Nuevo Amigos and Heartbreak in Baja

[Goofy Footer 539]

Two old riding partners.  Neither had been on motos in a while.  5 months for one and 13 months for the other. 

3 days, big miles, lackadaisical start times and early sunsets.  A foreign country, probable chance of rain and current reports of both civil unrest and fuel shortages.  What could go wrong?

 

 

Technically, Day 1 started a week late due to heavy rain in Baja the weekend before.  This Day 1 started out with biscuits and gravy from Carl's Jr and a constant drizzle.  Enough to warrant the occasional flick of the wiper lever but not a torrential downpour that might cancel the trip.  Gearing up the dry confines of our vehicles, we set forth across the border and into The Baja.  Note, one bike fired right up without issue but the other was having some weird carb issues.  It wouldn't want to idle until warm so once fired, it had to be kept revved for a bit and then would run fine.  Allegedly. 

Heading South on the hwy, all one could see were the constant dots or water accumulating on our goggle screens.  It was wet out, wiping down the goggle lens provided only temporary visibility.  Heading inland we quickly ditched the goggles off-road.  This provided some clearer visibility but demanded the constant squinting to prevent water droplets from hitting our exposed eyes.  Progress was slow through the towns, I really slow down and show respect.  Speed was still slow on open trail as a result of the rain.

Stopping at under the big tree at Compadre Ranch provided minimal relief.  As bodies and bikes cooled, the effects of the weather started becoming apparent: hands were cold and cramping, waterproof jackets soaked onto base layers and the bikes' seats became sponges for the rain.

Discussion was had - to return home or continue further south?  Were we running into the storm or out running it's travels. 

We stopped to talk with some friendly mountain bikers.  They had come from across the US and overseas to ride Baja.  We would come across almost 100 bikes during our trip.  Friendly waves were thrown in their direction as we passed.

Upon reaching lunch, we found momentary solitude from the rain and saw the sun for the first time all day.  We quickly hung our clothes to dry (somewhat) while we happily found the best taco spot in town to be open for business.  It's often closed on weekdays when I've passed before.  As tacos were consumed, we notified the shop to the oncoming mtn bikers and they opened all the building doors to welcome new guests. 

The bike that had the initial starting issue had declined.  It was running but would only hold high rpm throttle.  It was running exceptionally lean on the bottom end for reasons unknown.  With bleak weather on the horizon and sunset approaching, the route was adjusted through town.  As if on cue, the rain resumed once the bikes were fired up.  Still, the sunny lunch was a glorious moment granted upon us by Huitzilopochtli.  A busy city with stoplights, in the rain and a bike that refused to idle proved to be a woeful experience and both bike and rider were happy to be continuing south past town. 

One gas station with protestors was noted.  As was the mental note to refill whenever possible.  Gassing up for the last time that night we headed into the hills and towards the coast in darkness.  One stock and one aftermarket light, in the rain and in the dark proved slow but at a safe pace.  While gassing, we preemptively called ahead, both requesting bed accommodations and dinner.  Requests were granted and to our pleasant delight, our pot of dinner goodness was ready upon arrival. 

The hostel was empty and a relaxing night was in order.  Hot showers (with new token system) were immediately started.  Wifi was a new discovery and bedtime was prompt with promises to fix bikes and re-evaluate trip goals in the morning; weather being the biggest variable.

 

 

[Goofy Footer 539]

Day 2. 

The morning of Day 2 came with some trepidation.  Understandable considering it was decently unpleasant 160+ miles of wetness the day before.  The outlook didn't seem great at Day 1's eve.  The bedroom was small but nicely decorated with Baja curtains (imagine a colorful Baja poncho / rug but as drapes).  The pillow, oversized and the slightly undersprung bed didn't stop a quality night's well deserved slumber (refer to your individual sleep # ymmv).  Purposely remaining quiet in bed, like a hunter in a meadow, listening for it.  But where was it?  No thunder was heard.  No stormy rain was heard.  No drizzle against the glass window was heard.  Actually, it was quiet.  It was bright.  Slowly sitting up (taking caution not to bonk off the top bunk), pupils adjusted to the sight ... of sun.

Realizing the phone based alarm didn't actually go off, relative haste was taken to get downstairs; there, a quiet and empty dining room and more sun filled views.  Outside, a rider turned mechanic had the seat, tank and sidepanels off the yellow dizzer and tools were strewn about.  The rider turned mechanic had been up early.  Too early.  In an attempt to fix the drz woe from rainy Day 1.  Feverishly trying to adjust some internal clicker deep in the carb, the other rider quickly turned into other rider turned mechanic apprentice.  A crucial bent bolt didn't help matters but 4 hands adjusted this deep internal carb clicker nearly 10 full clicks.  It was reasoned that this should do the trick.  Initial testing proved promising.  Sidepanels, tank and seat were torqued to rider turned mechanic hand torque specifications and breakfast was to be had. 

