2012-02-06::

Our Moto-Baja trip was extra special to both of us because for once Jenny wanted to go with me. In fact, the basic trip was her idea. I enjoyed having her along, and I think she enjoyed the trip very much.

Day 1

Feb 06, 2012: Arizona City to Nogales

Map: Day-1

Jenny writes: We were already about 90 percent packed and ready, so this morning Ray had just a few more items to pack while I drove our dog Camper to the kennels. By noon we were finished with these last jobs and were ready to depart. We checked the air pressure in the tires on the motorcycles one more time, then locked the house and wheeled out the driveway, at 12:10 pm.

Ray has been on several solo motorcycle trips, but finally I am able to join him on this short jaunt south into Mexico. I'm still a newbie, so although I'm excited about the upcoming travel, I have to admit I still get a bit nervous when I gear up. I've been practicing with Ray two or three times a week, riding the bike off-road and going for longer day trips on the pavement.

Also, I try to learn from Ray as much as I can about maintenance and repair of the bike, so I feel confident that my bike and I are ready for this trip, and I'm looking forward to the ride.

Stopping for a short break near Picacho Peak in order to photograph the poppies blooming alongside the road.

We drove the Interstate 10 Frontage Road to Red Rock, stopping for a short break near Picacho Peak in order to photograph the poppies already blooming alongside the road.

The Interstate 10 traffic did not look too bad so we decided to ride the slab for a while. Another short break at Marana, followed by a short stretch of frontage road, and then back onto the interstate through Tucson. The Tucson traffic was manageable, and soon we were southbound on Highway 19 to Nogales.

I noticed the turnoff for Madera Canyon, and thought about the hummingbirds and other migrating birds that visit this area. Just then in my peripheral vision I saw a couple of hummingbirds zing by.

Our objective for the afternoon was a motel in Nogales, which would then put us in a good position for an early departure in the morning, for the border crossing and points south. The southbound traffic became heavier the closer we got to Nogales; even the border towns, and the crossing itself, have rush hour traffic.

We took exit #4, Mariposa Road and headed for the closest hotels. The first two we looked at did not have secure parking for the motorcycles - we prefer to have a room on the ground floor, with a door that opens to the parking lot, where we can park the bikes right in front of the room, and can see them from the window. On the east side of Highway 19 we found what we were looking for. The time was 4:00 pm.

The riding today was fun, which I knew it would be; even riding the slab was ok. The motorcycles are running excellent, thanks to all the work Ray has done getting them ready. Time to go oil the chains before it gets dark.

Tomorrow morning's agenda: check air pressure, get gas and drinking water, change some dollars into pesos, and proceed the last four miles to the border crossing.

130 miles in 4 hours

Day 2

Feb 07, 2012: Nogales to Hermisillo

Map: Day-2

We were up before first light, putting on all our warm riding clothes underneath our outer riding gear because the day was quite chilly. We loaded up and drove across the street to the gas station and filled up, then set off at 7:10 am.

It was only 4 miles south on Mariposa Road to the international border. We went though two checkpoints, one U.S. and one Mexican, but there was no one at either point. And then, before we knew it, we were in Mexico, headed south for Hermisillo.

Right away we found the traffic just a bit more chaotic than in the States, and the roads were not quite as good, but they were good enough. We went through a toll booth, then a Customs checkpoint where again we rolled on through without having to stop. This is easy, I was thinking. Little did I suspect what was coming next.

We stopped at the 21 kilometer checkpoint to get our Tourist Card, and to pay our vehicle import fee. There were only a couple other people there, so the lines were pretty short. Fifteen minutes into the process, an official found a discrepancy in our paperwork. By and by, we were refused entry. Jenny's motorcycle registration had my name on it, rather than her's, and that was a no-go. It seems I couldn't import two vehicles, such where the intricacies of the regulations.

So we had to drive back across the border, waiting 45 minutes in line at the border, then another 10 miles north to the Nogales, Arizona DMV. An hour there produced Jenny's document. So we backtracked our way south to the 21 kilometer checkpoint where the officials now found our documents in order. An hour later we were on the road again, southbound. The time was now 1:00 pm, having spent the entire morning.

The scenery was quite nice, with mountains surrounding the valleys and plains through which we road. The sky was overcast with thick, high cirrus, so we didn't take very many pictures because the light was not very good. The headwinds started building in strength and eventually they were strong enough that it was a chore to stay on the road at times.

We stopped for a mid-afternoon lunch at a roadside taco stand where we found everybody very friendly. Then an hour later we stopped for gasoline. Again, everybody was friendly.

