Days 17 Through 20: Guerrero Negro Part I

I wasn't sure what to expect from Guerrero Negro.  Gonzalo had told me that it was an industrial town that didn't have much to do from his past recollection passing through here.  Good thing he was wrong because we would be staying here until Gonzalo could import new touring rims, which would take more than a week in the best case scenario.  Guerrero Negro was named after a legendary whaling ship, which brings me to the main tourist attraction here.  This area has become a sanctuary for gray whales during birthing season as they migrate north, and from January to mid-April, you can go whale watching.  Of course, we arrived just a couple weeks too late.

Situated within the Vizcaíno Biosphere Reserve, Guerrero Negro has a real sense of community and hometown pride.  The ESSA salt production facility, the largest natural sea salt production facility in the world, provides a profitable and sustainable industry for the local economy.  Outside of the whale season, Guerrero Negro is a quiet but welcoming town that has slowly won me over.  Even the well-intentioned Jehovah's Witness who struck up a conversation with me on the street was charming.

One of our morning rituals... mounds of fresh fruit, yogurt, and granola.  After days of pasta and meat, we gorge on fresh produce.

Our home in Guerrero Negro is a bit crowded.

After helping Gonzalo research the fastest way to get his rims ordered, I spent a couple days exploring on my own while Gonzalo worked.  This area is great for exploring by bike... in fact, many locals here cycle as was evidenced by the full bike racks by the ESSA office.

The bird reserve on the edge of town... after I scared away all the birds with my bike.  The reserve has a ton of information about the various kinds of birds in both English and Spanish.

This place is a birder's paradise.  I saw this big guy on my way out to the old lighthouse.

The gravel/rock road out to the old lighthouse was beautiful and makes for a great day ride.

The old lighthouse.

A dock by the old lighthouse.  Now people and birds alike come to fish here.

Pelican dive-bombing a poor fish.

It's baby bird season!  We've had several of these guys eye us and warn us very loudly to stay away.

Finally, the iconic Baja fish and shrimp tacos.  When done right, they are like the perfection of a perfect plate of fish n' chips in England.  When done wrong, they are a deep fried mess.  These had the perfect amount of batter and were flash fried right in front of me.

Gray whale exhibition outside the ESSA-sponsored library.

One morning, Gonzalo and I woke up to a parade going down the main street for Mexico's equivalent of Labor Day.  I went out to watch a bit and then returned to have breakfast at a homey little family run restaurant after Gonzalo peeled himself out of bed, which has since become our new favorite breakfast spot.  It was there that we met Sara and Adolfo, a lovely couple from Guerrero Negro, who have since adopted us for our stay here.  After chatting for a bit, Sara told us about a kids' triathlon going on in town and then they invited us on a personal tour of the ESSA salt production facility the next day.  We exchanged contact information and then I was off to check out the triathlon.

This kid was not part of the triathlon, but he has a pimpin' mountain bike.

The start of the kayak stage of the triathlon.  The concept was a good one, the kids all formed teams of four (one runner, two kayakers, and one cyclist) and raced as a relay.

Cyclists await their kayakers...

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• Although I built my bike to be easily fixed in Latin America, in particular, having the universally available 26" wheels and a mountain bike set-up to be easily repaired in the field, Gonzalo's touring set-up with 700c requires that he import parts from the U.S. since it is basically impossible to get quality parts anywhere but a capitol city.  Be aware that if you choose to tour with 700c wheels and you need replacement parts (or choose to tour with someone with 700c wheels), you will need to be prepared for a long wait to get parts.  While there is a national paquetería service with overnight capabilities to major cities, in Baja, it's worth looking into Baja Pack Express, which uses the passenger buses to ship their packages.

• Outside of the whale watching season, it is impossible to organize tours to do anything else that may be within a day trip away as all the guides have left town.  I learned this after trying to find a guide to take me to the Sierra de San Francisco to see some ancient cave drawings.  I did figure out that if I wanted to pay over $200, I could take a bus to San Ignacio, hire a van there, and do it on my own... but... yea... 

• Refill your bottles at one of the water purification places.  It was just 5 pesos to fill 8 liters.

Days 15 And 16: Valle Santa Ana To Guerrero Negro

We sacrificed Gonzalo's rim to the gravel and rocks... while his gear is very high quality, the sheer weight he carries and the rough terrain caused two cracks in his rim.  Even though we had already decided that the second stage of our off road ventures were probably too ambitious given the heat, road conditions, and lack of amenities, this cemented our decision to divert to Guerrero Negro.

