Archive for the ‘driving’ Category

“Through the Looking Glass”

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The famous arch on the public pier in La Paz welcoming visitors to the “Port of Magic.”

“THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS”

Originally Published the Week of Oct. 15, 2013 in Western Outdoor News

Here in La Paz, we call the waterfront area, the Malecon. It’s the Mexican equivalent of “fisherman’s wharf” in so many ocean-front areas in the U.S. And, like it’s counterparts north of the border, the malecon is a hub of commercial and social activity.

Restaurants, stores, cantinas and tourist shops dot the area and cater to the numerous locals and tourists enjoying the mile-long stretch of beach and concrete boardwalk.

Smack dab in the middle is the city pier. At the entrance to that pier is an arch proclaiming “Bienvenidos al Puerto de Illusion” (Welcome to the Port of Magic).

I never really gave it much thought. Just another chamber-of-commerce slogan to welome tourists. Yawn. Lo que sea (whatever). A bit like U.S. towns annointing themselves the “Cucumber Capital of the World” or “The Place Where Teddy Roosevelt Went to Middle School.”

And I live and work in the “Port of Magic.” Right. OK.

And for about 10 months of the year, we are myopically focused on running our fishing business and restaurant 24/7. Boats in and out. Clients and amigos coming and going. Flights to catch and meet. Luggage and fishing gear hauled and carried. Fish to be packed and frozen.

We’re out’ve salsa. The pork ribs didn’t arrive. There’s a busted toilet. The beer truck only brought half our order. The drummer in the band is sick. Two TV’s are don’t work and we have a full house for football games.

Did I just hear a bunch of glasses shatter? What do you mean we have no tortillas tonite? Which panga just broke down? Your buddy just heatstroked and needs a doctor? No, I don’t know where you put your passport! I don’t know why the bait is so small this year. Yes, it’s OK to drink the water.

It’s crazy. It’s hectic. We’re little gerbils on a treadmill. We love our lives and are immeasurably blessed. But, after months with zero days off, we’re human.

We bump into walls. We growl at each other. Patience is thin. Sometimes our smiles aren’t as ready or as genuine as we would like. How many times can I answer, “Where are the tuna?” or “So, how come the captains don’t speak English?”

But every now and then the cosmos send down a message that gives us pause to remember where we are and what we really do.

It happened just this week. Rick was on his 2^nd trip in two years with us here at Tailhunters. He’s a fireman. He pulled me aside one evening at the restaurant. He grabbed my hand in his big paw, shook it and gave me a big brotherly-bear hug.

“Hey man, I just want to thank you for having me here, “ he said sincerely.

“Oh sure, glad you’re having a good time!” I replied somewhat generically. I was kind of in a hurry and didn’t really have a long time to chat. The restaurant was filling up and I was expecting a big load of arrivals from the airport. My anxiety was a little piqued.

“No, Jonathan, I really appreciate being here with you and Jill, “ he replied a bit quietly. He wouldn’t let go of my hand. “This place stitches my soul.”

Pause. He looked at me eye-to-eye. It slowed me down. “Stitches my soul?”

“I’m a fireman. I see a lot of things. For a few days a year, being here in Baja helps put my soul back together. For a few days on a boat and with my friends, it helps me make sense of things again. When, I’m fishing my reality is simplified down to a bit of nylon string and a bit of bait. Things start to make sense again. It’s my happy place. It helps me do what I do the rest of the year. Thanks, man.”

With that, he gave me another bear hug and let go of my hand. He grinned and went upstairs to join the rest of his amigos already into their beers.

I stood there in my own moment.

Stiches my soul. A place where things make sense again. His happy space.

It’s good to remember that this isn’t just about how many fish you catch. It’s not about “just a vacation.”

There’s often a bigger picture here. I have to remind myself that we’re especially blessed to be part of it. It’s indeed a magic place and a magic space through which we pass. Vamos al Puerto de Illusion! Find your happy place, amigos.

