Posts Tagged ‘road trip’

“How We Rolled Rumbled and Stumbled”

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Road trips where you wrote you own captions and every curve there was something unexpected!

“HOW WE ROLLED RUMBLED AND STUMBLED”

Originally Published in Western Outdoor News the Week of January, 6, 2014

Driving the Baja…

There was a time not long ago when I actually had the time to drive up and down the Baja Transpeninsular Highway. Time was not “of the essence” and even with cheap flights, gas was still so cheap it was more economical to drive.

These were the days several decades before there were regular convenience stores and Pemex gas stations dotting the landscape.

Yes, the Transpeninsular was a relative Mexican engineering marvel for its day. Officially called Federal Highway 1, it was quite a feat.

Being in the U.S. we take highways for granted and few who visit Baja today remember what it was like before the highway. Even those first years after its completion in 1973 were a bit rugged.

Highway 1 dotted-dashed-scurried-and-ribboned the entire 1,000-mile length of the Baja corridor from Tijuana to Cabo San Lucas. No doubt, to have one solid-length of pavement was a vast improvement over the previous road(s) which required the abilities of a world-class off-road driver and a vehicle that was about as indestructible as an Abrams tank.

Even in its completed state, it was politely called a “highway” sporting just two lanes. Laughingly and affectionately, it was called a “leveled goat trail” by its fans who still saw it as a vast improvement.

But, the word “solid” is relative. Like so much in Mexico. “Pavement” has many meanings!

There were sometimes more detours around missing parts of pavement than actual pavement. That meant forays into the nearby desert.

Potholes stretched for miles and trying to navigate in-around-and-out of them was like trying to dash through a minefield.

Sooner or later, the odds were you’d get rocked. The Spanish word for “pothole” is “Hoyo” (OY-yo)…as in OH-no! Which is what you said as your suspension or axle suddenly groaned in agony as it slammed into crater after crater. And you hoped you still had an oil pan.

But, so many of us drove the trek regularly, and looked forward to it. It was an adventure of adventures. It was almost a rite of passage to tell someone, “Dude, I just DROVE the Baja.” You didn’t “drive TO Baja.” You didn’t “TRAVEL to Baja.”

You proclaimed your coolness and told folks, you “DROVE the Baja.” It was sorta like “riding the Banzai Pipeline.” Or “running with the bulls.” Or “scuba diving with sharks.”

Instant cred. Very high on the “neato scale.” At least a 9 in the ooh-aaa factor. A bucket list things for guys.

Yup…Us cooler dudes, “DROVE the Baja.” Back in the day, the coolest of the cool folks declared they “SURVIVED the Baja” because that was always a pre-cursor to a good story, too! Driving the Baja was one thing. “Surviving the Baja” meant that a good tale was to follow.

The “survivors” brought back great stories and tall tales of roadside frontier adventure. There were flat tires…busted fan belts and axles and green unfiltered gas bought from a guy with a 50-gallon drum and a handpump.

How about those swarming mosquitos and flies? Sunburn…hangovers…stalling in sand-filled arroyos and waking up in strange places. And what’s a good story if it didn’t include Montezuma’s revenge… a hurricane… a sandstorm or the occasional ill-advised romantic liason?

But, there were also golden gems of deserted white sand beaches and glorious crimson sunrises…mouth watering handmade roadside tacos… ferocious fish that had never seen a hook… perfect thick-lipped waves that had never been surfed…friendly warm people…icy beers and barbecued lobster eaten with fingers and campfires under carpets of stars.

And always, there was one more dirt road off the beaten path that beckoned to be explored…begged to be explored. Every adventure started with the words…”We decided to pull off the highway…” Or “We stopped in for just one small tequila…” Or, “I was eating a greasy taco and my eyes locked on this pretty girl…”

Federal One has become bigger, better and safer after all these years. There are still stretches of the wild Mexican frontier that go for miles. But, you’ll see more gas station. More convenience stores. RV parks and hotels too.

It’s just not the same anymore. You climb on a plane in the U.S. You ride the sterilized tube through the air and maybe see a bit of dessert or ocean below. You exit into an air-conditioned terminal with a thousand other people.

The biggest adventure and closest brush with danger is running the gamut of airport vendors trying to rent you a car or get you on a time-share trip.

“Free fishing trip, Senor? Just need two hours of your time for a small presentation.”

“Eh amigo, do you need a taxi?”

“Discount snorkel trip for you and your family?”

The height of your anxiety and adrenaline level is wondering if your luggage will get searched by duty inspectors at the airport.

You remember that undeclared bottle of Jack Daniels hidden in your boxer shorts. Your wife thinks they inspectors will pull out her lingerie in front of everyone. Blood pressure zooms.

Or major panic. Now that you’re through customs, you can’t find the shuttle driver who was supposed to meet you at the terminal. Whew…there he is. He was hidden behind all those other shuttle drivers!

Man, that was stressful! Gonna have a double margarita at the pool bar as soon as I dump this stuff in the room.

It’s just not the same anymore. And neither are the good stories.

“The room service didn’t have cheesecake…” is a lot different from

“Did I tell you about the time these Mexican fishermen with lobsters came to our campsite and wanted to trade for a 6 pack of Budweiser? And one guy had a guitar…and my buddy Dave pulled out a bottle of Cuervo?”

“Man…let me tell you…”

Editor’s Note: Jonathan and Jill Roldan of Tailhunter International Sportfishing (www.tailhunter-international.com) in La Paz make the Mex 1 run often. They are at their first show of the year for them, at the ISE show in Sacramento that starts Wednesday at Cal Expo, with stops in Long Beach and Del Mar on the SoCal schedule.

That’s our 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

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Website: www.tailhunter-international.com

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from USA : 626-638-3383

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“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!