Baja Bernie
`Normal` Nomad Correspondent
Posts: 2962
Registered: 8-31-2003
Location: Sunset Beach
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Found this hanging around in my computer
Trek to San Ignacio
Circa 1938
By Bernie Swaim
Somewhere in Mexicali, Baja California, Senora Octavia Lopez de Romero is looking desperately for transportation to San Ignacio in Baja Sur. A trip
of untold hardship even if she can secure transportation. The lady is frantic because her husband Alberto Romero has informed her that he will not
work another summer in this hellhole! Temperatures hover around 112 degrees during the day and only cool off to 98 during the night. Alberto tells
her that he plans on leaving the valley and going to “Otra Lado” to make his fortune. He has also mentions the fact that she and their three ninos
will have to stay in Baja and await his return. Knowing that once a husband crosses the border he is seldom if ever seen again she became crazy with
fear. What was she to do? Her boys were just two and five years old and her daughter, Guadalupe, is barely a year old.
Frantic, Senora Romero searches for a way to keep her familia intact. She remembers her home in San Ignacio and paints such a lovely picture of an
oasis where it is always cool and no one has to work hard that her man is convinced. He tells her that she must find transportation to this southern
paradise. She locates an old man who says that he will move them in his old buckboard as far as Ensenada for 80 pesos (at 4 to one that is $20.00 US)
Cristos! So much money for such a small step in the journey. Baste y bandito! No way!
For the next few days she washes their meager clothes and purchases those supplies that she can affords. Constantly, she is seeking better
transportation back home. Finally she finds two brothers, Luis and Juan Parra who own a Dilagencia (Stagecoach) and are willing to make the entire
journey of over 600 miles for “ a very reasonable” 300 pesos for the family. How does this work, a man makes only about 10-12 pesos a day in Baja and
they are asking the grand sum of over a months wages to travel a little over 600 miles. Back and forth they go until Juan realizes that his family is
related to Senora Romero. Suddenly the fare is down to 175 pesos and that will cover a little more than expenses. Familia is everything in this
land! They must share the ride with three other passengers so that the brothers can make a slight profit
The price is agreed to and Octavia returns home to sell their simple shack and it contents for a grand sum of 98 pesos. Their donkey goes for 20
pesos and they have nothing left but the food and clothes for the trip. They are still over fifty pesos short of the fare.
Neighbors understand their plight and come to the rescue with a fiesta. This is a party like those of the western frontier of the United States where
everyone chips it to help their neighbors. Even ‘Beto’ was amazed, drinking and dancing all night and even then their friends raised eighty-five pesos
to see their friend home. Now they even have enough money to purchase food on the Camino.
Hey! Lets talk about the Dilagencia (stagecoach). A monster of a vehicle it is old 1920’s Packard Seven Passenger Open Touring car with a 143 inch
wheel base and wheels of 19 inches that will allow it to clear most rocks and boulders on the way south. The tires are made to slide off the solid
steel wheels for easy repair. We will see that this was a major reason these majestic old Packard’s were bought for the small some of 200 pesos about
$50.00 US. The engine produces about 90 horsepower and their low gear ratio allows them to climb up a wall. In low gear a man can walk circles around
this workhorse vehicle. Perfect for the trip south where no real road existed after leaving Enseneda. Several of these vehicles were in service in
the 20’s and 30’s with most of them hauling manufactured goods and letters from the north and returning with dates, oranges and cheeses from the
south. Seldom did they have more than one or two passengers heading in either direction.
So! Wow! Five Romero’s plus the brothers and the other three passengers, who would be picked up in Tijuana, made for a very tight ten-passenger ride.
The three kids rode on the top and the adults wrapped themselves around the their clothing and meager supplies. Not even a fun trip with two kids
with leaky diapers ( paper diapers had not even be invented) and water was a thing seldom seen. Ug!
Everyone met at the old train station at 2:30 am so that they could be across the desert and over the mountains at La Rumorosa (4120 feet) before the
heat of the day. Luis pulls over about half way up that treacherous, curving road to re-fill the radiator. Canvas water bags hang all about the
Deligencia. What a view! The Valley of Mexicali, the railroad station and far off the Colorado River.
They pull into Tecate at noon, fill up with water and kept going to Tijuana. They arrive just before dark and camp at the Aqua Caliente springs.
Juan and Luis hit on a plan to increase their profits on the trip by picking up southbound mail in Tijuana and delivering it to the various villages
and Rancho’s as they proceeded south.
