Mike’s Fish Tales

Mike purchased fishing gear before we left the States. He fished his way down Baja with only one edible fish, a sea bass, to show for his efforts.

He has continued to dip his line in the water in several of places we’ve stopped along the Pacific coastline.


When initially asking to buy bait he was met with incredulous looks from the locals who simply said, “Just go catch the bait on the beach.” Mike spent time digging for clams and caught one crab, but not before trying a bit of chicken and then a bit of pork on the line.


Chicken and pork do not make good bait. Digging for clams left him wet and bait-less.


Mike wondered what Jeff Schweitzer, avid fisherman and owner of Laughing Ladies Restaurant, would do. He bought camarrones (big ones!) that could double as dinner should he fail again.


Here is a picture of that night’s ‘Catch of the Day’. Delish!

Further along the mainland coast, using a lure, Mike had a big strike. We don’t know what kind of fish it was, but a local said it was edible and good to eat. They cleaned it for us for half the fish, and we had it for dinner that night.

So, we last left you in Celestino Gasco, just north of Mazatlan.



Mexico is a BIG country and we have traveled down Mex 200 along nearly the entire Pacific Coast. We’ve kept a pretty strong travel schedule, driving 150-200 miles a day, and then tucking into a beach for a night or two.


We let go of the dream of getting to Guatemala in time for my sister-in-law’s grandmother’s 100th birthday celebration on December 20th, though we still anticipate connecting with my brother’s family before they head back to the States.


It has been a string of beach after beautiful beach--each one having its own personality of waves, sand, views, people and vibe. We’ve enjoyed each location in its own way but after a while the heat and humidity started to melt our brains and we welcomed the left-hand turn into the interior of the country as we headed to San Cristobal.

We are now in San Cristobal and will be here through Christmas. It is a colonial city dating from the 1500’s and is at the heart of many different indigenous communities. The city is entirely walk-able and we have been exploring on foot for several days. We are staying in a great little campground on the edge of town with a bucolic feel. It is a sanctuary in a bustling city and we feel we are in a perfect spot to spend Christmas.

We wish all of our family and friends a Merry Christmas and all the best for 2010.


Trish and Mike

Eight weeks into our trip and I was in need of a haircut as a) I usually get my hair cut every 5 weeks, b) I do not have a blow dryer with me (Can you imagine?!), and c) We’ve hit hot, humid weather that increases the volume of my already-thick hair by a factor of three. It really was a bushy mess.


Yesterday we stayed in an RV park just north of Mazatlan. I could write volumes on RV parks & RV people but we’ve found them to be convenient places to spend a night as we press south.

Mike got up early and took Missy Chettie for a romp on the beach. I looked out the slider to see him engaged in conversation with some folks from Canada. (As an aside, among the RV crowd, we are seeing a 3 to 1 ratio of Canadians to Americans. Perhaps due to the economy or the bad press Mexico has gotten in terms of safety, the Americans seem to be staying home this winter.)

Okay, back to my hair. Once the coffee was made I headed to the beach and ran into the same people Mike had met. I asked the woman, quite impulsively, “You don’t cut hair, do you?” “Well, I cut dog hair.” “Really?”


I cajoled her into giving it a go.

Diane had all the tools of the trade: grooming scissors, electric razor, thinning shears, and even a smock that I suspect she usually wore when working on her clients but that she had me wear as she began. I’m sure she was more nervous than I.


While we were at it another neighbor came by and said, “Oh, I didn’t know you cut hair. Will you do mine?” This is how these things get started.


My hair looks great. I am relieved to be rid of all the weight of it. Several times during the day yesterday Mike looked at me and said, “You know, it’s really a pretty good haircut.”, “It’s really not that bad at all.”, And the left-handed compliment of, “You’ve definitely had worse haircuts.”

I just reply, “Woof.”

So what is a plan if not something from which to deviate? We have made many plans and promptly deviated from them over the last two weeks. I’ll spare you the details of each fork in the road as I try to catch you up on where we’ve been.

For those of you who don't need a travelogue, I'll just say we are having a great time. We've seen some beautiful places and met some interesting people. As each day passes we fall more into the rhythm of life on the road. We've met several travellers doing the same type trip we are doing and its fun to share experiences....sometimes just for a moment, other times for a drink, a meal or an evening.

If you want to know where we've been, here's the catch up travelogue:


Indeed, the wind blew at Punta La Gringa. And blew and blew and blew. Thought we were back in Salida. We were situated in such a way that the wind was coming across the bay and hitting the little van broadside. Buffeted we were. You had to lean into the wind if you went outside.

Finally, Mike and Chet went on a recon mission and we moved the van over a bluff and into the next cove north and were somewhat sheltered from the wind. New views!

Mike broke out the fishing pole and after catching a poisonous puffer fish, caught a sea bass that we filleted right on the beach and cooked for dinner. Delish!