That’s my story

Jonathan

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Jonathan Roldan has been writing the Baja Column in Western Outdoor News since 2004. Along with his wife and fishing buddy, Jilly, they own and run the Tailhunter International Fishing Fleet in La Paz, Baja, Mexico www.tailhunter-international.com. They also run their Tailhunter Restaurant Bar on the famous La Paz malecon waterfront. If you’d like to contact him directly, his e-mail is riplipboy@tailhunter-international.com or drop by the restaurant to say hi!

______________

Jonathan Roldan’s

Tailhunter International

TAILHUNTER FISHING FLEET #1 Rated on Trip Advisor

TAILHUNTER RESTAURANT BAR #1 Rated in La Paz on Trip Advisor

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Website: www.tailhunter-international.com

U.S. Office: Box 1149, Alpine CA 91903-1149

Mexico Office: 755 Paseo Obregon, La Paz, Baja Sur, Mexico

Phones:

from USA : 626-638-3383

from Mexico: 044-612-14-17863

Tailhunter Weekly Fishing Report:

http://fishreport.jonathanroldan.com/

Tailhunter YouTube Videos:

http://www.youtube.com/user/pangapirate

“When your life finally flashes before your eyes, you will have only moments to regret all the things in life you never had the courage to try.”

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“That’s How We Rolled”

Posted in bahia de los muertos, bahia de los suenos, Baja, Baja Fishing, Baja fishing lures, Baja Life, Baja Mexico Fishing, Baja Rockfish, Cabo San Lucas, cabrilla, camping, cerralvo, cerralvo island, charters, dorado, driving, east cape, espirito santo, fish, Fishing, fishing blogs, Fishing lures, fishing packages, fishing reports, Fishing Tackle and Techniques, Fishing techniques, fishing tips, fishing tournaments, fishing trips, fishing videos, flyfishing, freediving, giant squid, Heat stroke, holidays in mexico, humboldt squid, inshore fishing, inshore fishing in Baja Mexico, jack crevalle, Jonathan Roldan, kids, kids fishing, La Paz, La Paz Fishing, la ventana, las arenas, Leisure, light tackle, Living in Mexico, marlin, Mexican, Mexican business, Mexican culture, Mexico, Mexico economy, Mexico life, Mexico neighborhood, outfitters, packages, packing fish, panga, Panga Fishing, pargo, pompano, road trip, roosterfish, Salt Water Fishing, Salt water lures, Sea of Cortez, sierra, spearfishing, sportfishing, squid fishing, Sun stroke, Tailhunter International, techniques, tourism, tours, transpeninsular highway, Travel, trolling tips, tuna, Uncategorized, vacations, wahoo, Western Outdoor News, Western Outdoor Publications, women fishing, yellowtail, tagged amberjack, baja, Cabo San Lucas, cabrilla, cerralvo, charters, dog tooth, dorado, east cape, ensenada, espirito santo, family, fish, Fishing, fishing video, flyfishing, freediving, girls, guerro negro, highway, jack crevalle, Jonathan Roldan, kid, kids, La Paz, las arenas, lifestyle, light tackle, marlin, mexican, mexico, outfitters, packages, pargo, road trip, roads, roosterfish, sailfish, salt water, sea of cortez, sierra, snapper, spearfishing, sportfishing, Tailhunter International, techniques, tijuana, tips, tours, transpeninsula highway, travel, trips, tuna, vacations, wahoo, women, yellowail on September 30, 2013| 1 Comment »

“That’s How We Rolled”

Originally Published the Week of October 2, 2013 in Western Outdoor News

You can always tell when people think you’re a knucklehead. Their voice goes up at the end of their sentence. Try it.

“You’re going… SKYDIVING?”

“You ate …SUSHI?”

“You’re going to school in…THAT ?

“You went to Vegas and did… WHAT?”

And my favorite:

“You’re going to drive to…MEXICO?”

Followed by the leave-no-doubt-affirmation:

“Are you a knucklehead, or what?”

Love the, “Or what” part.

To true Baja rats, “driving the Baja” evokes some great sensorial memories. Having taken the wheel several dozen times from border-to-tip and back, to me, the drives were truly an adventure back in the day.

