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AKgringo
Elite Nomad
Posts: 6030
Registered: 9-20-2014
Location: Anchorage, AK (no mas!)
Member Is Offline
Mood: Retireded
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It could have been worse, a lot worse! I would tell you about a clean, customized Chevy that went through a tide cycle a couple of miles south of
Deep Creek, but that would be an Alaska hijack, not a Baja story!
If you are not living on the edge, you are taking up too much space!
"Could do better if he tried!" Report card comments from most of my grade school teachers. Sadly, still true!
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defrag4
Senior Nomad
Posts: 536
Registered: 2-5-2011
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poor yota 
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JZ
Select Nomad
Posts: 10568
Registered: 10-3-2003
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All mine are boat related.
Lost 1 engine coming back from Kino Bay to San Carlos, Sonora. Limped for 60 miles. Took a very long time.
Same thing crossing from Santa Rosalia to the mainland. Middle of the SoC, and we lost an engine. Took 5 hours to make it in. Super calm day. We
cooked taco on the grill and drank Pacificos.
Last year we were coming back from the islands in La Paz and the dumb ass captain under estimated the amount of gas required. We very luckily made it
across the channel to near Balandra before it died. It was really rough through the gap, would have been nasty to be floating out there.
Biggest on land break down was trying to ride the Pioneer Mine trail about a year ago. My kid's bike over heated. One of his friends ran into him
when we were out riding a couple weeks before. Turns out the radiator was really pushed in underneath the plastics.
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mtgoat666
Select Nomad
Posts: 18392
Registered: 9-16-2006
Location: San Diego
Member Is Offline
Mood: Hot n spicy
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Quote: Originally posted by Finchaser2020  | Sold the truck to a friend in El Socorro and it was used there for a few years. I heard that it ended up in Ensenada. It was the source of many
stories about mechanical problems......go figure.....lol
Amazing it ran at all after spending two high tides on the beach...
And yes, insurance did not cover getting it stuck in the ocean 
The most difficult part of the adventure was trying to explain how it all went down to the wife!
We are headed back down this November!
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Hopefully you learned your lesson!
I never drive on the beach for a variety of reasons:
You never know when liquefaction or non-cohesive sand will trap you (looks are deceiving)
Getting stuck sucks (and you only got a few hours to get the flock unstuck- been there-done that)
Majority of beach users are ANNOYED by vehicles on the beach, so why be that @sshat?;
Driving on beach is damaging to habitat; and
It is illegal most everywhere.
Woke!
“...ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.” “My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America
will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.”
Prefered gender pronoun: the royal we
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mooose29
Nomad
Posts: 201
Registered: 10-1-2008
Location: Encinitas/Punta Chivato, Rancho Partera
Member Is Offline
Mood: All Smiles
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Finchaser a great video and quite a wild story/adventure
About 10 years ago or so I was following my Dad in his giant 4x4 motorhome through Viscaino. At the south end headed out of town there is a very large
speed bump that we know is there as we have been traveling in Baja my entire life.
My Dad forgot about the bump and being late afternoon/evening just didn’t see it and hit the thing going about 30-40. I see the ass end of the
motor home go flying up and everything comes to a quick stop with the rear axle hanging at a very unnatural angle.
Hitting the bump sheared off one of the shackles holding the rear axle to the motorhome. This all happened in front of about a dozen men hanging out
drinking beer and having a good time. We immediately had several “mechanics” on hand and within about 20 minutes with a 4x4 chunk of wood, a high
lift jack, some chain, a come along, and a lot of beer, laughs, and plenty of opinions we had the axle back in place and the motor home drivable so we
could get it to the shop of one of the helpers.
Within about 30 minutes of being at the shop the mechanic had found an old shackle somewhere out in the desert and some other hardware needed, got his
welder out and before we know the repairs were done and we were ready to be back on the road.
The mechanic refused to take anything more than about $25 bucks even though we were insisting he accept more he would not. When back in the States my
Dad and I went to Sears and bought a 200-250 piece craftsman’s tool set and next time down we stopped by and dropped off the tools and had some more
laughs about that speed bump with the mechanic.
I have several more great stories that I will try and write up in the next day or so. One constant is we have always been able to get fixed and back
on the road and we have truly experienced some of the best of people and Baja when broken down.