The dirtrider classic was ordered - two ranch eggs, two bacon, a waffle and coffee for those who need their morning fix of daily hot dirt water to temper their morning caffeine addiction. 

Understandably with the mechanical necessities and underperforming alarm clock, it was a late start to the morning.  All things considered (Day 1's rain, the still partial wet jacket, the maintenance time, the poor running drz, the late start, the uncertain gas / alleged civil unrest reports AND the general laid back vibes of a peaceful coastal weekend at a quiet hostel), it was determined that the team would leisurely explore opposed to hammering down miles.  Southward trails led us to beaches both known and yet to be tapped. 

It's often a mad rush to cover miles and eat up trail.  In the speed and haste, it's possible to pass up local gems.  Day 2 would not be such a ride.  Nonchalantly cruising down the coast, picking fun trails we headed south.  Photos were taken and laughs were shared over minor hooliganism riding and the shear mass of beauty that is desolate baja coast.  The riding duo often stopped to take in views, one view which included the lead bike sinking into some deep coastal mud, trapping the riding under the bike and buried in muck. 

Further south, the decision was made to temporarily halt further exploration to refuel.  The mantra "never pass gas in baja" has multiple implications.  None more so than when the nearest (and quite large) gas station was taped off closed.  Not a car in sight.  Talking to the gas station workers, they offered to call the next nearest station and request an update on our behalf.  Nobody picked up on the other end and the team gambled, heading further south, away from the hostel in an attempt to find gas and more adventure.  Sometimes you get lucky, and Day 2 was it.  The team gassed and continued south.  One missed turn by the lead bike snoozing lead us a bit further south than anticipated.  The highway was partially blocked by an apparent protest (very peaceful without issue - just making a quiet statement).  A local amigo, member of the town's bomberos waved the team ahead showing that it was okay. 

Turning a nav mistake into an opportunity for lunch, a Baja Especial and a quesadilla platter was ordered, con dos coca-colas and a feast was had overlooking the Pacific from the northern tip of a cove.  The late lunch meant and even later return time to the hostel.  Luckily the team had 3 to chose from and headed north. 

Sunset over a rocky beach and further travels into the night slowed progress somewhat.  One team member enjoys the night while the other dreamt of a warm bed and brighter headlight.  Arriving at the next hostel north, it was eerily dark inside.  Electricity was down, food was nowhere to be found and one bathroom was to be shared among the guests.  Thanks but no thanks and the team continued north again, scoring illusive fuel and riding into the night. 

The slab transit was slow and deliberate, providing safe passage for the team.  Dinner had closed for the evening but ice cream and snacks from other riders and surfers were consumed.  One rider went to bed, the other stayed up conversing with riders and surfers alike.  These Nuevo Amigos proved vital - on Day 3. 

 

[Goofy Footer 539]

Day 3

 

As Day 2 ended, one rider stayed up late, discussing Baja and its travels in to the cold damp night.  A rusty perforated washing machine tub turned fire pit burned local fallen tree for warmth.  Smoke rose through the open bar yet the night's sky remained clear and the forecast for the final day of riding looked optimistic despite unknown conditions to the north and elevations reaching upwards of 5,000 feet.

Besides the Team, two other groups resided at the coastal hostel that night.  Technically three groups but the third arrived so late they barely make the count.  One group, 6 or so members strong consisted of two father/son (both adults) teams and a brave ride leader.  A multiple time Baja racer (Class 11 Stock VW Bugs), the Ride Leader, exuded sincerity and Baja knowledge as he spoke.  Discussion was had over new routes of travel and surreptitious caves, bluffside jumps and ancient volcanoes.  Hailing from the mountains of the western slope of the Sierra Nevadas in Central California, these were good people.  They were riders.  Common employment history connected the Team to this group.  That connection and quick friendship quickly proved immediately beneficial. 

Surfers from Northern and Central California formed the second group.  Celebrating their last night in the Baja, tequila flowed copiously from the bottles behind the Barefoot Bar.  From the Seven Sisters, a grouping of remote surf breaks, this group of brothers and sisters told tales of tacos de pescado and olas.  The common employment theme continued into this group too.  Day 3 officially began, slumped into a well worn couch, cold pacifico in hand and tequilia in bloodstream, watching the third group - a very late arriving joint of Chinese fishermen, work in typical fashion, 1 guy laboring away while 4 offered unsolicited critique, on fishing reels into the AM. 

Trying not to repeat a 3rd leisurely morning, the Team was up earlyish to catch breakfast.  The surfers struggled while the other dirtbike group took off north on a short day to Ensenada.  The Team said it's goodbyes, not anticipating seeing these riders on the trail.  The surfettes vacuumed and reorganized the suv while the surfers lounged in the dining hall avoiding cleaning and the "constant reorganizing" at all costs.  Tabs were paid and tears were shed as the Team ventured north, vowing to avoid Ensenada traffic and ride Hero Dirt sans dust back to Tecate. 

