Mike Humfreville
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Some Things Never Change
Some Things Never Change
We were cleaning our barn in preparation for home sale a while back. We encountered all my old stories from the ?60?s and ?70. In the midst of
dusting off old memories I came across the following letter we had written to our pals in L.A. during our first encounter in living at Bahia de Los
Angeles ? summer of 1974. It does offer a small insight to life there in those years. Papa Diaz was still doing large charters and Mama was running
the store and restaurant. Sammy would remount my TLC engine every 500 miles or so?
5/24/74
Hello All you Turkeys,
Well, listen ? this has been a great trip so far! The first day out of L.A. both drive shafts fell off our car and we burned 6 qts. of oil (40 weight
? not bad if you consider we were only firing on 4-5 pistons [1968 Toyota Land Cruiser with many Baja miles on her] We damn near got shot at about 9
P.M. just outside of T.J. ? it appears that our front drive fell off for the second time in an area where marijuana is smuggled across the border ?
some picture ? this crazy Mexican cop comes running up with his pistol drawn while I?m under the Toyota with my hands in the air trying to remember
the Mexican word for ?Uncle.?
Anyway, arriba and adelante ? the second day, in Rosarito Beach, we found that our now-famous $100 engine replacement needed rings badly. They wanted
$130 in Rosarito so we said no and headed south. All we have to do is clean the oil off the sparkplugs every 200 miles.
We traveled up and down the west coast [in the vicinity of Santa Rosallita] and found lots of wind and clouds and high prices. After 2 ? 3 days we
came over to where we are presently [Bahia de Los Angeles], and plan to stay for the summer. Man, this place is sure HOT, but it?s nice ? there is a
small town a few miles away with good well water and a few supplies. And I?ll tell you this once and only once ? the beer is 50 cents a can ? so
bring plenty if you come down. You can try to write us at this address:
Mike and Mary Ann Humfreville
C/O Antero Diaz, PO Box579, Ensenada,
Bangeles
Baja California, Mexico
However, I don?t know that we?ll get it. When we mail these letters we?ll get further info.
This place is really nice ? it?s less that half way down the peninsula on the EAST coast, a gigantic bay with just miles of the ?Sunkist? beaches
we?ve been rubbing you guys about. The water is absolutely turquoise, the fishing is great, it?s great in the shade even in the heat of the day, and
it?s cool at night (60 degrees).
We just finished building a hut out of Ocotillo cactus and we have an 8 by 8 foot room which serves as kitchen and bedroom. The pueblo [Bahia de Los
Angeles] is about 4 miles away and there they have a dirt landing strip and a hotel, etc. We go in occasionally to visit and on Saturday night for a
family style dinner with all the people at the hotel [the Diaz Ranch].
The road is paved except for the last 40 miles (which they are now prep-ing for pavement). Its great here ? but we really miss you all and REALLY
hope you come down sometime this summer.
We?d appreciate it if you?d let everyone know we?re OK and how to (tentatively) reach us. Also, why don?t you save our letters so we can have them
back when we get home.
XO,
Mike and Mary Ann
That was thirty years ago. We were just married when we set out to do something more in our lives than just work to survive. Our boys, miguelito and
Kevin are 27 and 25 respectively. They too have grown up with Baja in their blood. I look back at the bay in my first experiences there and
remember?I just remember.
[Edited on 12-13-2004 by Mike Humfreville]
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David K
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That is great Mike... like a time machine! Thank you for sharing. Just an observation: you and the automobile have never had a good working
relationship, have you???
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Mike Humfreville
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Thanks David. I have never taken very good care of my vehicles. But the '68 Totota Land Cruiser FJ-40 was one tough lady. My mother was an artist
and I got her to paint a turtle crawling over some rocks on the back of the vehicle. My brother lettered "La Tortuga" under the turtle. I had a tall
whip antenna for running the dunes south of Rosarito, with American and Mexican flags at the top of the mast. Many of my other veicles you have met,
POT, POT II, the jeep we bought in Banning when POT II went south, and the Suburban we bought in San Ignacio when POT II quit again.