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SFandH
Elite Nomad
Posts: 7084
Registered: 8-5-2011
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I bet speed bumps have broken many cars. And that reminds me of my latest automotive mishap. This past May I was driving north and at the little town
just south of the Bahia de Los Angeles turnoff I had to brake (break) heavily because a speed bump suddenly appeared. The 3/4 ton 2003 Ford with the
Callen camper loaded with stuff started to stop and then the brake pedal went down to the floor. Chit! No brakes in the middle of nowhere. Now what?
Luckily there was a spot to get off the road and I managed to stop, the brakes still worked but barely. Looked under the truck and the brake line to
the right rear wheel is broken. This truck has lived within the sound of waves breaking on the beach its whole life and everything not painted is
rusted. The brake line just rusted away. I had a quart of brake fluid with me so I topped off the reservoir, turned around and went the short distance
back to the little town.
Just off the highway, I found a mechanic with a bunch of wrecks in his yard. He scavenged a brake line off of some kind of Ford that had the right
connectors on it, installed it, bled the brakes, and after a couple of hours or so away we went. He wanted 600 pesos, I gave him 1000.
I just sold the rust-bucket for $500 to a friend. 168,000 miles. It looks OK and runs good, it's just all the rust underneath and in the engine
compartment. The buyer was fully aware of the rust issues and jury-rigged brake line.
[Edited on 8-20-2019 by SFandH]
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Paco Facullo
Super Nomad
Posts: 1301
Registered: 1-21-2017
Location: Here now
Member Is Offline
Mood: Abiding ..........
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Great story's from ya'll,,,,
I guess that's the thing about Baja and breaking down needing help. It brings out the good in people and the Mexican's that live there are some of the
best !
Damn sure makes for great memories and stories.
Moose, Class move with bringing the mechanic the tools !
[Edited on 8-20-2019 by Paco Facullo]
Since I've given up all hope, I feel much better
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thebajarunner
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3718
Registered: 9-8-2003
Location: Arizona....."Free at last from crumbling Cali
Member Is Offline
Mood: muy amable
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Changing a tire without a jack..... nothing to it.
We lost a jack somewhere in the midst of a Baja 500, then had a flat over south of Huerfenito.
(How the jack got left behind is a whole nother story)
You got to get off the hard road and get the wounded wheel on something fairly soft. Then you gather rocks and build a pyramid under the axle, and
then you get the shovel and dig out under the flat until it is free. Quick change, then you have to get back on all 4.
If it is not on the drive wheels, just drive it off.
If it is on a drive axle, and you don't have a locker, then you have to fill your hole back with rocks, truck in neutral, and rock it back and forth
until it drops.
All this while race minutes are ticking away.
Try it, it works.
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mooose29
Nomad
Posts: 201
Registered: 10-1-2008
Location: Encinitas/Punta Chivato, Rancho Partera
Member Is Offline
Mood: All Smiles
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A break down of our own doing.
Pre running for the 500 many years ago in Dad’s Myers Towed. We left San Felipe in the morning and told the wives we would be back in the afternoon
and don’t worry unless it gets dark.
A few miles past Mike’s Sky Rancho Dad takes an off camber left hand turn a bit too fast. I remember hanging on to the sissy bar for dear life while
looking down the canyon to my right as the rear slides around and catches the ditch on the outside of the corner. The tire catches and we roll over
4-6 times about 50-75 feet down the canyon and miraculously we come to rest on our tires. The first couple of rolls were violent and man I wish we
had those on video the last couple were like in super slow motion as the canyon pulled us further down.
We both looked at each other with eyes as big as dinner plates, ask if we are each ok and start unbuckling to survey the carnage. Dad had a small cut
on his leg and I was unscathed. full roll cage, 5 point harnesses, helmets, and a lot of luck saved the day for both of us for sure. Wow
So now what we are miles from anywhere and down this fairly steep canyon. We climb up to the road and wait for some racers to come by. Lucky since
this was a week or so before the race there were a fair amount of riders out and we didn’t have to wait long till a couple dudes on motorcycles came
by.
They offered a ride and we decided Dad would ride to town to find help on the back of a bike and I would stay with the buggy.
I spent the first couple hours picking up tools and parts of buggy that had flown off during our crash. Then a hour or 2 sitting on the side of the
road or in the buggy waiting and talking to passing riders/racers who universally all stopped to find out what happened and if I was OK. A lot of
laughs and head shakes were had at our expense that day, and certainly deserved. Finally 4-5 in the afternoon Dad shows up with a hand full of racers
in a pit truck I think it was a big Ford F-350 and we set about getting the buggy out of the canyon.
