by Mary (Lockwood) Branin
On Friday, February l6, 2001 we drove to the home of daughter, Marie, for dinner, overnight accommodation and breakfast. Her friend, Pete Hartness, arrived at 8 am on Saturday morning. He would be our tour driver with his Chevy, Tahoe. The Tahoe was extremely comfortable and we found room to stow the gear for all four of us inside the vehicle.
We left at 8:30 and after a stop at Albertson’s for ice we headed south on Freeway 805. Before crossing the border we bought Mexican auto insurance at $197 for full coverage for six days. Across the border we went to the immigration (Migracion) office and obtained forms for our visa. This is required if one is staying more than 72 hours or going further South than Ensenada. We were doing both. We took the forms to the bank, two doors away, paid $20 each and went back to immigration to have the forms stamped. Now we are legal.
On Hwy 1 we went through three tollgates at $2.20 each time. By 10:30 am Pete pulled off at a roadside rest. With a short walk up a hill we came to stucco structures painted a bright blue, yellow and pink. The patio here used to hold vending machines but now only the toilet rooms remain open. The long views of the coast were worth the stop.
As we passed through small towns we started looking for a park to eat lunch. We found what we wanted at Colonet and unloaded enough gear to get to the picnic supplies. When we noticed that items were getting wet, we found the drain plug to the ice chest was missing. Pete made one by using tape and a twig from a nearby tree. About 8 boys were shooting baskets at a nearby court.
Marie had provided lunch supplies that included bread, bagels, summer sausage, cheese, pasta salad, vegies and fruit. We had all brought jugs of water, boxes of juice and toilet paper. The sky was overcast and it was quite chilly. Fortunately the rest of our days were warm and sunny. Back on the highway we stopped in El Rosario and added $20 worth of gasoline to the tank. The toilet in the Ladies room was out of order. The cleaning lady explained that paper had been put into the bowl. In Mexico the sewer system can not take care of paper so toilet paper must be put into a box or basket provided next to each toilet. We women took over the Men’s room in our emergency.
Near Catavinia we stopped to view cave paintings. An Indian was standing outside the cave, high up the side of the hill. He said he was the guide and wanted $2 each to view the caves. Marie balked at that since she had been here before with no guide and knew the way. The paintings were primitive drawings of stick figures, the sun, birds and animals. Herman paid the Indian the $8 but we wondered if he really had a right to be collecting this fee. Along the highway we noticed signs “no tire basura” that means, “don’t throw trash”. The area around the sign was usually as littered, or more so, as any other roadside.
After 299 miles of driving Pete turned off the road at Catavinia and picked a camp spot in the Santa Inez Campground, unloaded the car, set up tents and arranged firewood. At the restaurant in the campground we found a Mexican Combination Plate for $5 each. I wanted a glass of water but caught myself in time and ordered coffee. The camp fee was also $5. The camp had a generator running that continued until 9pm. I was in the Ladies’ Banos at the moment and was suddenly left in the dark. We were all in bed by 9:30pm.
When I woke Sunday morning Marie was already fixing coffee on her camp stove. She has very compact supplies as she uses them when in her kayak. She and Pete each had brought along roll-up tables. We had juice, cold cereal with milk and bananas. We loaded the car and continued South on Hwy 1. A little South of Rosarito we spotted some ponds. Pete announced “driver needs a break” and turned onto a dirt track. He drove around rocks and brush to a spot near the ponds. Here there was some bird life. Marie found a bone that appeared to be from the leg of a steer. She searched further and found the carcass with head attached. She wanted a skull with horns to place in her patio at home. Herm wrestled the head loose, a smelly job. Mary offered a large Sears plastic bag. Pete tried to tie the skull on the roof but decided the wind would tear the bag to bits. He found just the right spot on the trailer hitch and fastened the package with a bungee cord.
We traveled on through desert terrain. Marie pointed out the Cirio plants, a Mexican candlewood. It is a tall column with tufts of growth on top and short branches up and down the trunk. The Cardon cactus was very plentiful. Ocotillo plants were just starting their bloom. During our travel we found sand verbena, prickle poppy, lupine, desert mallow and many flowers we could not identify.
We turned into Guerrero Negro and cruised down the main street to a gasoline station. It took $49 to fill the tank. We lost track of the figures as we transposed liters to gallons and pesos to dollars. Pete felt he was probably being overcharged but we accepted the attendant’s figures. There were osprey nests on top of several power poles. As we left this town we crossed from Baja California Norte into Baja California Sur. Officials charged a fee of $1.25 to spray our tires with insecticide after suggesting Pete close the windows. We saw them laughing at our steer skull on the back bumper. We heard comments of “loco gringos”. We were now on Mountain Standard Time but didn’t change our watches. At the border there was a tall structure of a symbolic eagle.