In ~'69, La Tortuga blew up coming into Guerrero Negro. We found a mechanic right across from what was then the only Pemex in town and rented a hotel
for $3/night for a week. Mr. Genaro Kim diagnosed my engine and told me to get a used one. I asked him how I could do that here in the middle of
Baja. "There goes one now!" he said, pointing to a vehicle with the same engine. The driver had stopped in front of Genaro's and I asked if he'd
sell me his car. We bought it for $100, Genaro remove my old engine, installed the new one and bought plugs and a rotor with his own money. My total
bill was $32 for 4 days work.
Genaro Kim is a wonderful memory to me, yet another one this evening. On a later trip we broke down again and had to hitchhike back to L.A. Genaro
fixed the TLC over a month or so. I was wondering about it one day when the phone rang. Genaro had driven the TLC from Guerrero Negro to L.A. to
deliver it to us.
Genero was one hell of a guy. Typical of the locals in all the towns along the way. God love 'em!
Some people never learn. On the other hand, I've met some wonderful folks due to low maintenance.
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David K
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Just fantastic! Yes, great people...
I think you half hope you break down because it provides such great story material!
Keep on breaking down Mike!!
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Mike Humfreville
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An Old Story: Baja Heart
Baja Heart
The old Land Cruiser, white paint fading and brown with more rust than not, gave up at the junction. The driver pulled into the caf? across from the
sheriff's ranch in the dry dusty desert. He knew they could go no further, a rod had broken or some such and the car would leave them stranded in the
desert away from civilization even at that here. He entered the doorless caf?-home and looked around the empty table-strewn room. There was an
attached kitchen and living quarters, all peopleless..
"Hola??" He hollered into small echoes off barren walls. Shuffles from the back of the establishment. A small elderly woman appeared.
"My truck is broken." He said in Spanish. "Is it possible to store it here for a week or two?"
"Momento." The Senora said. She called her husband who directed the younger man to put his car in a protected place inside the rancho's cactus fence.
He moved the chattering truck into the yard and turned the engine off, set the brake. He climbed out of the truck. A woman exited the passenger
side, followed by two dogs, one small, one large and longhaired. The driver and the woman gathered some minimum luggage.
"I'll be back in two weeks." He told the older man. "What time does the bus come?"
"Tomorrow at ten in the morning."
The man and woman picked up their baggage, called to the dogs and crossed the deserted roadway. They sat in the dirt just off the pavement. When a
car or truck came by, every ten minutes or so, he stood and stuck out his thumb, asking symbolically for a ride. Where? one might ask. The border
was 350 miles north and there was little between here and there to capture one's attention. Then a camper pulling a boat pulled up to the junction,
crossed into the northbound side of the carreterra and stopped in front of the man with his thumb stuck out. The man walked to the driverside window.
"What's up?" the driver asked.
"Truck threw a rod. My wife and I and our two dogs are headed for an area just north of Los Angeles."
"We're a group of firemen and families from Long Beach. We can take you that far." The driver said.
"Where do you want us?" The group debarked the camper to determine the family's needs and assign positions.
"How 'bout you ride in the boat?" Someone said to the man. "And keep the dogs with you. They invited the woman inside the camper. There was room
there for one more. Soon they were driving north. The man and the dogs were sweltering in the open cabin of the boat, but at least they were making
progress. They continued for an hour or two and stopped for a break. Everyone asked how the man was doing in the back of the boat. "We're fine."
He said.
"Maybe we can find room in the camper." Someone said. And they did.
As the simple desert miles passed they had no other activities except to swap life stories and other simplicities. It turned out the group of
families was leaving La Gringa. They gathered every year there with other firemen for camping.
They drove straight through that afternoon evening and early morning of the following day, the firemen and their passengers, from Bahia de Los Angeles
to Long Beach. They arrived at 3 in the morning.