Because of the wind and the condition of the road, and the sometimes sporadic, high-speed traffic, I think that the afternoon was about twice as hard as anything I've ridden in the States. Mainly because of an hour-long stretch of road with a drop-off on the edge of the pavement due to construction. The drop-off averaged 2-feet and sometimes much deeper. And combined with the wind trying to blow us off the road, it was an enjoyable ride but anything but relaxing. :)

Jenny writes: The ride today was challenging for me, as Ray has described, but the scenery provided welcome relief. There were range after range of high mountains to the east, and lower ones to the wet. Unfortunately, the roadway offered no tourist pull-outs for taking photos. Closer at hand the valleys and hills were covered in trees - oaks, perhaps - turning green with the coming Spring.

Once we were south of the road construction, the going seemed to be easier, along with the wind diminishing somewhat. It was great fun to watch the kilometer posts count down so quickly to Hermosillo.

We pulled in to Hermisillo at 5:00 pm and got a room at the Hotel San Carlos.

Day 3

Feb 08, 2012: Hermisillo to Navojoa

Map: Day-3

As we made our way through Hermosillo, a local in his pickup truck pulled alongside in the next lane over, and pointed left in a friendly, helpful manner. We still had about a half a mile to go before our left turn back onto Mex 15, but I knew what he was getting at. The regular left turn was blocked up head, and he was directing me to a detour. I gave him a big wave in appreciation. Then we turned left at the next intersection, and sure enough, that was the detour, even though it was not marked.

It is kind of mind-boggling that people are sometimes helpful to strangers, yes - even helpful to gringos. So different from the usual way people treat each other where we're from. The contrast makes you think.

Jenny writes: Today I had great fun discovering that the bridges (los puentes) have names. As we crossed a short bridge there was a sign that read "Puente El Ocelot." A few kilometers later was "Puente La Iguana." And then "Puente El Tigre." The old Mex 15 is gradually getting modernized: repaired, repaved, and widened, but despite the modernization, I think it's typically Mexican that the bridges have names like these.

A helmet camera (for both still shots and video) would be such a good thing to have on a trip like this. Picture this: up ahead off to the side of the road, is a young man on a bicycle. Slung over his shoulder is a guitar. Behind the bicycle seat is a milk crate for carrying items. Seated in the milk crate is a cute and obviously happy puppy, watching the world go by.

Getting through Ciudad Obregon was one of those grit-your-teeth and go with the flow type experiences. Buses, trucks, diesel fumes, kids darting across the street, cars merging from both right and left, traffic lights, speed bumps, rain puddles, a dead rabbit, and all the while keep an eye on the road signs and don't miss our turn to Navojoa. Amongst all this we passed a truck stacked with medium-sized livestock pens, 5 pens high and 8 deep. And in each pen was a pink, fat hog. I was going to tell Ray to "Look at that!" but there was no need to say it - you couldn't help but notice it. We realized that the hogs were most likely on their way to the slaughterhouse. At least they had a nice, open-air ride.

I am finally getting the hang of the toll booth stops. In a car you can take your hands off the wheel and get your coins ready as you approach, but not so on a moto. My technique, which is a long way from perfect, is to pull up behind the car in front of you, put the moto in neutral so you can then quickly pull off your gloves while you are stopped behind that car. The longer the car in front of you is there, the better off you are because it gives you time to flip up your helmet visor and zip down the jacket pocket that contains the small pesos bills and coins. Then duck-walk the bike up close to the person in the toll booth so you can hear how much your toll is, let them know you want to pay "por dos motos" and then with minimal fumbling, hand over the amount, take back the change and the receipt, stuff it all back in the jacket pocket, zip the pocket shut, kick the moto back into 1st, and when the toll gate swings up, move on through. Of course, you then have to pull over to the side of the road to pull your gloves back on and make sure the pocket is zipped. I'll have it wired in another couple weeks.

Back to Ray: I'm really enjoying this trip, and today was the best day ever. Good riding, not much high winds, and yes, a lot of rain, but on the moto it doesn't bother me much. And lots of friendly people, every time we stop. But mostly it's the adventure; traveling away from home and enjoying it all. It's not always easy, but if it's too easy for me I tend to loose interest. I like at least a little bit of challenge. For me, this time, it's a challenge of riding a motorcycle in a Third World country. I'm finding I like it very much.

Day 4

Feb 09, 2012: Navojoa to La Paz

Map: Day-4

The weather forecast for today was for chubascos and tormentas, so we started riding at 9:00 am even though we had less than 100 miles to ride to the ferry terminal. What we were going to do the rest of the day in stormy weather, we hadn't a clue.