I think it was 3 or 4 tow straps linked together and that truck pulled us out easy. So now we are back on the road getting ready to tow back to town
and Dad says wait why don’t we try and start it. Turn the key a little gas and that old 1960 something VW engine fires right up. But is making an
awful noise which we quickly determine is the fan hitting a cowling that got all beat up so out come a hammer and pry bar and a couple minutes later
no more racket. Lots of high fives head shakes and a few cold beers and we in on the road.
We get on the road the truck follows us to the highway we go right they go left. We had trailered to Mikes so we needed to get the buggy to the
suburban/trailer we had left at Mikes.
All is good until the turn off for Mikes and a belt let lose and something else broke and we were dead literally at the turn off. So still miles from
our ride and getting dark and we are stuck again. We start looking for a ride and along comes a rancher in an old beat to hell pickup and says jump in
the back I’ll take you there. I sat in the back with a couple of goats as I recall.
We get the suburban and trailer then back to the buggy, wrestle the buggy on the trailer with a come along and we are on our way back to camp in San
Felipe. It is now dark and I know the girls are gonna be worried as we said we would be back hours ago and we still have a couple hours to get back.
As we pull in to camp they are literally pulling out with several trucks of racers, friends, and family to come and rescue us. We had a lot of laughs
and still do over that story that night. Although the wives were not amused for a while. This was before Spot, cell reception, etc... so we really
had no way to letting them know we were OK.
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wiltonh
Nomad
Posts: 302
Registered: 2-2-2007
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In 1998 I was flying to meet friends in La Paz. They were driving down with a trailer. When I got off the plane they told me the trailer was broken
down at a camp at the edge of La Paz. The spindle had broken and the trailer stopped them on the pavement in front of the old RV camp next to the
water. They got it into the first camp spot and waited for me to show up.
The trailer was made from an old Ford rear axle so I removed the remaining part and headed to the junk yard. All they had was a front plate with the
steering arm connected. I told the guy that I needed the rear one not the front one and he got out his cutting torch and cut off the steering arm.
He then ground the cut flat.
I stopped at a hardware and purchased a hand full of washers and put them behind the plate until it was as true as my eye could get it. They went
South to our camping location and them back to Oregon in the spring. After 2000 miles that tire was worn off on one edge.
[Edited on 8-21-2019 by wiltonh]
[Edited on 8-22-2019 by wiltonh]
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thebajarunner
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3718
Registered: 9-8-2003
Location: Arizona....."Free at last from crumbling Cali
Member Is Offline
Mood: muy amable
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"Grabbing the sissy bar in a roll over" reminds me of the time that my partner Chuck was invited to pre-run for the 1000 with the Stroppe team.
Big Bill Rush, perennial 4 wheel drive champ, rolled his Bronco on the pre-run. It was an open rig with a full roll cage and he had a firm grip with
his left hand on the roll bar. Left one finger behind. Not quite sure where you should put your hands in a rollover.
I remember that Danica Patrick used to let go of the wheel and put her hands in her lap when she wrecked (frequently) in IndyCar and NASCAR.
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pniles
Newbie
Posts: 8
Registered: 6-27-2006
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It was November 1995 and a friend and I had just completed a kayak trip from Loreto to La Paz. Heading north my Isuzu Trooper transmission failed
about 15 miles south of Vizcaino. My friend towed me to a tiny half open-air auto shop on Highway 1 on the south end of Vizcaino. The owner and
mechanic, Esteban was a handsome and friendly bantam weight boxer looking character who adapted immediately to my present tense only Spanish. The next
couple of days Esteban and some teen age “apprentices” tore the transmission down but soon decided they couldn’t fix it. I slept in the Trooper
in the shop yard for the next week as plan B was developed, mostly by Esteban.
He managed to contact two or three different guys that could tow me to the border. But, after going to of all auto shops and stores, and numerous
contacts in a facinating tour around town, a tow-bar could not be found anywhere. Esteban said he could build one with his (decrepit) arc welder but
was out of acetylene needed to cut out some of the pieces. After a trip to Guerrero Negro to get acetylene for him, money for me, and groceries for
his shy wife, he completed the tow bar in the next day or two. I was impressed with the result.