"Why don't you borrow our car?" One of them asked. "You can drive home and get yours and bring ours back later". These folks had known the man and
woman for 12 hours.
The man took them up on their offer. He drove off with the woman and two dogs with only trust between them and the others. He drove the tired drive
to La Crescenta, got his car and dropped off the dogs. The two of them drove in separate vehicles back to Long Beach, where they returned the car and
levied heavy thanks on the Long Beach firemen.
Thirty something years later it's a wonderful experience to reflect back on, these saviors of the desert that stopped and took on-board strangers,
transported them across deserts and borders knowing nothing about Mary Ann or me, loaning us a car when we could have stolen it never to be seen again
and disappeared over a horizon. with no questions asked they helped us unendingly and with their personal attentions to our needs. We were made
comfortable at their sacrifice that they made while smiling and with a want-to attitude. While this story includes only gringos, we were all inspired
by the people that live along the peninsula we love. Giving is the essence of life, the single aspect I won't live without. I see it exemplified
constantly in Baja California.
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Capt. George
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Gracias
It brings back similar memories of mine on the East Coast....Cape Cod etc...when it
was still a free country....
living on the outer beaches of the cape in the back of a Blazer....Selling striped Bass caught from the beach at night to pay our expenses and stay a
little longer...
Wrote a story a while back for the New England Fishermen. Maybe I'll get off my butt and share with you all.....
Lovin it in Baja.....the freedom I used to have.
Again Mike, Gracias for all your writings!
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Santiago
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| Quote: | Originally posted by Mike Humfreville
Thanks David. I have never taken very good care of my vehicles.
Some people never learn. On the other hand, I've met some wonderful folks due to low maintenance. |
I'm saving this quote for my buddy who hounded me for not having a sparkplug wrench that fit my boat motor - but without it we never would have met
Carlos ("When I came to this place I was broken").
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4baja
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Location: morro bay ca
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gret story mike, my 75 toyota land criuser was the toughest truck i have ever owned and went all over baja with it. the only problem i ever had was
that i broke two moter mounts on the way to abreojos and ended up comeing back to ensenada to fix it. the only reason i sold it was it used to much
gas. wish i would have kept it.
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bajalou
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Location: South of the broder
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Great stories mike. I guess we're all in Baja to try and capture a little of those same feelings and attitudes that you have found. Thanks for
reminding us about the wonderful people we can meet down here.
The Mexican mechanic is a real mechanic, not just a parts changer. They do miracles.
No Bad Days
\"Never argue with an idiot. People watching may not be able to tell the difference\"
\"The trouble with doing nothing is - how do I know when I\'m done?\"
Nomad Baja Interactive map
And in the San Felipe area - check out Valle Chico area |
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Mike Humfreville
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Registered: 8-26-2003
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Thanks Guys! Steve (4baja)...
Regarding my FJ-40: Somewhere along the way a friend converted my Toyota from the Japanese straight 6 to the small block V-8 Chevy that was a drop in
except for some small modification with the drive line. Whatever it was, about once a month I'd have to have the engine re-seated. I'd pull into
Sammy's shop, where Alfredo now sells gas and repairs, and Sammy would position me over his work pit, raise my engine up, and re-bolt it to the frame.
Mary Ann and I would walk up to Miguel's Dos Pinos, buy three sodas, give one to Sammy, eat breakfast, and the car would be ready. About an hour of
inconvenience and "getting to know you."
And Sammy charged: $3.
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4baja
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hey mike i know that the swap is easy but i did love that old straight six , setting up beths new tundra for baja and need to get that new con-fer
rack on top. wish you and mama were comeing down for new years but will handle the booze for you and us as well. happy new years!!!
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Mike Humfreville
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Posts: 1148
Registered: 8-26-2003
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Steve,
Yea, I think it's a little too soon for MA's new knees. She'd get around on the beach just fine but sitting in the truck for 13 hours would kill her.
Good luck with Beth's truck. You guys and the boy's have a good Christmas and drive carefully on the trip.
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