Up early the next morning and on the road south. Dropping into Rosarito on that dusty old dirt road they stop for water and gas and then push on to
Ensenada. Up and over the mountains and through the old Crostwaite Rancho at La Mision. They spent the night in San Miguel where the fresh water
enticed the Padres past Enseneda over a hundred years earlier. The roar of the waves at La Playa lulls the exhausted traveler instantly to sleep.
Only Luis stands guard.
Not enough fresh water to bathe so a few of the passengers proceeded into the waves with all of their clothes on. Must have made them cool for the
hour, but then the salt began to cake and itch! Loaded up with water they only stop in Ensenada to drop off and pickup the mail, buy gas, and a few
supplies.
This is where the world stops and only the very hardy venture further south.
That old Packard is on a tear, no stopping, except, well you know, until they reach the Johnson Ranch near Punta Colonet. Clams, beans and rice
filled the holes in their stomachs and the hollows in their cheeks. Smiles everywhere. Tequila for the Parra brothers and one shot each for the rest
of the men.
As Octavia washed diapers in a small pond along the road, ‘Beto waxed eloquently about how easy the trip had proven to be and how they only had about
seven or eight more days of travel to reach San Ignacio. Octavia told stories of growing up in the oasis and the beautiful church that was their
destination. She told of the fruit that was free for the picking and how no one ever went hungry. It didn’t seem to bother either of them that they
had very little money and no prospects of for a job for Beto.
The next day saw them traveling along the Pacific coast where the onshore breeze made everyone relatively comfortable. They were hoping to overnight
at El Rosario but that was not to be. Five flat tires slowed them down considerably. With each blowout the routine was the same. Find a fairly level
spot, jack up the car, remove the tire, pull out the tube, patch and replace it, and then pump the tire up by hand. A tiring and dirty process that
was to occur on an average of four times a day during the trip. For the passengers it was a welcome relief from the bone-jolting ride.
Late that evening saw the stage pulling into Rancho Socorro where the owner emptied his children’s beds so the two women could sleep indoors for the
first time since the trip began. The women of the house prepared flour tortillas and machaca con huevos for dinner. The kids slept on the floor and
the men slept under the Packard to keep from being stomped on by the cattle that were penned in the yard. The men became very adept at picking
sleeping locations that avoided the black oil that dripped from the engine and rear end. Everyone slept in their clothes.
El Rosario sprang up before them early the next morning just as the ‘Stage’ began to cough and sputter as it ran out of gas. Rather than empty the
two spare gas cans everyone but the kids hit the ground and pushed that monster, with the help of several towns’ people, about a block to the ‘gas
station.’ The pump was the type that required the attendant to crank the gas up into a clear five-gallon gas tank that then dispensed the gas with
the help of gravity. Crank it up and let it flow. The dilaginca had a 40-gallon gas tank so this process took enough time for the passengers to grab
a seafood burrito for lunch.
Now they were all heading into the mountains and the heat of the interior deserts. Fantastic views but no one was looking. Heads down everyone was
looking at the faint track called a Carretera (really not much more than a donkey trail) that meandered around boulders that were even larger than the
Packard. Grande Mesas and extinct volcanoes dotted the horizon. Undertones of quiet bickering broke out amongst the passengers. After several more
flats and a broken spring before they reach the onyx mine at El Marmol (marble).
Frontier hospitality had greeted them at every rancho and village up to this point but not at this hardscrabble mining camp. When they asked for
water that was okay and one guy agreed to use his equipment to fix the spring. But when it came to gas and oil it was no dice until Juan Parra
rummaged in his kit and came out with a bottle of Tequila that he passed around. A few good snorts and they were allowed to top off their gas and
oil.
A skimpy dinner, a very short siesta and they were off before dawn the next day. Before noon they were in Catavina where the women and children
bathed in the ponds before resuming the journey. They made a brief stop at Rancho Santa Ines for gas. It’s a long, dusty haul across the Laguna
Chapala before they can head back toward the Pacific Coast and Miller’s Landing. That was where the onyx from El Marmolito, another onyx mine just a
short distance from the coast, was loaded on ships for shipment to San Diego. Strangely, it was then trucked back to Tijuana where it was made into
chess sets and other tourist items.
Everyone enjoyed the coolness of the ocean breezes after the scorching heat of the desert. All feasted on a seafood dinner that was provided by local
fisherman for just a few pesos. Another night spent under the stars while the fire roared. Quietly they talked about the final day of travel ahead
of them. God willing they should sight the cool oasis and their goal---San Ignacio soon. Nerves were raw and everyone was ready for the terrible
trip to be over.