We left the next morning with the wind still blowing and headed to Guerrero Negro. My expectations for this town were low and we were pleasantly surprised at the vibe. It had a beach-town feel and had every service one might need. We took advantage of the services and stayed at a hotel/RV park right in town the first night. Internet! Dinner out! Showers!


Guerrero Negro is located just inland from a large lagoon that is one of the breeding grounds for gray whales. There is a huge salt plant there that is the primary economy for the area, despite the tourists who come to watch the whales. We are a little too early for the whales which start to arrive later in December, but we did spend a night on the lagoon none-the-less. To get to the lagoon, we had to pass through the salt plant....really weird landscape and as close to a snowy scene as we'll probably get this winter.

Being ‘off season’, we had the lagoon to ourselves and it was beautiful.

From there we headed across the desert toward Santa Rosalia. We made a brief mid-day stop in San Ignacio which is a palm-studded oasis in the middle of the desert, situated on an underground spring that makes the town a lush anomaly in the cactus strewn desert. It has an old mission right on the plaza that was once the most successful of all the missions in Baja.

As we drove away from San Ignacio, we both had that wistful feeling when you leave a place you would have liked to explore more. On to Santa Rosalia.

Arriving in Santa Rosalia was a shock after being in so many isolate places. It is a bustling city on the Sea of Cortez, whose link with the sea is more about shipping than tourists on beaches. Moreover, it had been hit hard by recent hurricanes and the seemingly chaotic town was a bit in disarray.


After making a few laps up and down the streets, we realized some of the frenetic feel was coming from so much construction to clean up and rebuild some of what had been washed away. The streets are narrow and crammed with all kinds of shops.

Santa Rosalia is also one of the ports for the mainland ferry. Here we had a decision to make: continue lollygagging south through Baja and miss my brother and his family in Guatemala at Christmas, or take the ferry from here and keep that dream alive. We opted for the ferry, and promised ourselves that we would return to Baja and spend the time it deserves for exploration.

With our ferry plans in place, and with the ferry not leaving for two days we opted to backtrack to San Ignacio (about an hour drive) to really embrace the town. We both felt right about the decision to return and we enjoyed our time there as we knew we would.

We met a great couple from Germany traveling in a Eurovan (our vehicle made friends for us) and we camped together one night in San Ignacio. They, too, are headed for points south and we shared email/blog information in the off-chance we are in Panama ready to ship our vehicles at about the same time.

We arrived in Santa Rosalia for the second time ready for our over-night ferry crossing to Guaymas only to find that because of rough seas the ferry wasn’t leaving until the following morning at 6am. What to do, where to stay? We decided to camp in the parking lot of the ferry terminal—seemed like the thing to do for such an early morning departure. We were not the only ones camped out, but we were among the lucky ones who had their beds with them. Several people had arrived as walk-on passengers and had to spend the night in the terminal. Everyone was a little fuzzy the next morning. The ferry eventually left at 8am for the 9 hour crossing.

We were told Chettie had to stay inside the vehicle for the trip. I had heard some tragic stories of animals not surviving such trips and with tears in my eyes we left the windows open a crack, gave her plenty of water, locked the doors and went to the upper deck to find a seat. Imagine how I felt when she spied me taking pictures of the vehicle and began to whine.

Once on deck we saw another couple with a dog. We worked our way down to the vehicle and freed Chet.

Let’s talk here about rules. The captain of the ship was the one who told us our dog must be inside the vehicle, but once underway we were able to not only bring her with us but actually access our vehicle. We’ve taken several other ferry rides and never, ever have we been allowed back to where the vehicles are loaded.

Besides being a good thing for Chettie, it was a good thing for Mike, who tends to get a little queasy on rolly-polly ferry rides. He and Chettie spent most of the ride hanging out in the van. I hung out on deck, listened to my ipod and chatted it up with some of our fellow passengers, periodically checking in on my three traveling companions.

We were daunted by the prospect of landing in Guaymas, a fairly large port city at dusk. We knew of a couple of RV parks in San Carlos, north of Guaymas, but knew finding it would be a challenge in the dark. As luck would have it, we had connected with an ex pat on the boat who lived in San Carlos and he offered to lead us there. Not driving at night is one of our cardinal rules but the late ferry start left us no choice. It was a huge relief to have PJ guide us to a place to stay for the night.

You still with me? We’re almost caught up.

We spent the next night in Alamos, another one of those places that deserved much more time. Alamos is in the mountains, not at the ocean, and we loved the setting, the town, the vibe, the plaza and the market. We took some time in the morning before leaving town to shop for provisions at the local market with stalls selling everything from meat to veggies.


We are still hoping to meet up with my brother in Guatemala around Christmas and this is why we are pressing south. We are trying to mix a little exploration in with putting miles under the wheels. Mexico is a BIG country and we’ll have to keep moving in order to make the connection.

