Baja California

Uriel on the right

Man, I'm missing the Hotel Santo Tomas back in Ensenda. That was a palace! Here's a picture of Uriel who was invaluable in helping me deal with the Mexican Import authorities (We tried, my friend. We tried...) I hope to see him in Canada one day...


The room I'm in tonight in Rosario de Arriba is much colder than I expected, or am happy with. There isn't even a heater in the room.

I thought I'd just take my computer over to the restaurant attached to the motel office, but it's just as cold in there. I guess I haven't yet trained myself to look and ask for working heaters when choosing a place to stay…

Mountains of Baja

Other than the frosty fingers tonight, today was a wonderful travel day. Only about 25 kms of construction in the nearly 200 kms I rode today.

Jose, Elizabeth and little Robert

I met a lovely Mexican familiy on the way back north to their home in San Diego. Jose informs me to make sure I have extra fuel on hand while crossing the desert stretch up ahead, where the road crosses from the Pacific coast of the peninsula to the Gulf of California side.

Lickily I still have the 1 litre fuel bottle on the bike that I was using to carry camping stove fuel. Hmmm .. where I can empty that fuel to replace it with gasoline?

It's only an extra 20 or so kilometres of range that will give me, but acording to the map, there are settlements well within the range of my bike's 23L tank…

I guess we will see…

Along the road today I passed through two more military checkpoints, but was waved through each time. Since I will most certainly NOT be taking pictures of these checkpoints, I should explain them a bit.

Dusty streets of San Vicente, B.C.

There are probably about a dozen soliders visible as you approach these checkpoints along the road. All traffic must stop, and each vehicle is approached by a solider with an automatic rifle at his side. Off to each side of the checkpoint, set back about 10 feet from the road are little bunkers. Each is about the size of a couple porta-potty's standing together. They are surrounded by used tires, and inside sits one or two soldiers with really, really large mounted machine guns. The kind I used to really love seeing in those old Westerns when the hero surprises the bad guys and whips the cover off the wagon and, ta-da!, lays waste to all evil-doers with seemingly endless rounds spraying while he sweeps the big machine gun back and forth.

When you're on a motorcycle, in a foreign country, facing a language barrier and realize these soldiers, like soldiers everywhere, are mostly just boys with deadly toys .. suddenly the charm of so much steel and machismo is not quite doing it for me.

Like I said though, so far, I've only received a quick looking over, and been waved right through..

Not so for many of the folks that had been traveling the same stretch of road with me earlier. I don't know these people, or their stories, but had kind of grown fond of the guy in the blue Mazada pickup with the busted taillight, old tire in the back, with this little daughter playing hide and seek with me from the jump seat of the cab. I hope they made it through okay.

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Another lovely family on their way to the US. Junior, his wife (I'm sorry I forgot your name) and their almost 5-1/2 month old (off camera - still in her tummy!)

I wish you guys all the best! Cheers.



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Some video I shot today. I just pulled over to the side of Federal Highway 1 and panned around me. Not a single soul. Very peaceful, very nice. I think I'd like to come back one year and camp along this stretch of the coast during the warm summer months.