The rain squalls ("tormentas y chubascos") of the previous afternoon had dispersed overnight, and we rode off into a beautiful, clear, clean, and fresh day. We liked the ambiance of Navojoa, it was much cleaner and quieter than the larger towns to the north.

We pulled off the road for some cold drinks and snacks at a Oxxo store (Mexico's version of a Circle k or a 7-11). I backed into a parking spot next to the building and here I did something that I would never even dream of doing 40 years ago. I backed into the parking space right next to a policeman who was carrying an assault rifle. But today I felt no fear from the police, in fact, quite a bit safer. No one would dare take anything off the bike in front of a policeman with an assault rifle. Stepping off the bike I nodded a greeting to the officer and proceeded into the store.

Back outside, Jenny and I were eating our snacks and I got the feeling the officer was friendly, so I struck up a conversation in my crude Spanish and lo and behold the officer was very friendly. We talked for 15 minutes. Forty years ago, people feared the police because they were much more likely to be corrupt, and likely to pin a bogus charge on anyone, whether Mexican or foreign. But times have changed for the better.

We continued on south westward toward the sea. The road had been cut dramatically through the coastal mountains, and from the highest point we could see the flat coastal agricultural area. Fields after fields of corn, sorghum, sugar cane, potatoes, and possible tomatoes and other produce.

We rolled in to Los Mochis and a scene much like that of Ciudad Obregon, with chaotic traffic. After a few miles of this we left the city behind and enjoyed the riding to the port of Topolobampo, and the ferry terminal. We were there half a day early and wondering what to do, so first we stopped at a marina and sat down by water at a boat docks. We talked to a fellow who turned out to be the bartender at the yacht club. He invited us in, but we were just leaving. Jenny had her helmet on and I was talking to him for a couple minutes; he suddenly realized that Jenny was a woman, and he did a double-take. All along the way we've had several compliments that we're riding together, two bikes, a husband and wife team; somewhat unusual.

We spent the next several hours doing what we enjoy the best, riding the bikes. This time north east toward the mountains. We thought we would start up toward Copper Canyon, but the mountains were too distant for a comfortable afternoon ride, so eventually we turned back.

Back at the ferry terminal we got our tickets, although we had previously paid for them online. Darkness came, and more trucks and autos and passengers arrived. They put us and our two motos at the start of the short passenger line, directly in front of a family from La Paz. The family wanted to pose the three children in front of our motorcycles for a picture on their camera, so Jenny draped our riding jackets over the youngsters and they were so pleased.

Then the army started arriving, each soldier dressed in fatigues and carrying an assault rifle. Initially they were quite aloof, they wouldn't even look at anyone. But again, we were not worried about them. More and more arrived, until there were a few hundred troops. They were all boarding the same ferry. By and by,one fellow strolled by and struck up a conversation with us. Lo and behold, this fellow was quite friendly without letting up his professional guard. He was from Vera Cruz, and he said it was very safe there. He has been in the army for 7 years, and I asked him about the dangers surrounding the drug problems, and he said very dangerous, the danger is real. He said there are only 3 areas in Mexico that are safe: Baja, Vera Cruz, and somewhere else I can't recall.

Jenny was feeling a little ill from what she had eaten a short while ago, so I left her sitting on the curb by the motos, and wandered around the short vicinity while waiting for the ferry to arrive. I got to talking with a husband and wife who lived in Hermosillo. Like most Mexicans we have met so far, they were extremely friendly. They are retired teachers, the husband taught mathematics and the wife taught English and they were going to visit Santa Rosalia, in Baja. The trip was gift from her father, who used to live in Santa Rosalia, and wanted them to see it.

As time went on, the ferry terminal got busier and more busier. Jenny was feeling better, so we were both talking to a fellow who parked his car right next to the bikes. He is a Mexican from Cabo San Lucas who spoke flawless English. He said he's only been in the States 4 times, but he spent his whole life in Cabo San Lucas, working in the hotel and tourist industry, and now real estate, so he learned his English from his customers and clients.

The ferry arrived, and to our complete surprise, disgorged about a hundred 18-wheeler semi trucks. I didn't count them, but that number couldn't be too far off. That ferry is a big boat. The fresh batch of trucks started loading, then we were directed to drive aboard and go to a certain place on Level 2 and park. It was a bit disturbing because there were no tie-downs, nothing to support the bikes at all. The attendant said there was no problems, the bikes are not going to tip over, the boat is very steady.

We locked our panniers and climbed the stairs up to the lounging decks with what we would be needing for the next 6 hours because you were not allowed to return to the vehicles during the voyage. Initially we set about exploring the boat, mainly the open walkways outside. The night was somewhat chilly and windy so we didn't linger very long. It was amazing how high above the water we were, looking over the guardrail.