After 233 miles and four hours of driving we pulled into San Ignacio. We proceeded to a campground in a large Date Palm grove. On crude tables were spread dates to dry. We picked a spot at the edge of a small cove at the river edge and set up the tents and kitchen gear. The outhouse here was a pit toilet. The door was hung on coils of bailing wire with a shoelace looped over a nail for the closure. There was a box for used toilet paper even at this primitive facility. A couple of coots circled around in our cove. Cormorants and egrets flew up and down the river. The camp fee was $5 paid to the host when he came to call at our campsite.
A cute young woman on a bicycle rode up to ask about the camp procedure. She told us she was from White Horse, Canada. She flew to San Diego and on to Tijuana. From there she was riding her bike the length of the Baja peninsula and would get a flight at La Paz, back to Canada. We remembered passing her on the highway our first day of driving. She was able to catch up to us by getting a ride in a truck. She would be getting a tour out to the San Ignacio Lagoon next day and then staying at a local hotel. She pitched her tent among the palms, not far from our campsite.
We had some lunch and drove into town to the central plaza. We could not go inside the Old Church as services were in progress. The day was warm and muggy. We found a place to buy ice for $.50 and bought some firewood at the local hotel. For dinner we walked across the road from camp. I ordered a fish soup and a margarita—you can’t trust the water, you know. We enjoyed the campfire before getting into our sleeping bags.
After breakfast and coffee in camp we packed up and went back into town. We found the church and museum both open and toured both. The museum had re-creations of cave paintings, some arrowheads and seashells. We then headed to the Lagoon. The pavement soon gave way to a dirt track. At first it was smooth and well graded but it soon deteriorated to a washboard rocky trail. Pete did a great job of picking the least rocky sections, even driving up on the sandy berm. I asked why he put his car through this torture but he assured me the Tahoe was designed for all terrain. It proved a great asset to have four-wheel drive.
We arrived at the Kuyima camp just in time to join a group going out on the pangas. Marie had reserved this 2-1/2 hour ride to view the whales for $30 each plus a $10 tip from our group. We were provided with life jackets and given a quick run down of the rules. The boats can only approach the whales to within a prescribed distance but there is no rule prohibiting the whales from coming up to the boat. The pilot waded in the water, pushing the boat out until he reached water deep enough to start the motor. What a thrill to watch for the telltale spouts indicating whales in the area. We were soon seeing the huge animals surfacing, rolling over, breaching and sky-hopping (leaping nose first out of the water). The babies could be distinguished from the mommas by their somewhat smaller size. It was great to see so many whales circling the boats. I remarked that it would be better if we could actually touch them. In a very short time the boat maneuvered so I could reach over the side of the boat as the whale surfaced and feel the skin. I wondered if the pilot heard my remark and drew a little closer than was really allowed. It was a beautiful sunny day with enough breeze to keep comfortably cool.
As we arrived back at the camp the tide had dropped so much we had to debark and wade across rocky shells to the landing. I was so glad Marie had loaned me a pair of her boots. The ones who removed their shoes found the shallow wading uncomfortably sharp.
In the office/dining hall we ordered the only thing on the menu, Carne Asada at $7 each for lunch with coke or beer at $2 a bottle. This camp advertises hot showers. We learned the shower stalls have hooks to hold shower bags filled with hot water that can be obtained at the office. This was our first chance to shower. As our lunch was a hot meal we made supper from the picnic supplies. We had lain wood for a fire. In looking for rocks to prepare a fire ring Pete found a scorpion under one of the rocks. He watched it skitter off into the brush. About the time the sun had dropped we had strong winds coming off the lagoon. This continued all night, making enough noise with pounding surf and flapping tents to disturb sleep.
It was still blowing so hard Tuesday morning that we just packed up everything and made our way back into the town of San Ignacio. Along the rutted road we met a car traveling with one tire missing. He was driving on a rim. At Rene’s Restaurant we bought breakfast. I had scrambled eggs with chorizo (Mexican sausage).
