Baja Norte

Quick photo update. Sort of in order. Currently taking a day to rest in Guerrero Negro after back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back days of desert pedaling.

Baja Gothic

Our first evening in Mexico. So clean. So clueless. 

Spectating a very sketchy takeoff. We can only assume that he landed somewhere safely.

La Misión 

Strange, but relaxing campsite. 

Part waterpark, part campground. We received some not-so-savvy intel about camping here. Long and the short, we paid a premium for the water slides but left before they opened. 

Dinner and dirty shorts, mmmm.

Moments before this moment, the Coca Cola truck in the background passed another semi taking up both of the oncoming lanes and leaving us pulling cactus thorns in the ditch. We both swore oaths to never touch the stuff again the rest of the way into town. Sun blasted and staring off into space outside the mercado a local man stuffed a 1.5 liter (!!) bottle into my hand, ignoring my protests as he gestured to his own 1.5 liter. Oath broken, near tears at his generosity and left to sift through the levels of irony for the remainder of the evening's ride. 

No idea where the dirt ends and tan begins.

Surf timeout at Cuatro Casas Hostel. The owner's been off the grid, running this place for 35ish years.

Surf spectator zone.

Aidan and Sanchez had the place to themselves allllllll morning.

The waves got better and better throughout the morning, but the camerawoman grew tired of her perch on the bluff. :)

San Vicente. One of many snack pit stops.

After the eight mile surf detour on 4WD roads/sand, we were delighted to get tossed around next to farming equipment and barbed wire on the way back into town. Gracias senor!

First official push of the trip. Soft, deep sand. A little insulting after a long day, but refreshing to get off the main road.

Our gracious Warmshowers host in San Quintin, Gabino. We left fed, rested, showered, laundered and full of optimism that there are more people like Gabino in this world. 

Gabino's fresh fig bounty.

A scene all too familiar these past few days. On the far left, a trucker memorial complete with the hood of his cab and prayer candles. The mangled guard rail and "curva peligrosa" to the right, and the remains of the cab itself, below. With no one interested in cleaning up the pieces that don't have value the debris remain to complete an almost complete scene and haunting roadside reminder. 

Navigating prickly terrain in search of a good tent site.

The real question is what haven't we wrapped in a tortilla at this point...?

Impromptu bike stand.

Enthusiastic about dromedary bag shower.

Blocking out the last hour or so of blazing sun before setting up camp.

Watch. Your. Step.

Quiet, peaceful, private nook complete with an incredibly starry sky.

Some people just aren't cut out for life on the road.

We rode past this the day after watching local news coverage of Trump's visit to Mexico. Trust levels are understandably low at the moment. Thanks-but-no-thanks for making the trip a little more tense, Don.

We've been carrying roughly two gallons of water each through desolate areas. With added weight comes added piece of mind. Every so often a roadside oasis appears and we take a break from our hot water reserves to chug an ice-cold bev. 

And lastly, THIS.