Oct 21 - Oct 27 : San Felipe, San Ignacio, Mulegé, Bahía de Concepción, Loreto (waiting for a green light)
/SAN FELIPE (AKA THE SURFACE OF THE SUN)
On the last trip through Mexico we spent a few nights camped in the company of Eric and Brittany (and Caspian) of Hourless Life while we were in Isla Aguada, Campeche. We really appreciated their company, and through their travels they have cultivated both wisdom and knowledge, some of which they shared with us. Some lessons were direct and illuminative. For instance, if you designate one side of your rig as dirty and one as clean you can develop a flow of gear, which was a way of teaching us that organization is important. Some lessons were unspoken or implied. For instance, Eric’s reaction of laughter when we explained to him that we packed a stove that we couldn’t get fuel for, meaning we essentially had no way to cook or boil water, was a way of teaching us that we should have packed a proper kitchen. Some lessons were incredibly basic and yet so valuable, like checking weather every morning. Eric was on top of his weather forecasts, and his family’s route and even their angle of parking each night was dictated by staying in pockets of comfortable temperatures or which way the wind was going to be blowing. I reflected on this lesson that had obviously gone unlearnt as I drove my family out of the comfortable 70F temps of the Pacific coast and directly into 109F, surface-of-the-sun heat that was the Mexico 3 highway from Ensenada to San Felipe in mid October.
We blew past some of our prior stops, including Mike’s Sky Rancho, just trying our hardest to make it to San Felipe, where we were hoping it would cool off. We were incorrect, and the late afternoon sun roasted the van as we looked for a cheap place to stay. San Felipe is the northern end of the Sea of Cortez, and what should have been a brackish ecosystem where the Colorado river delta meets the sea was instead a barren field of dirty, dusty salt. The camps on the northern end of San Felipe didn’t appeal to us, as they were expensive and smelled like a dying ocean, so we headed south and found a small parking lot advertising camping, beach access, and showers. We tucked into the shade of a concrete brick wall, and melted out of the van and into the sea. Gracie was too hot to cause trouble, and so were the property’s dogs. We eventually learned that the “campground” was actually just the driveway of the owner’s in-laws, and while we felt safe, we also felt very on display, but we had paid the nice man nearly $30USD, so we weren’t going anywhere.
The next day we continued our attempt to escape the sun, a mostly impossible task in central Baja as there are beautiful mountains and beautiful cacti but not a lot of shade. We drove through Santa Rosalia almost by reflex - we had no desire to stop, but we couldn’t just drive past a place where we had made a memory and not look. The weather forecasted for the pacific side of the peninsula was much better than the east side, and the road was headed for Guerrero Negro, so we decided to make a pit stop there for some mariscos (seafood), in this case some ceviche tostadas and a pulpo cocktail. In the shade we gathered our wits, and decided to head to a favorite freshwater oasis, San Ignacio, for what would hopefully be a few days of comfortable weather and easy camping.
San Ignacio didn’t disappoint. We stopped first at the campground at the lagoon that we had visited six years prior. Some of our favorite photos of all time were taken there, with Chelsea’s late cat (turned poltergeist that has partially taken residence in Gracie because Gracie is somehow part cat) Loulou. We took some more great photos, continuing the trend because it’s easy to continue that trend at that campsite. We swam in a lagoon that was less clear than I remembered, made some delicious breakfast with some of Ricky’s thick cut, homemade peppered bacon and our Idaho neighbor’s homemade peach jam, and drove into town for snacks and WiFi at a cafe. We also found a cool little ice cream shop that had obviously been found many times before as evidenced by the volume of traveler and race team stickers on the outside. If you get a chance, visit Edson’s in the main square, they’ve got heaps of character and much more than just ice cream. The lagoon in San Ignacio is surrounded by date palms, so I recommend getting date anything while you are there.
We ended up switching campgrounds to a spot much closer to town that had ripping fast (Starlink) internet and really nice bathrooms. Everyone was happy: there was a giant lawn perfect for long disc throws for Gracie, shade of us all, room to do some yoga workouts, and a slight breeze in the shade to cool us all down. The only downside was that I left another one of Gracie’s discs at the original lagoon campground, and I had to run (yes run, it was an emergency) a mile in the heat of the day to rescue my dog’s best friend. It was worth it.