Jenny picked out a couch in the bar area where we could lay down. There was a lot of loud music and commotion in the bar, but she was tired and soon was fast asleep. For me, the night was just beginning in this unusual place with all kinds of people, so I strolled around and went outside onto the foredeck and enjoyed the night air. Eventually I became hungry. Included in the price of the ticket, each passenger is allotted a dinner. There were about 400 passengers, and I was among the last to be served because I didn't want to wait in line, especially with long lines of soldiers.

I was eating alone at a table when the guy from Cabo San Lucas joined me with his plate of food. He introduced himself as Rudy. We sat talking for quite some while, and of course I was just full of questions, because he was a local and also spoke such good English, and obviously very intelligent. We finished our meal, then I went back to where Jenny was sleeping and she seemed to be doing fine so I went back outside to enjoy the night, and who did I meet but Rudy sitting on a bench on the afterdeck.

We spent most of the night talking, and those conversations were among the highlights of my journey thus far, because for the first time in Mexico I had a like-minded local to talk with that also spoke such good English. We talked about Life in Mexico and his life in Baja. We talked about the drug problem between Mexico and the U.S, and the immigration problem. We even discussed politics which is a subject I rarely breach. But it turns out that from our two perspectives, we discovered surprising similarities. He wanted to make clear that the problem with immigration is because, he felt, that his government was letting the people down because they are not educating the children properly, at least on par with the developed world. Then he said, as for himself, he is college-educated and has a successful real estate company with 10 employees. He made a point: don't stereotype Mexicans. He also kept stressing the rich Mexican heritage of friendliness. I've been experiencing that for 45 years, and each time I go down to Mexico I find it remarkable.

He told me a story about a profound lesson he learned from a simple bellboy in France. Rudy was at the front desk of an expensive hotel, and some Englishman was creating a scene of unhappiness, criticizing the hotel and its employees. Nevertheless, the bellhop picked up this guy's bags and carried them with a smile. The bellhop returned to the front desk and Rudy asked him how in the world was he putting up with that. Rudy said he would have liked to wring that guy's neck. The bellhop explained that it didn't bother him because that was that guy's problem, and the bellhop has a philosophy of not corrupting his day with other people's problems. He says he likes to return home happy.

We finished talking at 4:00 am, and I retuned inside to join Jenny for a few hours of sleep myself.

Day 5

Feb 10, 2012: La Paz to Ciudad Constitucion

Map: Day-5

In the morning we stood on the foredeck, watching the ferry pull into the port of Pichilingue, enjoying the fresh air and admiring the pretty Baja coastline. The immense boat maneuvered around to the dock, but it was still a long wait before we were allowed back down to Level 2 parking area.

First on, last off. That was almost the case with us, but we didn't mind. We followed the last of the autos on Level 2, and then proceeded to the first of three military inspection checkpoints. As we waited in line, the Mexican Army convoy that had been on the ferry drove past, and with each truckload of soldiers going by, we got a friendly wave or two, which we returned.

One of the inspections was quite thorough. The inspectors asked us to open our panniers and they politely shuffled through our gear. I was somewhat worried about the knife I was carrying in my tank bag, and when the inspector grabbed it, I proudly explained that I had made it. The inspector was impressed.

The waters of Baja are clear and a beautiful turquoise blue, and our first stop, once we passed the inspections, was to pull off at a beach and stroll the waterline a short ways.

The town of La Paz was choked with the usual chaotic traffic, so we did not feel like lingering, except for a stop for gas. But once out of town and on our way north, we thoroughly enjoyed the 2-lane Mexico 1 highway. This was no longer the old highway that we knew from 30 or 40 years ago, although here and there along the way we could see remnants of the old road. Now there are good, solid bridges across the washes and arroyos, and the road crews keep the potholes to a minimum. And now the small villages along the way have grown somewhat in size, and there are more small stores selling snacks and cold drinks.

After a couple hours of riding we were both feeling the fatigue of the ferry ride, so in the town of Ciudad Constitucion we found a motel (Paraiso) to stay at for the night. It was simple but cheap, and comfortable; and as a bonus, there was a Laundromat (lavandamatico) a few blocks back, so thanks to Jenny we now have clean clothes for our journey north.

Day 6

Feb 11, 2012: Ciudad Constitucion to Loreto

Map: Day-6

We took our time getting ready this morning because we didn't have far to go for today's riding plan. We set off at 11:00 am, riding the paved Mexico 1 highway through the desert.