Ouchie boo boo rim (photo credit: Gonzalo).

At first, he just shifted some weight to his front panniers and I took most of the food to see if we could avert a complete rim failure.  We set off carefully and crossed our fingers that the rim would hold to Guerrero Negro and possibly even to La Paz where Gonzalo has connections to expedite a new touring rim from the U.S.  We had nice views of the sahuaros, a good consolation prize for some intense climbs out of Valle Santa Ana.

To make a frustrating day even worse, we had our first true close call with a chest-beating macho truck driver.  The truck driver didn't like that Gonzalo forced him to slow down, so he basically edged us off the road on purpose... very slowly.  No harm done, we were lucky that this was a part of Highway 1 that did not have a big drop off.

About 60 km before Guerrero Negro, we saw some beach access roads... according to Gonzalo's GPS, we were about 4 km from some nice breezy Pacific beach camping.  While the first two were far too rocky for Gonzalo's rim, the third wasn't too bad.

At the end of the dirt road getting ready to set up camp and go for a dip.

Aaaaah, the Pacific!

Self-portrait.  A walk on the beach.  I forgot how freaking cold the Pacific is... it ended up being just that... a walk ont he beach.

Sunset with the waves crashing against the rocks.  Just lovely.  Until we watched high tide come in and got a little worried we had pitched our tents too close to the high tide line.  We were fine, but I was ready to evacuate if necessary.

The next morning, we woke up to cool cloudy skies and enough humidity to make my skin feel almost normal again.  It was a welcome respite from all the desert riding.

Taking a look back down our beach access road on the way out.

Gonzalo is one of the dots amongst the funny cactus thingies biking into the mist.

When we got back on the road, we had a welcome surprise... the federal government actually repaved the section of Highway 1 between Rosarito and Valle Jesús María with a real actual shoulder!  We stopped at in Valle Jesús María for a late breakfast.  Gonzalo had determined that the taquería would be the best of the three restaurants because it had the most cars.  And he was right.  We had a perfect breakfast of eggs, beans, queso fresco, sliced tomato, avocado, and a wide assortment of hot sauces.  To top it off, there was a fruit stand just across the way and we gorged ourselves on mango.

TWANG.

Honk honk.

Shit.

Gonzalo popped a spoke so we pulled off the road to assess the damage to see if we could still limp into Guerrero Negro, or if we'd have to start trying to hitch a ride on a truck.  Necessity is the mother of invention and you have to be flexible on the road.  Gonzalo trued his wheel so it would at least roll sort of straight, that is, without rubbing the brake, and then moved as much weight as he could up front.

 I present, the double-duffel method.  Don't laugh, it was a moment of genius and it worked!

And they all lived happily ever after.  Or rather, we made it to Guerrero Negro safe and sound.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• The taquería in Valle Jesús María is the first one on the left as you enter "town" going south on Highway 1.

• There are plenty of small shops and markets spaced out along this section.

• The cheapest place to stay in town is the Motel Gamez on the west end of town towards the ESSA salt plant.  We are paying $15/night, split between two people.  It has hot water and a TV (if you care about that).  We learned that the Mexican cycle tourist had also stayed here a day or two before us.  Be warned that if you come between January and March, you may have problems finding reasonably priced accommodations as that is the peak whale watching season, when the gray whales give birth in the nearby lagoon.

Day 14: Coco's Corner To Somewhere Off Highway 1 Near Valle Santa Ana

Morning in my own personal Alice in Wonderland started early... this kingdom goes to bed when the sun goes down and wakes up when it rises.  We blearily started our day with a leisurely breakfast as Coco had gone into town early.  Around 8 am, Coco came careening back from town in his truck which had been modified to allow him to work the gas and brake with his hands.  He hopped out, bragged about how fast he made it back, and then it was time for the ritual hanging of the panties...

I'm not sure how it all started, but Coco has managed to convince visitors to this corner of the desert to hang panties on his "lobby" ceiling.  It is an eclectic and colorful collection of granny panties, boxers, thongs, and everything in between.  Who was I to buck tradition?  I had thrown an extra pair of underwear into my panniers that I had yet to wear since I left Seattle.  It was decided, I would leave a souvenir for Coco.  He briefly lamented that they were clean... how else was he going to keep the flies away?  Then he showed me where he wanted me to hang them.

Coco puts the nails into my underwear so that the placement is to his liking and so I don't drop the nails on my way up the ladder.

Make sure to stretch them out, Coco tells me (photo credit: Gonzalo).