The first guy ready to tow me was scheduled to show up the next morning. He would not have been my first choice. He was a loud mouth duded out
nightclub cowboy drunk I had met in the shop previously. But thankfully, in the evening, a regular around the shop, with one ear ring, who hadn’t
weighed in before, said he would take my Trooper in the back of his enclosed tomato truck. I don’t remember, but maybe for as little as $200. In the
dark we towed the Trooper out of town to a sand dune hump that with planks made a half ass loading ramp. With difficulty (and a subsequent medical
issue) we loaded the Trooper, with the sea kayak next to it.
In the morning (?) after picking up a friend of his to accompany us, we headed for Tijuana. It was a slow (the overdrive was out) but entertaining
trip, with lots of laughing, and music. That night the three of us “slept” sitting in the cab together huddled under my mummy bag, I think at
Catavina. We got to Tijuana in the evening, found a flatbed tow truck that could go across the border, went through secondary, and me and my trooper
were delivered to the curb in front of the San Diego Trooper dealer. It took another week for them to fix it. I think they had to have parts shipped
in. I can’t remember any specifics about what failed, but I think the cause was an incorrect transmission oil that I had used.
The next year, after a bicycle trip from Santa Inez to the Santa Maria mission, I stopped to visit Esteban. It was an inopportune time. The shop was
empty so I stepped into the weeping willow shaded yard connecting his shop to his house. I saw Esteban in a hammock in the shade, a blanket tossed
over him. He recognized and welcomed me, and lifted the blanket to show me what looked like a Winchester 30-30 pointed in my direction, and pulling
the blanket further showed me a long freshly healed scar across his chest. He of course had been waiting for someone other than me.
I quickly decided it wasn’t a good time to visit.
I don’t remember what more if anything he said about his immediate troubles. Hanging out at Esteban’s shop the previous year I had gathered that
the crime scene in Vizcaino, both petty and major, was much larger than I had imagined for such a small town. In light of what I had learned then, I
think Esteban was involved in some kind of factional dispute where problems are solved outside of the local police.
As I left Esteban told me that he had gotten a hernia when we loaded the Trooper into the truck, and that he subsequently crossed the border to get
surgery done in Oregon where I think he had a brother. I had no doubt but that this was true.
The next year, 1997, on a surfing trip, I bought a red 220 Volt Lincoln Arc Welder in Ensenada, the ones that look like a large vintage am radio, and
delivered it to Esteban as a small payment for the help he had given me. I haven’t been in touch with Esteban since then. Esteban is like so many
people I have met in Baja that would give you the shirt off their back. Because of the sensitive nature of the above details I thought it best to
avoid using Esteban’s real name in this story.
I think now that it would have been more efficient to have had my friend contract a flatbed wrecker in Tijuana to come down and get by me and the
Trooper. I did not want my friend himself to have to tow me with a tow bar.
After more than 30 trips to Baja, what amazes me about this and similar edgy experiences is how alive and happy one can be during the experience, with
a feeling of living to the fullest. At least as long as things turn out OK.
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SFandH
Elite Nomad
Posts: 7084
Registered: 8-5-2011
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Good story. I too had to be towed out of Baja once. Multiple day fiasco, multiple tow trucks, playing it by ear. It actually worked out, one step at a
time.
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64856
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Dear pniles,
Your story is great and it sounds like you have more?
I would really enjoy reading about your bike ride to Mission Santa María and the kayak trip, too.
Nomads could really use some fresh blood!
Thank you and welcome aboard!
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pniles
Newbie
Posts: 8
Registered: 6-27-2006
Member Is Offline
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Thanks David.
Regarding the bike trip to Santa Maria, I think I can polish that off right here without making a new thread. The bike trip to the Santa Maria mission
was a pretty minor achievement.
I had turned 60 and it was next on my Baja bucket list. I recall a vigorous and super satisfying, but easy, trip. I think it was 15 miles in. I
didn’t know what to expect beyond the first mile or so, so had prepared waypoints on a topo so I wouldn’t get lost. On the way in from Santa Inez
I talked to Schoonmacher (?) at his cabin (with his wrecked airplane in the yard; wrecked at the Santa Inez air strip after the thief was unprepared
for the torque of his particular motor and on takeoff tipped sideways into the runway, or something like that). I don’t recall getting much insight
as to the road to Santa Maria ahead, but he did seem somewhat concerned about my plan. I probably looked helpless, and he didn’t want to have to
rescue me.
I wish I had asked him where to look for the petroglyphs. I looked for big horns but saw none.
I wore a regular backpack while riding the mountain bike. I walked with the backpack resting on the bike while I pushed it up hill or through loose
sand. My gut recollection is the road up to the highest point was like riding on a of decomposed granite path through Joshua Tree park. Vehicles had
clearly used the road so there was no chance of getting lost.
