That's My Story

BAJA ROAD TRIPPING

Originally published the week of January 2, 2007 in Western Outdoor News

Back in the day, when I actually had time to drive up and down the length of Baja we’d do all kinds of idiotic things hauling all manner of toys through the Baja desert. Most of them are things I would never ever do again!

As I look back, it’s amazing no one got hurt or we didn’t lose more stuff or damage more vehicles or have more crisis. But that was also part of the lure of Baja. It was ALWAYS an adventure. Nothing was ever really as it appeared or as planned and that was the allure because you always pretty much laughed through it when all was said and done.

Back in the day, I would literally drive non-stop from the border to Cabo in about 19 – 22 hours. If you’ve never driven the Baja it’s not like wizzing down the interstate back home. While hardly a donkey road, Baja’s main Highway 1 is not a road you take lightly. There’s blind curves; rocks; herds of critters crossing; animals snoozing on the warm pavement; other vehicles going too fast/slow with highlights/no lights behind/in front of you; zero road shoulders…and that was on the GOOD parts of the highway!

I would drive like a madman; take care of biz in Cabo or La Paz then rest about 3 hours and turn right around and drive back to Los Angeles. I’d rest a day or two then drive all the way back…on a whim! It was almost like a commute. Not exactly phi beta kappa thinking.

Most of the time I was hauling things for folks like fishing gear; kayaks; boats; computer parts, etc. You name it and it was probably in my van at one point or another. I once did a favor for a hotel owner who craved cases of Polish sausage, cheddar cheese and fresh mushrooms in the days before those were readily sold in Baja. He wanted it in it in 48 hours and was willing to pay. With a bonus if I was even faster!

But that didn’t stop me from doing things like running my gas tank well past “E” and hoping to find a Pemex stations “on the other side of the hill.” It didn’t stop me from driving through the night of freezing Catavinia’s mountains with the windows rolled down screaming at the top of my lungs trying to stay awake.

It didn’t stop me from driving with no spare tire. No flashlight. No spare gas. No maps. No cell phone (no cell phones in those days). No spare oil or more than say, $100 bucks in my pocket. But, I did always carry toilet paper and perhaps a small cooler of stale sandwiches and sodas. I traveled alone and usually never told anyone I was going.

I once hauled 9 kayaks tied to a trailer. I stopped for gas in El Rosario around dusk. Two hundred miles down the road I had to answer the call of nature in the desert. I did a count and realized…1, 2, 3, 4, 5…hey what happened to the other 4 kayakas? Well, in the strong winds of the passes, they had actually been blown off the trailer when the wrapping straps I was given broke. I drove 5 hours back unsuccessfully looking for 4 of the seventeen foot kayaks in the dark.

Another time, I “volunteered” to help a friend drive down a 24 foot sportfisher with tuna tower. Only problem was that the tuna tower was so tall it wouldn’t go under most standard phone or power wires.

I ended up spending most of that trip riding down the highway hig up in a tuna tower with a big broomstick. As we approached wires, we’d slow down and I’d push the wires up high enough for us to get under. Amazing that I wasn’t fried at one point.

As a postscript when we arrived in Bahia Concepcion, my work was done. It was dark. I climbed into the truck and went to sleep. Others put the boat in the water. Unfortunately, no one secured the anchor line and in the dark the boat floated off and out of the bay. Adios…Rumor has it alcohol was involved! Oh no!

Another time, in the dark, I did run out’ve gas. It was too late to walk back to the town I had passed a ways back or hitch hike so I set up camp in the rocks in a shallow arroyo. I could hear a lot of coyotes that night.

Early in the morning, I woke with a scream and a sore head! Rubbing my noggin, there were teeth marks in the side of the nylon backpack tent I was using right where my head had been. Peering out the screen two coyotes were scampering down the arroyo in the early morning light. Danged things actually drew a little blood off my scalp. I guess I should have had it checked out but since I’d never heard of anyone getting sick from a coyote bite, I let it pass.

I could go on and on. The point is, there’s still a lot of adventure in the Baja. But make some plans. Going off half –cocked like I used to do only invites trouble. I get all kinds of e-mails from readers asking for advice on driving the Baja.

Do some research. Hit the internet. Hit a bookstore. Gene Kira (“The Baja Catch”) has an incredible book about driving the Baja as do several other writers. Be prepared. A little research time can be the difference between an adventure and a crisis. As good as it can be, the Baja can still be very unforgiving to the negligent.

So many times when confronted by a problem, I caught myself saying, “If only…” I was just lucky and it was a different time.

That’s my story. If you ever want to reach me, my e-mail is riplipboy@aol.com.