Tonight we are in Playa Las Glorias, with a great beach out our slider. It is yet another spot at which one could linger for a week or more. We’ll continue our journey as the calendar says it’s still possible.

For requests of 'more people pictures', I'll leave you with this:

Remembering Mancel

I was in Florida visiting my dad after my mom had passed away. I don’t remember the specifics of the visit: time of year, purpose or length of stay.


Our days were filled with a series of made-up errands like buying a new battery for his watch; stopping by the post office for stamps; perhaps lunch and, of course, a stop at the grocery store. We’d get the few things on the list and then, as we were leaving the store he’d say, ‘We forgot to get bread’ (milk, orange juice, fill-in-the-blank), thus giving us a reason to get out of the house the next day. It was a life and it was interesting to see how he had worked things out after losing his ‘best ole beauty’.


Late in the afternoon, once the errands were complete, I’d go for a run on the beautiful beach near their condo. My mom loved the beach but my father never really cared for it. Buying the place in Florida was strictly him doing what he thought would make her happy. And, indeed it had.

One afternoon as I was about to head out the door he asked in a meek voice, probably fearing rejection, if he could join me. Sure, I shrugged. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might want to come. And we headed out together, me in Lycra and him in a lightweight windbreaker with a couple of cans of beer under his arm.


At the beach I set off, welcoming the chance to process all the emotions that go along with losing a parent and building a new relationship with the remaining one and he settled on to a bench along the beach to watch the waves.

It was a beautiful sunset and there is a certain time of day when I can’t be near the water and not think of my dad that afternoon. He never cared for the beach but we shared a love of the ocean.

‘Finally, flip-flops!’
'How’s it feel?’
‘Fabulous.'

We left Salida a few days after a storm had dumped over a foot of snow in town. Old Man Winter was nipping at our heels. We thought, ‘It will get warmer as we head through the Utah desert, into California and we’ll be downright hot by the time we hit Southern California’.

The days in the desert were warm and pleasant. The nights were more than chilly. Several mornings we woke to find a bit of ice formed on Chet’s water bowl, and one morning her bowl was frozen solid. Yeah, Brrrrrrr.

We did get one day of shorts-weather around Las Vegas but by the time we hit Los Osos it was chilly again. Pleasant, but by no means hot. News of another Colorado snowstorm had the locals commenting on how much we must like their ‘winter’ compared to the cold and snow at home. We thought it was still pretty cold, especially at night.

Southern Cal was clearly warmer but the nights on the ocean were still chilly. As a testament to good marketing, Uggs are quite popular in Southern California. In a place you should never need to wear winter boots, many hipsters were sporting them, often paired with Daisy Dukes. Winter, indeed.

On into Baja….warm, pleasant days but, yes, still chilly nights.

I’ve been known to say, ‘I love a hoody.’ These words seem to have caught up with me, as we have worn our hoodies nearly every day since we left home.

For me, the hoody-lover, it was a tough decision: which hoody to bring. For a time, two were in the pile of clothes making the trip. But one got cut as our departure date neared and the reality of limited space set in.

For Mike, not a hoody-lover, the decision was more about whether to bring one or not. My ‘C’mon, don’t you love to pull on a hoody at the end of the day as the sun sets and the night gets chilly?’ had less to do with him bringing one than the fact that he had one on as we drove away from Salida

My Wild Women friends will know which hoody made the trip; it’s made almost every one of our outings in the last few years. I seriously doubt it will last our entire trip, so well-worn it is. Mike’s is a burly Carhart emblazoned with the DSI logo. It’s the only hoody I’ve ever known him to have, or wear.

Glad as we have been to snuggle into them as the temperatures drop, we were happier yet to put them aside and move into flip-flop weather. We crossed the Baja peninsula a couple of days ago, from Pacific Coast to Sea of Cortez, and upon arriving at Bahia de Los Angelos we instantly noticed the temperature difference. We were giddy. We reveled in the warmth. We shed layers. We put on sunscreen. We dug out our hats.

Only to wake this morning to a killer wind and white caps in the bay. Reluctantly, we reached for our hoodies…this is more weather than we’ve seen so far.

So, where have we been?


We crossed the border in Tecate, a sleepy border town east of Tijuana. It was a non-event as we were not even stopped, but just waived through by the border guard.

After about 5 miles we realized that we needed to get tourist cards and should have done so at the border. We turned around and went back to fill out the necessary paperwork.

Our goal for night-one in Mexico was El Rosario, recommended by some frequent Baja travelers as far enough south to be beyond the fray of Tijuana and Ensenada. We drove and drove and drove and decided to stop in Lazaro Cardenas, a town north of El Rosario by about 40-minutes. It was getting late in the afternoon and one of our cardinal rules is to be in camp before sundown. (It’s the cardinal rule most difficult to obey.)