The next day much laughter was heard as they broke camp and headed for El Arco a gold mining camp where they could top off with fuel and water before
the last sprint across the desert and into San Ignacio.
Everyone was up before dawn the next day and ready to cross that last stretch of desert before they would see the palm and date trees, the water and
the Mision San Ignacio in the background.
Entering the town plaza Octavia jumped from the stage, weeping, to embrace her grandmother who was just leaving the church. Now she knew her familia
was safe.
Eight very tough, hard, hot days with 10 people crammed in a vehicle meant to hold 7 people comfortably. No hotels or motels and very
few places to buy gas or other supplies. Dirty diapers had to be cared for every single day.
We complain if it takes us two days and one night spent in very comfortable motels to make the same trip. To say nothing of the paved road and
air-conditioning in the car.
Now I must share with you the fact that Don Jimmy Smith the author of ‘The Grinning Gargoyle Spills the Beans” told me the basics of this story
because his wife Dońa Guadalupe del Socorro Romero Lopez de Smith was the child who made this trip in 1938. Jimmy made the same trip in 1954 on
a motorcycle and pursued Dońa Lupe until she married him a few years later.
Thanks to David Kier for his help in identifying the most likely route that the Parra brothers would have taken almost 70 years ago—over 40 years
before the route became paved.
A side note: The Parra brothers found that they could make even more money by moving the figs, dates, and cheeses back north. They would buy the
dates in San Ignacio and trade them for chivo de queso (goat cheese) as they moved north. This with the mails proved to be much more profitable and
much easier than dealing with people.
Life on the frontier—so glad I was not there.
Later in his life Luis Parra became the Sheriff of Santa Rosalia. He became famous as the man who calmly walked up to the fugitive and serial killer
William Cook and quietly placed him under arrest. The Hollywood Movie, the Hitch-hiker was the result. Cook was executed in San Quintin a short time
later.
The End
My smidgen of a claim to fame is that I have had so many really good friends. By Bernie Swaim December 2007
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64854
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
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Mood: Have Baja Fever
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My pleasure Bernie, it is nice to read your story here on Baja Nomad!
Maps (1941) of the road they took in '38 have been shared here on Nomad... Here is part that shows the Johnson Ranch, (San Antonio Del Mar) and it
services to travelers:
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BajaBlanca
Select Nomad
Posts: 13197
Registered: 10-28-2008
Location: La Bocana, BCS
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so fun reading that story but I also am REALLY glad it was not me traveling south at that time .,.,.,.
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goldhuntress
Senior Nomad
Posts: 663
Registered: 1-28-2010
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Great story, thank you.
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windgrrl
Super Nomad
Posts: 1335
Registered: 9-2-2006
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San Ignacio is a wonderful oasis. Thanks for the story and I'll remember it on the way down on in modern comfort come November.
More frontier stories, please.
When the way comes to an end, then change. Having changed, you pass through.
~ I-Ching
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64854
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
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Mood: Have Baja Fever
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| Quote: | Originally posted by windgrrl
San Ignacio is a wonderful oasis. Thanks for the story and I'll remember it on the way down on in modern comfort come November.
More frontier stories, please. |
Are you familiar with Bernie's books?
Here's one:
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bacquito
Super Nomad
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Registered: 3-6-2007
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Mood: jubilado
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Really interesting, thanks!
bacquito
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thebajarunner
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3718
Registered: 9-8-2003
Location: Arizona....."Free at last from crumbling Cali
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Mood: muy amable
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Let's do another book
| Quote: | Originally posted by David K
| Quote: | Originally posted by windgrrl
San Ignacio is a wonderful oasis. Thanks for the story and I'll remember it on the way down on in modern comfort come November.
More frontier stories, please. |
Are you familiar with Bernie's books?
Here's one:
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O.K. Bernie
Let's stop talking and start writing- again....
"Sterling"
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Mexitron
Ultra Nomad
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Location: Fort Worth, Texas
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Thanks Bernie---another great story!
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Eli
Super Nomad
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Registered: 8-26-2003
Location: L.B. Baja Sur
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Good story Bernie, I hadn't checked into Nomads for a while, glad I opened and found your tread today.
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David K
Honored Nomad
Posts: 64854
Registered: 8-30-2002
Location: San Diego County
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Mood: Have Baja Fever
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Bump... Johnson Ranch search...
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BajaBlanca
Select Nomad
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Registered: 10-28-2008
Location: La Bocana, BCS
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read the story again. enjoyed it as much as the first time!
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