This trip through Baja had many surprises as compared to what I had seen on past Baja trips. Ciudad Constitucion was a big surprise. On my first trip to Baja Sur in 1975 this city almost non-existent. Now it is a thriving, big town; not modern, but big. It is an agricultural center dependent on subterrainian aquifers laying deep below the surface,

The highway bypassed the next town Villa Insurgentes, then headed northeast, back to the seashore. Eventually the road passed through the mountains with fun and twisty roads and impressive, rugged mountains towering overhead. Then the road followed the coast more or less and we stopped many times to soak in the beautiful scenery.

While riding through Baja we've seen several touring motorcycles go by, heading southward, but we hadn't met anyone until today. A guy riding a souped-up KLR passed us while we were stopped, then pulled a U and came over to talk. Sparky said he lived on the coast just north of La Paz somewhere, and was down here for the winter from Hood River, Oregon. He was the type of Baja offroad rider that knew every dirt road on the peninsula, probably. And there are a lot of these types of roads to explore by dirt bike. We chatted for 10 minutes, then he took off, blasting off through the gravel in a cloud of dust and as soon as he hit the pavement he pulled a 100 yard wheelie going up the steep hill.

Reaching Loreto we explored the sprawling, ramshackle town, then eventually landed at the Desert Inn Hotel, where we had stayed during our 1989 kayak trip. At first we thought the hotel had closed because it was empty. It's a big hotel on the beach, a couple hundred rooms. But we went into the lobby and the clerk said, yes, we're open, so we got a room.

The shower was cold, but at least it was wet, and we were glad to rinse off the hot sweat and road dust. We had a great, late lunch in the hotel's restaurant: combinacion plates, fit for a king and queen. The friendliness of the waitress made us feel right at home.

Jenny is amazing because she picks up languages so fast. She can now hold a basic conversation in Spanish, as long as it is very basic. Same with me.

Our hotel room was medium-sized and basic, and looked out onto the ocean. It had a TV which we don't need, and no WiFi which we could have used. But the room was very reasonable and secure. The desk clerk had assured us that the parking was quite safe. I got up in the middle of the night to check on the motos, and I saw two security guards who immediately saw me also.

So, another good day exploring Baja. The road was a lot of fun, we enjoyed the riding all along the way. And today was not too windy.

Day 7

Feb 12, 2012: Loreto to San Ignacio

Map: Day-7

Jenny writes: We were packed up and ready to roll by 8:00 am. The sky was clear, the air was cool, and the southwest wind that had intensified during the night was still blowing.

Again, the road was really nice riding, perfect for motos with lots of twisties. And beautiful scenery if one likes the desert. There were lots of interesting plants, and the surrounding mountains were steep-sided, rocky and rugged.

Soon we were back alongside the shore of Bahia Concepcion. Here there were numerous sandy beaches, pullouts, RV camping, and a few Mexican dwellings. The water along the shoreline was sparkling clear, the entire bay was idyllic.

We drove into the main part of Mulege, just to have a quick look, then continued on to Santa Rosalia.

Ray is always teaching me safe riding techniques, coaching, and giving tips, so today, when he asked me if I knew what the most common cause of motorcycle accidents is, I gave it couple seconds thought and replied, going too fast in the turns. Well, that is a common cause, but not the most common. The most common, he told me, was the failure of the nut holding the handlebars. Hmmm. For over an hour I mulled that over as we rode along. The nut... Well, if prone to failure, why aren't we checking it several times a day?

At one stop, Ray asked me to point to the nut that holds the handlebars on. Uh, you're talking about these? No, this one? And then I got it! HA! The nut holding onto the handlebars - that would be me. I laughed long and hard about that.

In Santa Rosalia we pulled off near the Port Captain's office where we had a nice view of the boat basin. It was quite picturesque and naturally our eyes were drawn to the foreign sailboats that were in port. In a couple minutes a fellow walked up to us and said he was drawn by the sound of our BMWs when we pulled up. His name was Ed and he had a Hans Christian sailboat docked here. Ed used to ride BMWs, but sold his motorcycles in order to go sailing. He said he is headed for Panama in several months. When he gets there he will decide whether to go left or right.

From Santa Rosalia the road climbed and descended and twisted through the mountains as we headed west, leaving the Sea of Cortez for the day. The slightly cold southwest wind blasted at us from the side, and at one rest stop we decided to put on another jacket underneath our riding jackets. We hoped that the farther away from the Sea of Cortez we got, the less the wind would be blowing, but that didn't seem to be the case.

