|
The next morning we awoke to a beautiful sunrise over Bahia San Luis Gonzaga. The sea breeze was brisk, but nothing like the hard freeze we had experienced the night before. Curtis managed to find someone to put two layers of hot patches inside his front tire to replace the makeshift sidewall plug we installed the previous afternoon. His sidewall still had a rather menacing convex bulge to it, so we installed a couple more heavy duty zip ties and cranked them down in an effort to try and moderate the inevitable sidewall flex we would experience on the road from Bahia San Luis Gonzaga to its eventual junction with Mexico 1. Since he had knobby tires, we were able to route the zip ties between the knobbies to minimize the wear and tear they would undoubtedly receive. After fueling our gas tanks and stomachs, we headed south. The road got more spectacular as it headed into some very ancient, desolate hills. The road undulated with the natural rise and fall of the earth, with surprisingly steep, rocky climbs, sharp turns and vados (low places where creek beds run across the road) in places where you might not expect them. The theme to "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly" played in my mind as I rode along. Literally, this could have been a first-rate backdrop for a classic western movie. Maybe it was used in a western movie for all I know. After more punishing washboard that alternated with deep sand, and after more than a few close calls with near tank-slappers because of my street-oriented tires, we made it to Coco's Corner. Coco is a bit of a legend in these parts. His place sits at the crossroads of two rough and desolate unpaved roads. No matter which route you take to get there, you can count on practically having your fillings rattle out of your head before you arrive. Coco's Corner is also a popular pit area for the Baja 1000 crews, since the race route goes right by his place. If you ever just happen find yourself in the neighborhood (yeah, right!) you should make it a point to drop in. He's always got an ice cold beer calling your name, and he's quite a character. The place is endlessly fascinating with all the colorful bric-a-brac everywhere. Even the bathroom facilities are rather... ahem... interesting. Let's just say that it's something you need to experience firsthand. If you sign Coco's guest book and write a little bit about your journey, he will draw a picture of you beside your entry. He drew a small picture of me on my motorcycle after I finished writing my entry. Coco keeps the guest books meticulously ordered, and I understand that if you tell him when friends have gone through on previous occasions, he will retrieve the proper guest book(s) for you so that you can read what they had to write. This is also a good way to communicate if you're separated from your buddies and want to verify that they're still alive and kicking. Coco told us a story about a guy who had come through on a BMW motorcycle only a day or two before us. The guy had taken his hand off the handlebar to adjust his face shield or something, hit a big pothole or other obstacle in the road, and subsequently had a rather nasty crash. I'll spare you the gruesome details, but the description didn't sound very pleasant and I'm assuming he didn't have a full face helmet on. You're a really long way from anything resembling medical care out there. After lounging around for entirely too long, we eventually departed and endured the last stretch of bad road before reaching Mexico 1. Wow, it sure felt good to zip along on a smooth, hard, relatively predictable surface. We boogied along on the highway, reached Guerro Negro where we fueled up, and headed south again at a moderately alarming rate of speed. It was getting late in the day, and we still had a significant distance to ride to get to San Ignacio where we were planning to spend the night. None of us wanted to ride after dark more than we had to. There's just nothing like zipping along a desolate little two-lane Mexican road in the twilight, only to realize that you just flew past a cow grazing on the side of the road a foot or two from your motorcycle. Although I have been fortunate to have traveled quite extensively, driving in Baja was something of an eye opener. If you drive there for any time at all, you are almost certain to encounter each of these in your lane at the most unexpected time: A cow, a burro, wild horses, large rocks, mud and/or water, an oncoming car, an oncoming bus, and of course an oncoming tractor trailer truck (most likely attempting to pass another oncoming tractor trailer truck on a blind corner). I will kindly describe the Baja driving style as "complacent." We arrived in San Ignacio well after dark, after witnessing possibly the most spectacular sunset I have ever seen. It was doubly difficult to keep my eyes on the road with the miraculous light show going on all around. Not to mention that it took place behind an equally beautiful forest of majestic Cordon cactus. When we arrived in San Ignacio , Curtis and I followed Ged around what seemed to be a random maze of dirt streets in the dark. The others had arrived in the late afternoon, and we were just straggling in. We rode around and around trying to find our other riding buddies to no avail. Finally, we gave up and stopped at a taco stand in the center of town. The taco stand was just too much of a temptation. Tired, dusty and hungry we gorged ourselves on fish and shrimp tacos and admired the lush date palms completely surrounding us in this unlikely desert oasis. A stone's throw from our dining table (which consisted of a concrete park bench next to the taco stand) was the beautiful mission in downtown San Ignacio all lit up for Christmas. It was quite an inspirational sight, to say the least. After eating our fill of tacos, we caught up to our riding buddies and found out that their motel was full. We ended up playing "musical motels" all over town until we finally found one that had rooms available. Of course, it was the most expensive one in town, but the rooms were palatial and Baja 1000 footage was playing on the television, so we all showered and then met in my room to drink cold cerveza and watch the show. It's Christmas Eve. Life's good.
|