The next day we headed to El Rosario after spending way too much time chasing errands in Lazaro Cardenas. Those who have traveled know that to-do’s take twice as long as expected.

An example of this is the tourist cards we obtained at the border. We got the cards at the border, but the customs officer there does not collect the $20 that must be paid to make the card valid. That must be done at a bank. The banks were closed as it was Sunday, so Monday that was on our list of to-do’s. Find the bank, wait in one line, be sent to another line, be sent back to the first line; the process took a lot of patience and over an hour of time. Finally, mission accomplished, on to the mercado.

After our to-do’s were done we headed to El Rosario. We spent a night in a remote spot on Bahia Rosario high on a cliff above the sea. It was not what we had expected and was a bit more remote than we anticipated.

The Burly Beast (our new most-favorite-name for the Westy) is in the left background.

Badly needing a few days of chill time, we headed back to Lazaro Cardenas and stayed at a place right on the ocean. Beautiful days spent fishing and walking on the beach and just generally unwinding.

Then we spent a long day crossing the peninsula through the Valle de los Cirios to Bahia de Los Angelos. Set up camp for another few nights at Punta la Gringa that has just the right amount of remote and secure.

Tomorrow we’ll break camp and head south to Guerrero Negro. Again, take some time to handle some to-do’s---internet, phone, provisions and laundry. And then head south again.


Posting on the blog is a challenge as I’ll have to compose on my computer, save it and some pictures on a thumb drive and then hope to be able to post the whole thing at an internet café. This post I am able to do from my own computer, the next will be a new experience. Stick with me as I sort out the process.

Best,

Trish


P/S People pictures. Yes, I know. We’ll work on it. Like Osama Bin Laden videos, I think my family wants to analyze the pictures to see if they’re real, determine when and where they were taken and confirm I’m alive.

Further in up the Road

With Chet's ordeal behind us, we headed back to Los Osos for round two of van work at Go Westy. On Monday they replaced the canvas in the pop-top and replaced the sky light. (Is it a sky light in a vehicle, or would that be a sun roof? It seems like a sky light to me.) The boys at Go Westy let us use one of their loaner vehicles while ours was being worked on: a 7 passenger vanagon named the Average White Van.

Chet really needed a bath after being in the vet cage for 2 days. If we could have found a hose we'd have done it ourselves, but being the vagabonds that we are we opted for a PetsMart. We let them know we just wanted to suds her up and didn't even need to have her dried. She's a water dog, remember, and she dries pretty quickly.

When we picked her up they had dried her after all and she looked like she had a bad perm from the 70's. Remember those? Super-frizzy. Think Chia Pet. She seemed embarassed. This picture doesn't capture the full effect, but maybe you get the idea.

Then we headed back up the coast to the elephant seal beach we had stopped at on our way to the fateful camping spot. These seals were great fun to watch. The males arrive in November and establish dominance. They belly-butt and make loud growling noises. The females arrive shortly after the males and they mostly lounge in the sun using their flippers to occasionally flick sand on their backs to help keep them cool.

Eventually the females give birth, they mate again (the males can have harems of 30-40 females) and then they head out to sea. They travel all the way to Alaska for the summer and return again in November. Way cool and hours of entertainment.

Though we liked the Los Osos area, we were ready to leave when the van was finished. We were starting to feel like locals as we began to recognize people around town. On Wednesday we headed south and stayed just south of Santa Barbara in Carpenteria.

We stayed in a state campground right on the ocean that had been recommended to us by some fellow travellers. We still don't know what they found so special about the place. The beach was nice, but, well, we just didn't feel the love for the town nor the campground.

Thursday we made the mad drive south through LA. Mike did a great job negotiating the traffic and we arrived at our destination by about 3:30. Again, we stayed at a state campground this time in Encinitas called San Elijo. Encinitas was a hip town, though bigger than I like. Great shops, great restaurants.

The campground was right on the ocean and full of surfers setting up for the long holiday week. 

Both Carpenteria and Encinitas were Urban Camping experiences. Backed by the freeway and with commuter trains passing just beyond the campgrounds, it was like nothing we've ever experienced and clearly a different vibe than the desert of Utah or even the woodsy campground in Los Osos. Other than surfing, we don't know why you'd stay there. Oh, except when heading south as we are.

No, I didn't surf as we were still checking things off of our to-do list and I think Mike would have left me there if I said I was going surfing.

Yesterday, we headed south again and stayed in La Mesa, about a half hour north of the Tecate border crossing with plans to cross into Baja today. Finally!

Thanks to all for the kind words about Chet's illness and recovery. She's doing great and is back to her usual playful self. Though we'll never know exactally what happened, we are keeping the ocean swims to short bouts and making sure she drinks lots of water afterwards.

Happy Thanksgiving to all,

Trish