Gracie getting as close to the A/C as she could. Also, notice Chelsea’s swollen ankles, a byproduct of the steroids she’d been on for her back paired with sleeping in the passenger seat.
Dogs that were too hot to make trouble, and me checking the trans fluid level because Walter had just ahd a weird “hiccup” - more on that later.
ShaDE IN AN OVERPRICED “CAMPSOT” IN SAN FELIPE.
MAKING THE BEST OF IT WITH FRESH GUACAMOLE.
SAN IGNACIO
THE DRIVE TO BAJA SUR - SO HOT, BUT SO BEAUTIFUL.
AT THE STATE LINE, BUT THE ROAD CONTINUES.
WE HAD FOUND THE LAGOON CAMP SPOT, BUT IT WAS GATED. WHEN I FOUND A LOCAL TO ASK IF THE OWNER WAS AROUND, HE BROKE THE CHAIN FOR US, TOOK SOME MONEY, AND WALKED AWAY.
BACK AT SAN IGNACIO - NOTICE THE STUFFED GIRAfFE on the deck IN THE BOTTOM LEFT CORNER, GRACIE WAS NOT A FAN,
GOLDEN. HOUR.
CHELSEA IS A GREAT PHOTOGRAPHER BUT I THINK IT’S EASIER WHEN THE WOrLD AND THE SKY PLAY NICE. The Lagoon of SAN IGNACIO IS AN INCREDIBLY PHOTOGENIC CAMP SPOT.
COFFEE, COOKIES, AND FEELING LIKE WE’RE TRAVELING.
BREAKFAST AT SAN IGNACIO
EGGS, HOMEMADE THICK CUT PEPPERED BACON, AND TOAST WITH HOMEMADE PEACH JAM FROM our neighbor in DONNELLY, IDAHO.
GETTING SOME WIFI IN DOWNTOWN SAN IGNACIO.
THE OUTSIDE OF A COOL ICE CREAM PARLOR.
THE INSIDE OF A COOL ICE CREAM PARLOR.
ON A DINNER DATE IN THE SQUARE OF SAN IGNACIO.
GRACIE ACCOMPANIED US ON OUR DINNER DATE.
The community of San Ignacio is making efforts to recognize its traditional, pre-mission name of Kadakaaman.
At the second San Ignacio camp spot.
Shade, date palms, hot showers, and ripping fast WiFi.
Hot dogs for dinner! Street food = best food.
After San Ignacio it was on to Mulegé, another stop on the parade down memory lane. We stayed a night at what once was a campground full of travelers, and now seemed to be a retirement home for old white expats and snowbirds. When we had last been to the Huerto Don Chano RV park it was a lot more traveller and a lot less full-timer. When we got there this time most of the camp spots were obviously rented long-term, with uninhabited 5th wheels sitting shuttered, and Boston Whalers sitting trailered and ready to help over-fish the Sea of Cortez when the season got under way. Some spots had been leased and turned into casitas or full blown houses, and a handful of the established campers had chainlink fences securing their RVs, boats, and OHVs. Five o’clock came and went and no one sounded a conch to start a game of roving bocce. There were no overlanders from Europe taking refuge from their self-imposed pilgrimage, no Australians in a broken down school bus drinking away their problems. It was more evidence of change and change is neither good nor bad.
Chelsea and I went for walk down the tidal river outside the camp and watched pelicans hunt in the fading light, a sight that is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. They attack the water with such gusto and confidence, and they are not small birds. Their splashes are significant.
From Mulegé we moved on to Bahia de Concepción, and spent one terrible night camped in a beautiful place. The day had started out pretty well - we found the campground we wanted, it wasn’t overran with sprinters (yet), and we got there in the heat of the day, but were able to take refuge under our canopy and take swims in the ocean. Everything was going great…we even reconnected with some old acquaintances from the first trip, until I made the fateful decision to buy some lukewarm pizza out of the back of a minivan.
