The next few days we eased into Baja time which generally means slowing down the clock. The morning ritual went something like this, make coffee, run the dogs on the beach, and then either fish off the point, go clamming in the shallows or in my case look for surf at some of the points to the south.
The fishermen of our clan pulled in some nice sea bass and a bunch of large clams that were immediately cut up and made into cerviche. Jan also hooked a decent size Sea-bass which was delicious and ended up in our fish quesadillas.
One morning Mary and I found a nice right point with only a couple longboarders and fun lined up waves. We also scouted out some other potential surf spots for future expeditions.
After few days of we noticed an ominous group of storm clouds coming in from the west. We made a group decision to pack up and head further up the coast to hopefully skirt the storm.
Checking the Baja California Almanac , it looked like it was possible to access the paved road far to the north by following the dirt roads up the coast. This was a route Jan and I had discussed on an earlier trip and were itching to try.
We packed up the trucks, cranked down the rooftop tents and headed north up the rutted jeep trail. We passed miles and miles of untouched beaches which begged to be explored so it was really hard to focus on the trail. Of course having Mary say “Keep your eyes on the road!” helped.
Around midday we decided to stop and set up camp at a picturesque spot near a lighthouse and a long stretch of beach. Since Alban and Paul had left 10 feet of snow in Austra they had no problem jumping in the freezing cold Pacific.
Next morning we continued up the coast before veering into the Baja desert.
Deep in the desert we startled a herd of wild burros that briefly raced along side our Landcruiser. The leader of the herd was all white which was pretty cool. They quickly disappeared behind some rocks so we missed our photo opportunity.
The jeep road which had been fairly good up to this point took a turn for the worse when it hooked towards the coast. The super narrow, muddy trail was sandwiched between a large hill and a deep river that emptied out into the ocean.
I tried to get traction by putting a tire on the drier hill side which immediately started the Landcruiser sliding sideways towards the river. Not a good idea . I straightened out, gunned the motor which kicked up gobs of mud and slipped past the white knuckle narrow section.
Michael followed me in his large Tundra, which was amazing considering how much wider his truck is. Jan and Jeff engaged their lockers which seemed to help a bit but nevertheless it was a scary section of trail.
We ended up in a small fishing village, blood slowly returning to our knuckles, and followed the trail back into the desert.