At 2:00 pm we pulled into San Ignacio. On the map, the town looked like some tiny village out in the middle of the desert mountains. What the map doesn't show is that the town is built around an amazina oasis. A huge natural spring provides a beautiful haven, and the area has attracted visitors and part time residents for decades. We turned off the highway and followed the narrow road into the town of San Ignacio.

Near the old mission and the town square, a couple of motorcyclists gave us a wave. So we parked and they came over a long chat. David and Laura, from Minnesota, were on a moto tour of Baja. They had driven their truck and trailer down from Minnesota and parked it in Arizona. We compared notes about our routes, our bikes, and traveling in Baja, and they told us about the place they were staying, the San Ignacio Bed and Breakfast that features very comfortable yurts for accommodations. That sounded pretty interesting, so we backtracked out of town a short ways and found the B&B. It was on the lake, on the southeast side of the road. It looked like a fun place to spend the rest of the day and the night. They had a cheaper alternative to the yurts, a palapa, so we went for the palapa.

We hadn't eaten a meal yet today, so we walked a quarter mile to a lakefront restaurant, a Mexican, open-air affair. We had a good lunch, seated at a table with another motorcyclist, Sean from Ireland. Sean had started in Alaska and was headed for Argentina on a Honda C90 Scooter, on a shoestring budget. Ray recognized him and his bike from a ride report that he had read, so it was interesting meeting the fellow and talking with him.

Afer lunch we relocated back to palapa. The kitchen area of the B&B had WiFi so we uploaded yesterday's ride report. Then we rode 2-up on Ray's bike to the grocery store. Back at the palapa again we met up with David and Laura and had a good, long chat with them. David is a motorcycle mechanic and it was amazing what he had done to their bikes, modifying them with lots of improvements. David rides a BMW 1200 GS Adventure, and Laura rides a F800GS. We learned so much about motorcycles from David.

Most of the guests here had been on day trips to the lagoons on the Pacific Ocean side to visit the whales. Laura said she was able to reach over the side of the boat they were in and stroke a baby whale. Everybody we've talked to raved about the experience. So tomorrow we may take a side trip to one of the bays near Guerrero Negro.

Day 8

Feb 13, 2012: San Ignacio to Guerrero Negro

Map: Day-8

The night was decidedly cold, and the morning dawned clear and crisp. We were anxious to pack up quickly, and take advantage of a genuine American/Canadian breakfast (eggs, sausage, bacon, french toast, fruit salad, juice and coffee).

We waved farewell to David and Laura, then wheeled out of the beautiful palms of San Ignacio, and back into the dry desert mountains. The wind was still blowing, although not as strong as yesterday afternoon, and the morning air at 55 mph was definitely cold. We stopped in order to put on a warm jacket underneath the riding jacket.

We stopped for gas at Vizcaino, and while the attendant filled our tanks, I asked him what town we were in, and how many kilometers to Guerrero Negro. We were planning on turning off the highway several kilometers before Guerrero Negro, and we didn't want to miss our turn.

A large sign indicating the turnoff to Laguna Oja de Liebre marked our dirt road out to Campo de Valenas, where we hoped to be able to go out on a whale watching boat ride. The dirt road led us through sandy desert and evaporation ponds for harvesting sea salt. There were myriad roads through the ponds and it was easy to get lost - which we did. I was about ready to backtrack to the junction where I knew we had turned the wrong way, when two Mexicans in a pickup truck happened by and offered to lead us to the right road. We spent 20 minutes zooming behind the pickup truck.

Map of whale-watching establishment

Eventually we made it to the beach of the big Lagoon, called "Laguna Ojo de Liebre" but in my day it was called "Scammon's Lagoon." We wandered inside the whale-watching establishment, and learned that the next boat was leaving in 10 minutes and they had room for us. Before we knew it we were in a panga heading out into the laguna, with Antonio at the helm. We didn't see anything for the first 10 minutes, other than spouts of steam way out in the sound. Before long, though, we were surrounded by gray whales, mostly in pairs, mothers and calves.

The next few hours had to be experienced to be believed. The whales are not afraid of the pangas and they're not aggressive. In fact, they are very gentle and careful while swimming near the boats. Each whale seemed to have a separate temperament. Most of them were somewhat aloof. But a few were curious, or at least very tolerant of our presence, and they liked to come right up to the boat, so close you could reach out and touch them - mothers and calves both. One of the mothers rolled over on her back and swam just a foot or two under the boat, upside down, and did not make a splash or a disturbance of any kind. She was so gentle, it was just profound. Gentle giants. If ever there were a species that is worth saving, this is it. They are magnificent creatures.