All done!  They aren't fancy, but I've left my mark here!

We settled up our beer tab and gave Coco a tip... he doesn't expect a tip, but he appreciates the extra money for the gas for his ATV.  Coco bid us farewell and after a few hugs and handshakes, we were on our way.

One last picture before we hit the road!

We knew that we had about 20 km before we would rejoin Highway 1, and Coco had told us that there was a big mountain to climb out.  I mentally prepared myself for a painful climb out, but this ended up being easier than the road into Coco's.  The higher elevation here brought in cooler cycling weather so we weren't melting, and the road was more compacted gravel/rock and less sand so we didn't have to walk our bikes as much.

We met this friendly French couple about 7-8 km before the end of the climbing.  They started in Argentina  hitchhiking, then switched to buses, and finally they bought bikes in Mexico to have more freedom.  We stopped and chatted for a while, exchanging travel tips going each way.  They gave us some great ideas for the Copper Canyon where we plan to head next.

One of the big climbs I didn't quite make it up in granny gear.  I think all the climbs are rideable if you avoid hitting the big rocks... I seem to always manage to accidentally swerve into one which knocks me out of my climbing rhythm and forces me to walk (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Motorcyclists are often our biggest supporters.  Sondra stopped to chat with us about our trip and we ended up talking for almost half an hour.  She was effervescent and a welcome distraction to the climbing.  She kindly offered to be our rescue if we needed anything since she lives in San Diego. 

We made it back to Highway 1 by lunchtime and Gonzalo popped into the llantera (tire shop) at the intersection if there was somewhere to eat.  Just 1 km south, there was a small lonchería which had cold drinks, water by the liter, and great machaca burritos.  We set up camp early as we had found a great spot in the desert near Valle Santa Ana with a fire ring already made... this space had been clearly used before as a campsite and we took it as a sign.

View of the campsite from my bathroom.

Moon rising over weird cactus thingy.  Then we treated ourself to watching a movie and munching on pear jelly bellies before passing out.

Northern Baja will always hold a special place in my memories because of the stretch between San Felipe back to Highway 1.  This is a beautiful and remote area where people really look out for each other, where the quirky cowboys of the American expat community play, where a dot on a map is a one-man kingdom, and where my dreams of what cycle touring should be came true.

A few travel tips for cyclists:

• The llantera at the intersection of the road out from Coco's corner and Highway 1 sells water, but 1 km south on the righthand side of the road is a lonchería which has basic meals and even sells some food supplies like tuna, corned beef, and ramen.  I would avoid the jaiba (crab) burrito though since it didn't settle well in Gonzalo's stomach... I stuck to the bean and cheese and machaca (dried meat) burritos and they were delicious.  This is the last place for provisions before Parador Punta Prieta... which is after Valle Santa Ana.

• Cycling on Highway 1 is all about managing the trucks and cars.  There actually isn't too much traffic, but the few trucks and cars that do come through are always going fast and a bit too close for comfort.  We manage them by taking the entire lane, keeping an eye in our handlebar mirrors for vehicles come up from behind, and only moving over when they have slowed down or moved completely over to the other lane to pass.  This is particularly important when there is simultaneous oncoming traffic, since everyone seems to think they can squeeze around before the oncoming traffic arrives.

• We found our campsite this time by following a gravel road which went somewhat parallel to Highway 1 and saw the clearing.  This is a great strategy if you can't find anything appealing off the highway. 

Day 13: Gonzaga Bay To Coco's Corner

We woke up to the sunrise and headed to the Pemex to get water and juice before tackling what would be our hardest and most rewarding day of cycling so far.  Our goal for the day was to reach Coco's Corner, a tiny but iconic oasis in the middle of the desert.  We had been told by the gentleman who bought us breakfast near San Felipe that we needed to meet Coco, an amputee who wheeled himself into the desert and decided to stay.

I was a little nervous about this section since other trip reports noted that this section was a mix of sand and rock, some sections would require walking the bike, the road was basically one big gradual climb, and that previous cyclists did not reach Coco's Corner until nearly dark.

While this looks rideable... sand is the devil.  That is all (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Even the flat parts can be unrideable because of the sand.

I learned to love the bumpiness of compacted washboard section of the road... because it meant I was still riding (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Taking a minute to admire an ocotillo cactus.

This section also had some short but steep hills that reminded me of non-technical mountain biking.

Gonzalo climbs up a bumpy section.

