What you really need in the desert is shade; most of your living can be outside, you just need protection from the sun.
This is on land of Kathleen Martin and Gary Brown on the Cabo de Este, near Shipwrecks.
What you really need in the desert is shade; most of your living can be outside, you just need protection from the sun.
This is on land of Kathleen Martin and Gary Brown on the Cabo de Este, near Shipwrecks.
Many Mexicans believe that the DEA has supplied guns to the cartels.
Check out “Operation Fast and Furious” on Wikipedia or Google, a failed DEA attempt to track which resulted in drug dealers getting guns.
To many Mexicans the DEA is the biggest cartel in Mexico.
Three guys were fishing, two jumped out, and this guy went back out, waited for the right swell, then gunned it.
They then pulled in farther with a Datsun truck.
Angel Robles has his exquisitely beaded Huichol art at his table in the San Jose del Cabo plaza on weekends.
I wonder if the bracelet I bought could qualify me in a cross-cultural way as a Swifty. Which is OK with me.
Somewhere in Baja this morning (post written on February 6).
This is not me; in fact my first time out in three years was hardly successful last night; one prone ride and feeling pretty tired from being out of shape.
Had great swim with goggles this morning, water 73 degrees.
Meeting totally great people, Mexicans and gringos, all tuned into the natural world, especially the sea.
One of my most important rules of the road is to ask someone where’s a good place to eat. I asked guy in gas station in Ciudad Constitución, he thought for a minute, and said “Tacos Santana.” Easy to remember.
Sure enough, it was run by a sisterhood of strong competent friendly women. Was great to watch them work and interact with each other and customers.
My total bill for two delicious tacos de maiz al pastor, a large horchata (rice/almond drink), and a tootsie roll for desert, was under $7. I mean, it was a completely satisfactory dinner for some one who’s been sitting for four days.
In the USA, when I find myself in a nondescript, not obviously cool town, I ask where’s the best hamburger.
If I put up a good post, should I not post again for a while? I mean, I’ve got a shitpile of interesting photos stacking up. Also, I wonder if hashtags are worth the bother.
Today (Domingo), went with my good friend of 36 years Chilón and his amor, Carolina, to the very interesting town of El Triunfo for a surprise birthday party for his older son César. We had beef tacos and birthday cake under the shade of mesquite trees.
In the first photo, left to right: César’s brother Daniel, Chilón, me, and César.
I’ve known the boys since they were very young and have seen them turn into fine strong young men, much like my own boys, Will and Evan.
Many of the people here are mountain bikers and desert runners.
A few other shots around El Triunfo.
After the spectacular Cataviña desert, I spotted a lone figure in the distance. Holy shit! I’m whining about driving and here’s a cyclist braving the traffic and loneliness and inhospitable elements out in the middle of nowhere.
I pulled over and so did he and we bonded immediately. He was full of good humor.
Fujimoto Tatsuhiko had recently ridden the full length of Alaska, then from New York to LA on Highway 66 (yah!), and was on his way to Los Cabos, thence ferry to Mazatlan, south to Argentina.
So far about 10,000 miles.
The doll was his “girlfriend,” a Japanese cycling effigy.
Bike is a 7-year-old steel Surly Long Haul Tracker, which he loves. How about that, all you guys with $10K carbon fiber state-of-art bikes and hi-tech camping gear?
He has no sponsors, saves money from his job as a nurse, and then takes off.
He is from Amora, Japan.
Kinda reminded my of Armand Basset, road wanderer / buddha encountered in the Nevada outback, shown on the last page of our book Shelter.
More info by googling “Fujimoto” “Tatsuhiko” “bicycle”
It’s really unusual to hear about Baja this far back.
Hi Lloyd! My, how tasty a menu of treats your latest flyer presented Geraldine and me! You’re heading to Baja and I first flew down, with my dad piloting his trusty Cessna 180, when I was a junior in high school ~ 1954 ~ and our first stop was at Santa Rosalia for fuel which the sole attendant hand pumped from rusty 55 gal drums into our screened funnel. Dad was raised in France and his home apartment elevator was a classic engineered by Eiffel … so we were impressed to visit Eiffel’s chapel there when the French were mining … Muleje was a favorite overnight and when the prison was operating they freed the prisoners in daylight and on the honor system they returned at night. In the plaza ~ evenings ~ the boys strolled clockwise and the gals otherwise with amazing eyeballing etc. We flew to La Paz and visited, with dad’s insistence, “La Vista Hermosa” which was a whorehouse of renown … We set off for San Jose del Cabo, a tiny shrimper hamlet, and landed on a narrow strip strewn with white seashells and no other planes! We walked to the Rodrigues Posada, the only inn in town, with six, maybe eight rooms! The only gringos who visited there were occasional bill-fishers. There was absolutely NO development there nor at Cabo San Lucas … I’ve been doing Baja in my 17′ RV, a TDI VW Coupe and one winter, after the America’s Cup racing on San Francisco Bay, sailed down with the BajaHaHa cruise and hauled out and trucked home from Guaymas…
I believe we met thru ED STILES, an old buddy, or maybe HUEY JOHNSON whom I’d known in his school-teaching days in Boise before Nature Conservancy and TPL or maybe when you visited the PacNW inasmuch as I live at Rangerville … and Ranger and I went to the memorial pot-luck (Plenty POT!) for Sun Ray up Day Creek … and I know we sent you fotos of the Gnome Dome that the crew built at R’ville, in Alger!
In 1977 I homebuilt a snazzy cabin (#92) at Salmon Beach, under Point Defiance Park, Tacoma, built upon pilings in The Narrows and I’ve often wondered if you ever wandered down to Salmon Beach as it shows the creative flair of community love action.
Enjoy your adventures, Lloyd, and many thanks for catching your admirers up!
Hugs! George Jay, Rangerville in summertime, Oceanside in wintertime