I got to touch a couple of them, and so did Jenny. Their skin felt like rubber and surely they could feel us touching them, and I wondered what was going through their minds. The whale watching service has been in operation for many years here, and the same whales come here every year, so maybe the whales have reached an understanding that humans are not to be feared in this bay. Whether that is good or not, I'm not quite sure; but it was a memorable experience that we wouldn't have missed for the world. Ironically, it was not part of our trip's itinerary, but we decided from La Paz that we would just wing it, and take it as it comes.

We rode back out to the highway, and in another 15 minutes had arrived in the town of Guerrero Negro.

Jenny writes: I'm glad Ray decided to ride through town because I enjoy getting off the highway, slowing down, and seeing what each town has to offer. I noticed, though, that Ray's head turned abruptly at every motel we drove past, so I gathered we were staying the night here. We rode a mile into town, then Ray pulled a quick left turn onto a muddy, bumpy dirt road. Where in the world is he going now? Then a left into a muddy, bumpy, dirt driveway, and there in front of us was a terrific looking little motel (Don Gus). Now how did he find this place?

Ray writes: We unloaded the bikes, then road 2-up back east into town to find something to eat. The first restaurant to catch my eye I thought it would be a good place to eat, but the parking lot was full of cars and jeeps with California license plates. I like to avoid establishments that are overrun by Americans. I can get that in the States. Down here, I want to interact with the locals. So we drove on and found a quiet little Mexican place. We went in and I ordered a combination plate and Jenny ordered grilled fish, and both were excellent. The only other customers were a couple who had come down from Ensenada who had drove down to enjoy the warmth. He was from Brazil, and she was a black lady from Maryland. Both were really nice, and we enjoyed talking to them.

Day 9

Feb 14, 2012: Guerrero Negro to camp north of Alfonsinas

Map: Day-9

We got going just after first light. The sky was cloudy and the wind had died somewhat. We headed north on Mexico 1 and shortly passed through a rain cloud where we got some rain. We stopped for gas at a Pemex station at Villa Jesus Maria.

The following photos were taken during our road stops. Like a visit to a Botanic Garden.

At the junction where Mexico 12 heads east to Bahia de los Angeles, we stopped at a small tienda for snacks. We talked to the 3 or 4 locals inside, bought some empenadas and a gallon of water. There was a pickup truck parked across the street selling gasolina, but we didn't need any so we continued on to Chapala. There we stopped in a small Mexican restaurant and had a very good Mexican breakfast of Huevos Rancheros with coffee, chips and salsa, and soup. The soup was delicious: rice, zucchini squash, onions and fresh clams.

From here, we turned east onto the dirt road heading northeast. We had about 50 miles of dirt road leading back to the Sea of Cortez side of Baja norte. It was slow going because the road was severely washboarded and sometimes rocky, but fortunately there was very little deep sand. We had researched this road and found that someone had called it 50 miles of "pure hell" but for us going slowly on the motorcycles, we were in heaven. Sometimes it is not about speed, it is about riding enjoyment, wide open spaces, good Baja weather, and interesting terrain and vegetation. We made many stops to take photos and enjoy the scenery. The government is gradually paving this road, so eventually it will completely change the experience of being here. The only people we met were fellow motorcyclists. And of course, Coco.

We came to Coco's Corner and he greeted us and invited us into his property. We all sat down with sodas in his portico, and enjoyed our time with this interesting and very famous person. Coco's picture is on every ride report of those who pass this way. He lost both of his legs below the knees to diabetes years ago, but remarkably it didn't slow him down all that much. He gets around just fine. When we first pulled up he was riding his small quad pulling a trailer. As we drove along the dirt road we had seen piles of tires marking dangerous holes in the road, and I had learned from reading various ride reports, that Coco was the person who put the tires there, to help safeguard travelers.

I asked Coco about rattlesnakes. He said there were many, mostly sidewinders, but they haven't come out of the dens yet, but should become active at the end of February. Another vehicle pulled up and we met and sat around talking with Coco with 3 Canadians, husband, wife, and son. The Canadian fellow said he has been wanting to drive this road for years (so had I) and was looking forward to meeting this famous person (me too).

Coco has a fine sense of humor. Somehow he gets ladies to donate a pair of underwear, and I can't imagine Coco pinning them to the rafters, so I imagine the ladies must do it. Out back is a circle of defunct commodes facing a defunct tv. Over on the west side of the property are accommodations in the form of camper shells sitting on the ground. They looked pretty cozy, actually. We imagined they must be very clean, because his whole ranch is spotless. Jenny asked where his dogs were, and Coco replied that he doesn't like dogs because they poop all over the place and he doesn't like that.