We went back up Highway 1 to Viscaino where we purchased gasoline at $33 and replenished the supply of beer. At Rosarito about 45 miles north of Guerrero Negro we turned East to cross Baja. This was a dirt road so the going was slow. We stopped for a juice break and to rest the driver. I found my old bones really stiffen up sitting in the car so long. The cactus was especially beautiful through this area. Pete found the turn off to take us to the Mission San Borja. Three Mexican children, a girl aged 7 and boys aged 10 and 12 came up to the car as we parked at the mission. They were our tour guides as we went into the church. Jesuit Fathers, thanks to a donation made by Lady Maria de Borja founded this mission in 1762. It was closed in 1821 due to the disappearance of the native Indians. In a hazardous and deteriorated state it is now being restored. We made lunch under the palmetto-covered roof in the picnic area. The children stayed with us and practiced their English while Marie practiced her Spanish. She learned they have school in their home. The priest lives down the road and also works on the restoration. Father and an older boy were working on a vegetable garden. Mother was doing laundry. The family offered to show us some cliff paintings but we decided to proceed on our own.
A short way before joining the eastern highway we turned onto another dirt track and found the cliff paintings Pete and Marie had found on an earlier trip. We then went on to Bahia de Los Angeles to camp in front of the motel and restaurant at Guillermo’s. Pete and Marie set up while we fixed our beds in the back of the car. On either side of this small bay were launching ramps with fishing boats coming and going. We went to the restaurant for dinner at 165 pesos or $18.30 for our group. The toilet and shower room here was next to the restaurant. To get water across this building they had laid a hose with a poor connection. It was continually leaking which created waterfalls down the tile walls. The floor was awash and the water pressure was too low for showers.
Wednesday morning I woke at 5:30 am. I took my camera and found a chair in the patio overlooking the harbor. Pete found me there and brought cups of coffee from the restaurant. Marie and Herman joined us as did Herman Hill, a local. He is a gringo who has been in the area for 20 years doing some mining. He has been involved in setting up the mining displays at the local museum. He told us he likes to chase women but they are too fast for him now they have skate boards. I suggested he obtain a skateboard but he said he was afraid of heights. He reported the town site had originally been south of here. He said the town has installed fireplugs but there is no water for them.
The host said “no charge” for the coffee. After our camp breakfast we drove south to look over the original town site. We found cabins and a little harbor at Camp Gecko. A visitor there said cabins rent for $20 per night. We had paid $16 to camp. Back in town we found the museum open so took a look at the exhibits before starting off on the drive from LA Bay (gringo name) to San Quintin, 177 miles. We drove to the Cielito Lindo motel and campground. Pete drove us along the inner bay and outer bay, along the hard packed sand at the shore. The waves were breaking out in the bay and the wind was sending spray up high. We could not see a solid way back to the track until we circled the hotel. When we got our camp set up it was too early for dinner so we walked back to the beach looking for shells. There were many unbroken sand dollars. The wind made walking unpleasant.
The restaurant offered “the best cracked crab dinner” so Marie and I picked that for our entrée. We all chose salad to begin. Pete had a combination plate while Herman had an enchilada and a taco. Marie and I had margaritas. Two Mexicans with guitars offered music. Marie asked for “El Rancho Grande” and tipped them $5. We went back to camp and sat around the campfire until 9 p.m. Bed sounds so good after a hard day. We do try to stay up until 9 p.m.
We ate breakfast in camp but got coffee from a stand in the patio. We then rode to Estero Beach where we visited the museum with Mayan, Olmec and Aztec pottery and artifacts. At the hotel we sat in the patio for lunch. Herm and I had the best hamburgers at $4 each. The restroom facilities here were very modern and clean but the water supply was turned off. It was a very sunny day again. We made one stop in Ensenada so Marie could try to buy a hat for her pottery Mexican. Hers had been broken but they did not want to sell just a hat, as nobody would buy the left over Mexican without a hat.
Just north of Ensenada Pete left Highway 1 and took us on Highway 3 that wound through the Guadalupe Valley. There were many fields of grapevines as this is a wine producing area. We stopped at the Old Russian settlement museum. The docent gave the talk in Spanish but Marie could interpret most of it for us. We were seeing dark clouds as we continued on to Tecate and the border crossing. We must have looked innocent as Mexican and USA officials passed us through. We arrived back at Marie’s home at 4 p.m. After unloading the car and stowing our gear in our car we left San Diego at 4:20 p.m. At the point Freeway 805 joins 163 we saw warnings of a wreck at Mira Mesa connection. We saw a crane lifting a semi off the concrete berm on the HOV lane. This explains why we could not use the HOV lane to drive north. It took twenty minutes to drive three miles but we were home safe and sound by 5:30 p.m. What an unforgetable experience!