No work was done to the bikes this morning.  The DRZ struggled to idle but was running, its condition still an enigma.  With a start reminiscent of Chad Reed off the supercross gate, the DRZ took off with swift abandon.  Following the well traveled and deeply grooved coastal route North, the Team passed Punta Cabras, home of the red tent story and a small fishing encampment from where the nightcrawling fishermen may have launched.  Without haste, heading up the recently rutted hill past the lonesome christmas tree, the beach fell from sight. 

Along this path, a friendly face waved a Team rider down.  Querying the location of the other riders, their chase truck driver sat parked just off the road.  Advising him that the group must have been ahead of the Team and that he likely had missed them, the driver turned the Chevy long bed around and headed towards Hwy 1 to play catch. 

The DRZ, in lead, arrived at Hwy 1 first where it was stopped by a few construction workers due to road work.  This momentary pause proved pivotal.  Idling perpendicular to the yet to be painted fresh asphalt, the DRZ died.  Carb and idle issues aside, this was unexpected.  Dash lights flickered while the bike failed to fire.  Fuming and most certainly cussing inside the helmet, the DRZ rider quickly worked on a diagnosis.  Efforts fruitless, the bike would not restart.  Arriving second, the WR rider came upon the scene of a dead bike, some 2-3 hours highway transit south of the border.

Here, the camel's back broke. 

Memories of beach speeding, coastal exploring and fine dining seemed faint if not ancient.  Repair - Rescue preceded all thought.

Time, distance and lack of resources working against the Team, lengthy repair seemed unlikely.  There are times of leisure and long lunches.  There are times of decisive action.  Decisive action was taken and the DRZ was pushed to the nearest gas station with a 5 minute time limit for repairs.  The WR would ride highway through the greater Ensenada metropolis to the truck parked safely on the US side and return for rescue operations. 

Sitting at the hwy, the Team was alone.  The other riding group assuredly was far North considering their hour head start.  The surf crew was taking a different route.  No other riders were seen along the coastal trail.  The Team was alone.  Both physically and even more so emotionally draining, the push towards the gas station further humbled the Team.  A poor sight indeed, a rider pushing the broken steed.  35 horsepower replaced by 1 humanpower. 

Surprisingly abuzz howerver, the gas station proved a land of friendlies.  There, the Team recognized Baja allies and as if on cue, both the Ride Leader and chase truck appeared from behind the construction scene a moment before the WR was to launch North.  Luckily for the Team, the Ride Leader was backtracking to find the chase truck which the Team had just passed.  A small communication error on their part proved an gloriously opportunistic moment for the Team. 

The team leader sprung into action, and the DRZ was quickly loaded into the Chevy and transport to Ensenada was offered.  Immediately prior to loading the DRZ, practically mocking the Team, the DRZ decided to fire.  The risk of continuing under its own power was too great and the team would be foolish to leave surefire help from these good people.  Gutted, the DRZ rider climbed into the truck's cab and was escorted to Ensenada while the WR and team leader rode into town. 

The other riders were to explore La Bufadora outside Ensenada and enjoy an afternoon in town before heading back to the US the next morning.  Choosing to forgo certain local fun and free flowing libations, Rid Leader offered both DRZ and WR a ride to the border.  Unprecedented and unexpected, the Team jumped on this gracious opportunity to not only remain together while crossing the international border but also save time from additional slabbing.

Like celebrities, the Team was driven immediately to the front of the border line and bikes were walked into the US.  The DRZ of course, fired up without issue once in the homeland.  Still, it had been one issue too many. 

Stateside, Day 3 ended with dinner and recap was had over burgers stuffed with copious amounts of meat and tots; tater tots. 

Another great ride in the books.  Adventure keeps the soul young. 

 

 

 

Huge Baja Thanks goes out to Senor Matt, the ride leader and his crew/chase driver.  You stepped up in a pinch and We owe you. 

 

 

 

 

[Bp619 104]

Following 

[Dress4Less 162]

More Tim! More!

[sdchronix 0]

I need some real street tacos in my life right now. And some baja riding....

[Goofy Footer 539]

Day 2 text has been uploaded

[Dress4Less 162]

Keep it coming!

[Dan Diego 40]

Good stuff! Waiting for Day 3.?

[mufflerbearings 0]

Thanks for posting, Goofy Footer!  Awaiting more photos!

[Goofy Footer 539]

Thanks for the encouragement guys. 

Pics for Day 2 are uploaded.

[MacDuncan 131]

Great stuff Baja Mac Daddy, enjoy the adventure!

[Reximus 10]

"...Daily fix of hot dirt water..."

[mufflerbearings 0]

Day three photos?...... C'mon Tim - help me get through this work day!

[hodnettjj 0]

As the focus of the day 3 photos... they aren't spectacular...

Tim has done a superb job with the write up so far I'll let him finish...

[Goofy Footer 539]

Day 3 write-up has been uploaded.  Pics to come later.

[Danmule 2]

Need me some baja, any pics from day 3 would be greatly appreciated. Awsome write up.