A pizzeria and bakery in town had loaded up some pizzas and drove down to the beaches to sell dinner as the sun set over the peninsula. I splurged on the last pie they had available, a loaded pepperoni and cheese, complete with a spicy mayonnaise. I immediately felt guilty, like I had taken the last opportunity to have this hot dinner, so I went around and offered some to our old artist acquaintances camped down the beach in their pristine golden 70’s Chevy van, and to the full-timers in the school bus next to us. Chelsea and I had a half pizza to satisfy us and some for left overs, and everyone was happy, until about 10pm, when Chelsea reported that nausea had set in. After a half hour of deliberating in the dark, the answer was clear: she was in for a fun night food poisoning, with little more than an overused pit toilet full of spiders, cockroaches and flies and a nearby steel trash barrel for her comfort. At least the moon was nearly full and there were dolphins playing in the bay for her to watch?
Pilfering the book swap at the campground. A lot of the books had water damage from the recent hurricane.
Sun set over the tidal river in Mulegé.
A photogenic crane in Mulegé
Pelicans in Mulegé
Seagulls, which aren’t as cool as pelicans in Mulegé. (And the splash from the pelicans in the background.)
BAHÍA DE CONCEPCIÓN
Back at the Bahia de Concepción, and walter is trying to fit in with the crowd.
Just a little seashore walk to strech out our backs and legs.
The Bahia de Concepción is part of the amazing midcoast of Baja’s sea of COrtez side.
The minivan pizza, bought from one minivan and ate at another.
The possible culprit to all of CHelsea’s woes.
Just hours before the illness set it.
Mulegé and the Bahia de Concepción were one-night stays, with Chelsea insisting on running water and a real toilet after her terrible night of food poisoning. We moved on to Loreto, making time down the peninsula on our way to La Paz to see some friends and catch the ferry. We had really liked Loreto the last time we were here, so we sought out our favorite RV park and stayed in the town. We had planned to only stay one night, until Walter the Delica developed a troubling transmission problem the next morning. He had had a couple of shifting “hiccups” here and there, low rpms, low speed, low throttle stuff. The problem that was rearing its ugly head was the same issue that we had at Gold Lake at the start of the trip, but now it wasn’t solving itself as readily as before. We doubled back to the RV park, paid for another night, and broke out the tools. Not really having any idea what I was doing, I put in a frantic call to Nomadic Van, the dealer and shop that had sold us the van. They offer a phone-a-mechanic product that lets you chat with their Delica specialist Rondo for a fee, and he pointed me in the right direction (or in a right direction). knowing that the culprit could be a throttle kick-down cable, I scoured the internet for assistance from the forums, and eventually adjusted what might be a worn out cable back into service. I am not entirely sure if solved the problem or just bought myself more time, but I certainly wouldn’t have known where to start without Rondo.
We were happy to stay in Loreto for another night, the town was preparing for Día de Los Muertos, the traditional day of the dead festivities that are more often being coupled with halloween-style parties to make for a big few days of revelry. It was a known comfort, and the town has great food and cool art and a charming square. We had been seeing some grass roots reporting out of La Paz showing some significant damage from Hurricane Norma, with videos of yachts destroyed in the harbor and coastal highways washed out or covered with sand/mud. The local authorities had even put out a message asking tourists to stay away for a few days, and the ferries that would take us to the mainland had been put on hold, anchoring out at sea to wait for the terminals to be cleared of debris. There hadn’t been an official "green light” given yet, but as the days wore on we were getting further from initial impact of the storm, and we were hoping time would heal any wounds pretty quickly. Sometimes you control the tempo of the trip, sometimes the tempo of the trip controls you, but no matter what, nothing gold can stay.
We’d been tasked by our friend Ashley in San Diego to find some pom-poms for her. This photo was our proof that we’d been successful.
Gracie meeting one of the locals.
Diagnosing in the shade.
Look at how happy I am removing van parts.
frantically googling answers on the Delica forums.
“This is overlanding…right?”
Best friends in Loreto. Not a care in the world as long as we have our disc and some scoops of food at the end of the day.
Getting an overpriced glass of wine at a touristy restaurant downtown with an underpriced serenade from some local musicians. Their performance was incredible. Truly.
Ending our night at a phenomenal hole-in-the-wall non-tourist-filled taco joint, where we discovered their specialty “Taco Yoshi”, which was a taco made from a “shell” of melted/grilled cheese.
