’t be going anywhere until it dries out. That’s it, clear the cribbing and let’s get outahere.

I stayed in compound low, and for this ‘extraction’ attempt, engaged the rear locker (front locker off). Without giving it any gas (diesel) I ever so slowly let out the clutch. The truck just crawled right out of there. Aw shucks, we didn’t need to do so much work was a fleeting thought. But no, the reality I felt was that we probably only had one shot at it so do as much as we could within reason before going for it.

We spent another 45 minutes or so fixing the road up to at least as good as before the slide, maybe better. The rest of the drive up was completely uneventful.



In many places the road is perfectly fine. Other than a few spots that have previously washed out or given way (and not been repaired very well) there are short stretches where the track has been covered with concrete. Where this concrete ends there are some big drop off's that are caused, I think, by people on their way up (with 2WD) spinning their wheels at these points. The holes get bigger and the drops taller. The problem we had was caused by the slick surface. If it had been dry we would have sailed right through there. It was a good wakeup call though.

(to be continued: the trip home…that will be short and very anti-climactic)

Quote: Originally posted by David K

A Baja adventure, indeed! Thank you! I hope to visit that coast and the nearby missions soon. Kurt, maybe in May? I want to cover Agua Verde to La Paz. I was going to ask Squarecircle Roy and TW, etc. when I get back from this trip.

The Trip Home

Even with the 2.5 hour delay on the grade we were able to make Cd. Constitución before dark. We went straight to Palapa 206 and checked into one of Mike’s great rooms. Actually it was a detached cottage with an open roof single car garage. The truck won’t fit but we pull a bunch of gear into that space, shut the door and sort it at our leisure. Hard to beat for $35!

Next morning it was an easy drive to Loreto where we once again stayed with friends. We were only 10 minutes behind our planned 06:00 departure in the morning and camped near Coco’s Corner that night. At Ranch Grande we picked up a passenger. Emanuel was walking north along the road with a tire and rim under each arm. His car was about 45 km up the road.



His mother had been waiting with the car for four hours. Needles to say she was getting quite concerned. They both thanked us profusely; his mother tried to give us some money….thanks but really, it’s not necessary.

In the Rio Hardy area we camped for the second time at, ‘Campo Mosqueda’. Good place but I wouldn’t want to be there on a holiday or the weekend…seems like it could be crowded. It’s definitely truth in naming but we have a good mosquito net ; no hits during the night.



We arrived at the old port of entry around 10:30 on a Thursday morning and breezed through with only a 45 minute wait. We were home before dark.

--End--