Once you passed the border checkpoint, you could just feel that you had left everything unimportant behind. Back there…back with freeways and office buildings…crowds and social vampires sucking out your essence.

Now you were in “the Baja.”

Cassettes or 8-track cartridges littered the inside of the truck. Jackson Brown or the Eagles eased me down the highway and my dog cocked an eyebrow every time I hit a s sloppy high note. Generally, he was more interested in the bag of Doritos on my lap while I sipped out of a real Coke bottle picked up at a roadside Mexican mercadito. “I’ve got 7 women on my mind…”

Stashed among my fishing, diving and camping gear were cans of motor oil, rope, duct tape, gas can, flashlights, ice chest, tarp, flares, two extra tires, a shovel, extra hoses and, the most important thing…toilet paper! “Well, I’m standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona, I’m such a fine site to see…”

You prepared for the worst. You hoped for the best. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

And everything including me, powdered with a good layer of Baja dust. On the dashboard. On the seats. On my lips. On the dog. The grit of La Frontera “It’s a girl my Lord in a flatbed Ford…”

You got there when you got there. If your head was right, you realized that you’re south of the border so you’re already there. No stress, Dude. Already there.

You stopped when you stopped. Slept in the truck, pitched a tent or paid a few bucks for a room with a single lightbulb and a great taco stand out front with plastic seats and a smiling senora searing chunks of beef and spooning up salsa to die for.

You had a general idea of where you needed to be but often a side road beckoned to a deserted beach or spectacular vista. Sometimes the side road was a necessity. You had no choice as parts of the highway simply weren’t there. Washed out or under construction. Potholes the size of your car. Rocks and goats. Cows and arroyos. You got used to the word, “Desviacion” (Detour) posted on a makeshift sign.

Time was measured by the sun coming up and the sun going down and the growl in your tummy or the thirst in your mouth. The sun gave no quarter.

Gas was sold by a guy with a hand pump and a 55-gallon drum. You strained it through a t-shirt and were grateful it was available. You didn’t argue about the price. No, he didn’t offer to wash your window or check under the hood.

You drove as fast or as slow as you dared. There were no shoulders. Wrecks could be seen at the bottom or deep canyons where other intrepid vehicle before you didn’t make the turn. Trucks coming the opposite way came close enough to see the color of the other drive’s eyes. Your fingers always tightened on the steering wheel reflexively. And eased as you continued past. You also stopped holding your breath.

And that’s how we rolled back in the day. The trip WAS the destination. It was the whole point…being on the road. Whether you reached your destination was almost secondary. You KNEW you’d be seeing gorgeous beaches and incredible mountains. You were going to eat some great street food and make new friends along the way. Every day was going to be it’s own “Kodak moment!”

But now…fast forward in the time machine.

There’s now pretty much a super highway from border to tip. Mostly four-lanes of good highway. And there’s mini-super markets along the way. And actual gas stations with real pumps. The Mexican government has “green angels” driving up and down the peninsula checking for and offering mechanical aid to tourist cards that might have problems along the way. In the major towns, you’ll find the golden arches and the colonel from Kentucky smiles down from his red and white bucket .

Chain hotels dot the landscape and if that’s not your style actual developed campgrounds beckon your stay. Police along the way greet you with smiles and are instructed in “tourism sensitivity.” “Tenga un buen viaje senor. Bienvenidos a Baja.” (Have a great trip and welcome to Baja, Sir!”)

Car parts? If you need them, Walmart and Auto Zone are here now.

It’s just the way it is now …for better or worse.

But, in between all of that, there’s still adventure. There are still deserted white beaches and aqua waters. Somewhere along the way is a palm tree next to a palapa with a hammock waiting. Just for you. And you know it as you tool down the road. You have no doubt.

And, the only snow you see will be in your ice chest or in a margarita glass. Shoes not optional. Shoes are discouraged!

“You’re going to…MEXICO?”

“Yea, I’m going to Mexico. And I’m driving. Don’t be a knucklehead. Come with me!”

And the DVD player kicks in…”Take it Easy…”

Let’s roll.

That’s my story!