Coco knows the land around here so well, and was able to tell us exactly how far to a dangerous sandy area on the road, or where the steep vados (dips in the road) north of Puertecitos. We paid him for the sodas and left him an extra large tip. We recommend everyone who visits this region do the same, because visitor donations are his only source of income, and he provides a pleasant respite and help for travelers out here in the middle of nowhere.

We carried on, riding along the bumpy dirt road, then arrived at Alfonsinas in the late afternoon. We pulled into the small Pemex station, and had to wait about 10 minutes for the attendant. Meanwhile we bought more water and juice and snacks which would become the evening's dinner, as were were planning to camp out somewhere north of here.

Continuing to head north along the coast, in 15 more miles we reached pavement.

In the last fifteen miles we had been looking for a good place to camp, but the terrain here, close to the beach was sandy, and we dared not venture off the road and risk getting stuck. Driving along the pavement, we finally found a place to pull off on a good dirt construction road leading down to the beach. We couldn't camp just anywhere because it was very windy, and we had no tent or tarp, so we had to find a protected place out of the wind. With that done, we took off our panniers from the bikes and set them on the ground to give us a little more wind block. Then we spread our ground sheet down on the sand and set small rocks all the way around the perimeter so no wind could get underneath it. Then under our quilt we had a very pleasant night. The sky was clear and the stars were so bright and so numerous that it was hard to pick out our favorite ones.

About 2 am I got up and went on a moonlight hike to enjoy the ambiance. The night air was fragrant, the seas were fairly quiet, and I hiked along the coast for about a mile. I couldn't find firewood to build a fire, but eventually found some so I built a little campfire on the beach. The people have burned up all the firewood, so that might be a problem for the coastal kayaker; better have a camping stove and fuel. At the break of day I erased my fire-site, and returned to our camp.

Day 10

Feb 15, 2012: Camp north of Alfonsinas to Arizona City

Map: Day-10

We packed up and road short ways to the coast to take a round of photos of the sunrise. Then we continued riding the pavement north. The scenery was stupendous in the early morning light. We had to be careful of rocks that had fallen from the cliffs and landed on the pavement, and also the vados, many of which showed deep scars from people driving over them too fast. For two hours we saw only one other person, someone riding a bicycle, but no other vehicles. And there had been no vehicles on the highway during the night.

We past by Puertecitos without stopping, then mid-morning pulled into San Felipe for gas and coffee. In the parking lot We put the bikes up on the center stands to check tire pressure and to lube the chains. Then we headed north, following Mexico 5. Early afternoon we reached Mexicali and drove the busy street to the north end of town and the border fence, then west on the border road. We ended up in a line of vehicles three lanes wide. Other drivers kept telling us we needed to be over to the left in the fourth lane, but it was too late and we couldn't get over to that lane. A fellow riding a motorcycle actually stopped, walked over to us, and told us to just zig-zag through, lane-splitting, and get up to the front of the line. So that is what we started doing. The motorists didn't mind, they were apparently used to this.

Eventually we got through and arrived in Calexico, California. We kept going north to Interstate 8 then headed east to Yuma. We stopped for gas there and went in to the restaurant and ordered large salads. Jenny started to pay with pesos, but realized that would not work, so she went back out to her bike to dig out some American dollars.

We made a couple more stops in the late afternoon. The freeway riding was very windy, and we couldn't go much more than 65 mph because of safety concerns. But in the late evening the wind died. The sun went down and we road by headlights. We pulled in to our home town, and then in to our driveway, at 7:30 pm.

Jenny writes: As always, it felt good to be safely home. But it also felt fantastic to have successfully driven our Mexico loop. Although the last day was a long one, over 12 hours of traveling including a lot of fast freeway riding, it was still very rewarding. With Ray's good coaching (and infinite patience) all along the way, I now feel much more confident in my riding skills, on both paved and dirt roads. I can no longer claim to be a newb.

Our 9-day Mexico loop was a good introduction to adventure riding for me. It was just long enough to get into a good, daily riding rhythm, but not so long that I became bored or tired. It was great fun to practice speaking Spanish, and to see some more of Mexico. The southern areas we had ridden through were much more interesting than the northern areas; obviously, the farther away we traveled from the U.S. the more genuine the Mexican culture became, at least to my eye. On the mainland, in southern Sonora and on in to Sinaloa, the land is used for agriculture, and there seemed to be more respect for the land here. In Baja California Sur, the locals seemed a bit friendlier and more forgiving of gringos than in BC Norte. But all along the way, the ruggedness and uniqueness of the terrain, and the fun and challenging roads, made for fantastic moto riding.