The part going down into the mission valley was very rough and bouldery. But not an issue so much when walking with a bike. But I do recall a part
near the bottom with side by side gullies 2 or 3 ft deep going down a moderately steep slope. Hardly any flat road surface left, just ridges. Nothing
could drive through there I said to myself--yet at the bottom, in the swampy area, I saw an old motorcycle track in the clay!
I have generally followed the Nomad coverage of Santa Maria trips for years, and never remember specifics, but see that I made a note about you (David
K) going to the mission on a quad in 1999. Did you navigate the gullies, or did I imagine them? Were you there before 1997?
I slept in the open, inside the mission against the crumbled 2-ft high south side wall. I was awakened at about 10 pm by eight flashlight beams
scanning my camp. An Mexican ecotourism group from Ensenada had walked down from the top, leaving behind something like a big-tire Suburban 4x4. I
think they were intending to come part of the way down, but had broken something on the way in and only had two wheel drive, so got in late.
The eco group was great company and they invited me to join them at the world class oasis, a long walk downstream of the mission. That was a nice
discovery.
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pniles
Newbie
Posts: 8
Registered: 6-27-2006
Member Is Offline
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The bike trip was in November, 1997.
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64856
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
Member Is Offline
Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Very interesting!
My first time in was that quad ride in 1999 that you mentioned: http://www.vivabaja.com/missionsm/
It was my first return to Baja after a couple of dry years. It was after I got a computer and discovered there were other Baja nuts out there. I began
my website with that trip.
My second time to Santa María was in my first Tacoma and traveled with two other Nomads/ Amigos, back in 2003 with my daughter: http://www.vivabaja.com/403/ We went to the petroglyphs. They are along the Indian trail (original El Camino Real) that drops into the canyon from
the end of the bulldozed roadbed. Photos in this page.
My third time was in 2007, with my second Tacoma, my future wife 'Baja Angel,' and we traveled with Roy 'The squarecircle' and his lady Blanche. That
was the trip we camped down at that oasis a mile past the mission and saw the bighorn sheep. http://vivabaja.com/msm/
My fourth and last time was in 2010 with my third Tacoma and a small group of Baja Nomads, it was great! http://vivabaja.com/msm2010/
At the peninsular divide (high point), 9.9 miles from Santa Ynez and 4.5 miles from the mission.
BajaTripper, Zully, CG, Baja Angel, Kurt G, Neal Johns, Baja Bucko, Art (edm1), Mia, HB Murphy, Zoom. Photo was taken by me, David K.
ROAD LOG
0.0 Rancho Santa Ynez, take road through left gate, north of ranch.
0.9 FORK, go left/ uphill.
1.8 Deep Gully, 4WD climb out (if this scares you, go back!).
2.4 Rock pile, a road to left, go straight/ right fork.
4.7 Cement monument off to left (tracks continue past monument).
5.6 Arroyo crossing with palms.
9.9 Peninsular Divide, view of Punta Final on the gulf.
13.3 Top of the 'Widowmaker' grade.
14.4 MISION SANTA MARIA
15.4 Road enters sandy Arroyo Santa Maria, after very steep downgrade. The oasis pool is up the arroyo, left here.
15.7 Turn left, out of arroyo (may be hidden by plants). Tracks ahead in arroyo end in 1/4 mile.
15.9 El Camino Real climbs to the left, up hillside. The mission trail stays out of the canyon, along the north ridge and returns to the arroyo at the
east end of the canyon.
16.0 Roadbed washed out. Park and hike on to end of bulldozed grade to see petroglyphs, canyon view, Indian trail to canyon bottom.
[In 2010, large rocks prevented driving past Mile 15.5 so some of us hiked on to see the Camino Real and petroglyphs.]
[Edited on 8-24-2019 by David K]
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Skipjack Joe
Elite Nomad
Posts: 8084
Registered: 7-12-2004
Location: Bahia Asuncion
Member Is Offline
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Whenever we broke down in Baja my ex would break down crying.
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Lee
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3508
Registered: 10-2-2006
Location: High in the Colorado Rockies
Member Is Offline
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Looking for mechanics, any speciality, down South that can be added to the Mechanics in Baja thread, currently being viewed.
Name, speciality, location/landmark, number, if available.
US Marines: providing enemies of America an opportunity to die for their country since 1775.
What I say before any important decision.
F*ck it.
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