Days 4 And 5: Just Past Héroe De La Independencia To About 5 Km South Of El Chinero To San Felipe

We woke up in good spirits and headed out, briefly considering returning to Heroe de la Independencia for breakfast.  We decided instead to forge ahead and take our chances at the next village, which wasn't too far away according to Gonzalo's GPS.

Riding out from our desert campsite (photo credit: Gonzalo).

We didn't have much luck as there was only a small market in the village, so we grabbed some drinkable yogurt, refilled our water, and snacked on the road.  We found ourselves on an easy gradual climb to Lázaro Cardenas where we stopped for an early lunch at a roasted chicken place because we thought this might be the last civilization until San Felipe.  Turns out we were wrong.  There is a tiny town called Francisco R. Serrano with a little loncheria about an hour or so down the road from Lázaro Cardenas.  But, hey, it’s not so bad to be wrong.  For just 80 pesos (less than $7), we got a whole roasted chicken, tortillas, rice, salsa, and salad. 

We had originally planned to take a dirt road shortcut shortly past Lázaro Cardenas that went straight into San Felipe, but the allure of traffic-free pavement persuaded us to stay the course.  Then we saw the standstorm swirling along that dirt road and felt better about our decision.

After Francisco R. Serrano, there are no amenities, but it didn't really matter.  It was a breathtakingly fast long descent to El Chinero, where Highway 3 meets Highway 5.  Turns out that climb into Lázaro Cardenas and Francisco R. Serrano was easy because of the massive tailwind that was the cause of the sandstorm… which pushed us even faster on the descents… so fast that I had to brake because I could feel myself nearly losing control.

Gonz flies down and waits for me once the descent mellows out (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Once we hit El Chinero, we had to pass through another military checkpoint.  This time, one guy made a halfhearted effort to search my duffel and my framebag, while the other chatted me up about the trip.  I’m sure the guy had fun poking my toilet paper and “she wee.”

As we turned back south on Highway 5 towards San Felipe, the wonderful tailwind turned into a horrific headwind, which we battled for about 5 km before giving up to find a campsite for the night.  We basically cycled until we found a break in the fence and dragged our bikes through the sand until we were far enough from the road to set up camp behind some trees.  

I thought I wouldn’t like this campsite, but the view of the mountains saved the day.  Opposite the mountains were the salt flats before the ocean.    

It was such a clear night that we ended up staying up after making dinner just talking, stargazing, and counting satellites (ooh, and I saw a shooting star!).

The winds only calmed down for a couple hours, and we ended up being woken up around midnight to high winds.  I was worried that these winds would be our constant enemy over the next couple of weeks as we planned to work our way south on the Mar de Cortes.  I was pleasantly surprised to awake to calm skies and we easily pedaled our way the last 55 km to San Felipe.  It wasn't until we reached San Felipe that we found out that the sandstorm (also known as a "haboob" hee hee) was not common and that we would not have to battle raging winds every day. 

About 8 km from San Felipe, we started to get hungry and so we stopped at the Restaurante Plaza Azul, a local breakfast spot that caters to the expat crowd that lives on the beach outside of town.  The smell of coffee drew us in, despite the overwhelming number of aging gringos inside, and the food ended up being authentic and delicious.  It was then that we found out about the Boston Marathon bombing, which was the talk of everyone at the restaurant.

Soon enough, though, people got distracted by our bikes parked outside and started chatting us up.  As we were getting our check, an older American man who had arrived came over to us and told us he was going to pay our check.  He hadn’t said a word to us before then, but had overheard our conversation about our trip with other patrons.  He gave us a valuable tip about Coco’s Corner south of Gonzaga Bay as we head south onto dirt roads and wished us good luck.  Coco is an amputee who apparently wheeled himself in a wheelchair down Baja and settled at a crossroads in the middle of nowhere.  

In just this short amount of time, I've been amazed by the kindness of strangers, from the friendly honks and waves we get from passing cars, trucks, and motorcyclists, to a stranger who bought some hungry cyclists breakfast.

The spirit was catching… our lovely waitress gave us free water on our way out and took our picture.  If you are ever near San Felipe, go to Restaurante Playa Azul on Highway 3!

Gonzalo and I arrived in San Felipe in good spirits with full bellies and took our time to find a place to stay for the next couple of days.  After inquiring at a few places, we found a nice private place owned by a guy known as the General who has just 3 rooms for rent next to his home. 

This place is immaculate and tucked away in a non-touristy part of town.

My first shower of the trip was glorious.  After washing the grime of four and a half days of cycling off, we headed out to explore the town, find some lunch, and take a walk on the beach.  San Felipe is a surprisingly large town with all the amenities you could want from internet to supermarkets to a thriving malecon, the beachfront area with all the nightlife.  I hadn't expected much since Lonely Planet Mexico gives it just a passing glance as a former fishing village turned tourist destination, but it's been a pleasant surprise.

This area is renowned for its offroading, so pimped out VW bugs are pretty much the norm here (photo credit: Gonzalo).

We got distracted by the thought of fresh seafood and checked out Chuys Place at the suggestion of an older local who was out washing his massive 1980s Lincoln… I ordered a clamato con almejas, which is like a really fresh and tangy bloody mary with clam juice and in this case, fresh local clams.

This is the face of a man who has been dreaming of seafood for the last 2 days and who finally had his dreams come true.    Even better, they gave us a free sampling of garlicky steamed local clams to start!

Chuys Place can be found on the street parallel to the malecon almost all the way to the north end of the beach.  It is owned and run by locals for locals (and tourists alike).

Not a bad place to have to spend the next couple of days… the beach is blissfully empty and there isn't really such thing as a "bad weather" day.

Gonzalo and I returned to our temporary abode to continue our trip planning and catching up with the outside world for the evening, taking only a short break to head out for a late snack of tacos at Tacos Filete in between the Pemex and Oxxo, which we found thanks to the gas station attendant at the Pemex.  This place was great... you order your taco and meat, and then load up the toppings to your taste, including an awesome habanero mango salsa.  Two tacos, a pineapple juice, and a beer later, it was time to call it a day.