About 40km and 8 hours later, with just two short stops for snacks, we saw a vision arising out of the desert.  Was that a roof?  Were we really there?  Yes... almost.  The promise of a cold drink was a cruel one as you can see Coco's a couple kilometers before you actually get there.  I rolled up a couple minutes after Gonzalo to a desert burlesque empire decorated with empty beer cans, underwear, miscellany, and toilets.

The entrance to this quirky and absurdly awesome empire.

Coco did not simply greet us, but rather he opened his empire to us and commanded us in Spanglish to sit, have a drink (be it water, a cold soda, or a cold beer) and rest.  This was the most important thing to do first.  Rest.  Cool down.  If we deigned to do anything else, he chided us in the kindest of ways.  Then he explained that we will have a place to stay and a shower (a la bucket n' cup) and that we would pay for nothing other than your drinks.  But first, we must cool down before showering.  Then, he pulled out a thick guestbook, drew our mode of transport and asked us to sign.

Coco loves ze ladies... here, I'm doing as told, drinking my cold beer and cooling down with Coco (photo credit: Gonzalo).

Signing the guestbook... if you look closely, Coco has drawn some pretty gnarly bicycles.  He also tells us we just missed another cycle tourist, a Mexican guy (photo credit: Gonzalo).

After a bit, Coco decided we had cooled down enough and escorted us on an ATV to our home for the night, a camper that a gringo gave him.  But before settling in, he told us it was time to shower before the sun went down.  Coco explained how the shower works... take the cup of water and dump it over your head.  Don't be like some other stupid gringos and try to splash in the bucket, he told us, his Spanglish almost incomprehensible.

We get the primo spot next to Coco's camper (photo credit: Gonzalo).

The bathrooms are the cleanest pit toilets I've ever seen.

The living room...

The lobby.

The artwork.

After we showered, we decided to make dinner in our camper.  Coco stops by to talk and to see if we need anything.  How do you feel?  Like a queen?  Absolutely.  A shower in the desert?  Yep, like a queen.  We decided to get a couple rounds of beer, and Coco zooms off on his ATV to fetch them, then came back to talk to us as we drank our beers.  We learned that 23 years ago, Coco came here by wheelchair with 10 pesos in his pocket and slowly built this empire.  He is 76 years old, swears like a sailor, and has more life and character in him than most people I know.

Sunset over Coco's Corner.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• The Pemex in Gonzaga Bay opens at 8am!

• I actually had the foresight to deflate my tires a bit to give me better traction since I tend to run my tires towards the upper end of the pressure limit on the road.  Just don't forget to re-inflate them once you hit pavement again.

• I am a beginner-intermediate mountain biker and tend to ride on the slow side... however, I have a lot of endurance so can ride for hours without stopping.  I think most cycle tourists, even with traditional set-ups, can make it from Gonzaga Bay to Coco's in a day.  It may not be the most comfortable, but it's doable and well worth it.  There is almost no traffic on this section, but we still had one couple ask us while we were on a snack break if we were okay.

• Coco has water, sodas, and beer... he offered to fill our bottles, but we didn't need it.  I think he has some limited food there, but it's best to bring your own.  If he isn't there, a family also lives in his empire... he took them in when they were kicked off another ranch and had nowhere to go.  Now they take care of him and he provides them a place to stay. 

Day 12: From Cinco Islas To Gonzaga Bay (Aka Paradise)

Sometime in the middle of the night, I heard our bikes fall, and I figured it was just the wind, which had picked up overnight.  However, we woke up to find that Gonzalo had accidentally left a few apples and some granola in his Revelate Designs handlebar feedbags and a lucky coyote had torn them apart.

After battling the wind to break down camp, we headed back up to Imelda's for breakfast, a simple but delicious breakfast of eggs, potatoes cooked with chorizo, beans, and handmade tortillas made from a mix of corn and flour.  Imelda actually rolls out her tortillas by hand and cooks them as you eat so you always have a hot tortilla at hand.  I also had the best coffee I've tasted this trip, which she made in a press and served with condensed milk.  I have a basic rule in Mexico... if there is REAL coffee, I order it.  This is because in the vast majority of Mexico, you can only find instant and when you do find REAL bean coffee, it's a luxury.

It was another blazingly hot day as we rolled out towards Gonzaga Bay and found the end of the road a couple kilometers before our destination for the day.  Literally.  The federal government is slowly working on building a highway that runs through the sand/gravel/rock road route that we decided to take.  According to Imelda, they are completing about 10 km a year, which means it should be done in about 5 or 6 more years.  She also told us that the reason why there are so many coyotes now is because of the previous construction of the highway through her section of the route... the road crew's leftovers attracted a large number of them and now they are a bit more desperate now that the crew has moved on.

It's the eeeeeennnnddd ooooofff thhhheeee roooooaaaad!

The road to Gonzaga Bay...

Once we got onto the sand/gravel/rock road, we had a bumpy ride to the military checkpoint, where we ended up chatting with the guys for about 15 minutes about our trip.  They didn't even attempt to check our bags.  They seemed like they were just bored and wanted to talk to anyone but each other.

We discovered that just before the turnoff to head into Gonzaga Bay to Alfonsina's, there is a very well stocked mini-super at the Pemex which has everything from wine to ice to water to groceries to a very nice girl working there who gave us some cucumbers dressed with lime and hot sauce.  We gulped down some cold sodas, filled our bottles and Camelbaks with ice, and headed down towards the water.

When people talk of Gonzaga Bay, they are really talking about a peninsula with a beautiful beach that hosts a couple dozen homes, a few palapas owned by Rancho Grande, and the iconic restaurant-hotel called Alfonsina's.  There is a tiny airstrip and I think it might be a requirement for the homeowners to own a boat.  It is a pristine, beautiful, and isolated getaway for expats living in San Felipe and Mexicans alike.

Taking in the view from Alfonsina's... the staff here was super nice and we ended up chatting with a few of the women from the kitchen in the lovely shade of the porch while we waited for the hottest part of the day to pass (photo credit: Gonzalo).

We splurged on a wonderful chipotle fish lunch and beers at Alfonsina's... it was delicious but was definitely "American" prices. 

I took a lovely solo walk down the beach while Gonzalo rested his injured foot and took a nap at Alfonsina's... the tiny buildings are just about all the civilization there is here.

This little strip of beach appears to reach the adjacent island at low tide... I wanted to explore, but only had my flipflops on.

Instead, I went and played in the water!

I spent the afternoon basically just soaking in the views and walking along the beach in both directions from Alfonsina's and met a few interesting folks.  I asked an American guy who owns one of the homes to see if there was a good place for us to camp.  He directed me to a nice spot right on the beach that was public property and where he had seen others camping before.  Then we chatted a bit about the nomadic lifestyle.  He actually owns homes in Bolivia and Mexico and was packing up to head to Colorado to sell his home there, and figure out where he and his wife wanted to move next.  On my way back to Alfonsina's, I ended up talking to a woman who had actually windsurfed her way down the California coast solo in her youth.  It's nice to know we're not the only crazy ones...

We met this motley crew of expats who were from San Felipe and various parts of California while having a beer at the end of the day.  They offered to share their fish appetizer with us and we gladly accepted.  The guy in the middle had actually done a 1200 mile bike tour "back in the day" across parts of Canada.  Apparently he lost 20 pounds in the 20 days it took him to bike that route.  

As the sun started to set, we decided it was time to go set up camp and make dinner.  We finished our beers and reluctantly gathered the energy to set off down the beach.

Common sight behind the homes on this strip!  We camped just past this plane and last house.

View of the moon rising over the water from our campsite.

Another perfect beach camping spot... we stayed up for a bit to talk and to enjoy a well needed escape from the heat.  As Gonzalo put it "I really like the night, it's like the shade of the earth."  Indeed.

A few travel notes for cyclists:

• The Pemex at the juncture where you turn off for Gonzaga Bay/Alfonsina's is very well stocked.  They sell all sorts of canned food, pasta, rice, beer, wine, and even some produce.  They also sell purified water from a tank, so you can just fill your bottles, tell them how many liters you took, and get a great discount.  We only paid 27 pesos for 12 liters.  If I had known this prior to planning this section, I would not have packed so much food!

• Alfonsina's has American prices for both accommodation and food, but it's worth heading there for a beer to socialize, have a nice place to take in the view, and to take advantage of a decent flush toilet.  They also appear to have showers there, though I'm not sure if they cost anything.  If you are on a budget, get some groceries at the Pemex and cook at camp.  Also, if you are desperate for internet, Alfonsina's has a satellite internet connection that appears to be available for use at a price.

• A great wild camping spot is between the end of the houses right as you arrive to Gonzaga Bay and the palapas.  There is a small empty section of the beach that is owned by Pemex (which is government owned and therefore public) near a generator surrounded by a fence.  It is accessible from the gravel road, so you only have to drag your bike through the sand a short distance.  The land on either side is "private" so we just pitched our tents on the beach right in front of the generator, and locked our bikes to the fence there, with no problems.