Crossings in the Baja Desert

If By Chance You Meet a Friend
- Alexa Goldfarb, moontriber and fellow visionary

If by any chance you meet a friend in the desert...
hold that friendship sacred.
For it is a rare and wonderful thing to spy a creature such as yourself
in that space...
a rare and wonderful thing indeed.
And as you grow in that friendship and love, you will become like a
magnet for others ready to connect with you in their own unique way.
And if you respect each new connection as the first, there will continue to be
Joy in the sight of each other...
as if you were seeing for the first time.
Comfort in each other´s company...
like family.
And within that bond there will be
Growth and strength
Support and forgiveness
Laughter and affection
Kindness and generosity
And it will all seem so familiar...
and new at the same time.

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These words seem appropriate now that I have crossed the longest and most remote stretch of desert into Baja California del Sur, crossing the 28th Parallel, officially the furthest point South I have ever been in my life.

If Baja California ever boasts of perfect weather, I will be the gendarme that stands up to declare otherwise. Since my departure from Ensenada, the skies wreaked havoc with rain and heavy winds for five days! That meant five days of rising up to mournful and malicious clouds, and searching deep within myself whether to ride that day or not. Fortunately, I had enough strength and resolve through three of those storm-days to battle headwinds and spin against mud-soaked streets. Perhaps it was for the better, however, that the virtues of patience and reason convinced me to stay put for the other two storm-days. The first, as you know, was in Ensenada, and the second was in the sleepy little Mexican pueblo of El Rosario. I´m probably alive today because of these two forced ¨rest¨days.

Needless to say, the most frustrating thing during that week of the storm was how muddy and filthy it got everything. I spent each evening tending to Bucephalus´chains and dérailleurs, only to find them speckled with mud and grit the next day. I´m happy to report, nonetheless, that as I write now from Guerrero Negro in Baja California del Sur, that both of our gears and bearings and muscles, and hopefully our minds, are all in working order. The weather has also finally cleared, giving me three days of sunshine to help me cross the first of three trans-peninsular desert crossings.

Everyday has been an eventful one thus far, and each moment of this journey brings me to new and adventurous experiences - from my camp sites each night, to the ride itself, but most vividly, the cast of characters I have encounterd along the way have been unbelievably incredible, thus the poem I started out this post with. Crossings in the desert are truly special.

First there was Bianca, in Ensenada. Then, while finding shelter from the nightlong rain in an old abandoned building just outside San Vicente, at 3am in the morning, a figure startled me with a whistle (it seems, everyone here whistles to catch people´s attention, especially when good looking women are involved). After clutching on to my trusty blade and being thrown to full alert, I realized that he was just as startled as I was and that his was a whistle of alarm. I spent a few moments with my still-broken Spanish getting to know Javier, who lived inside a ramshackled house across the field from where I was. He couldn´t sleep and was in a mood to talk, and so we did. He turned out to be unbelievably kind, and was very patient as I explained my journey to him. He told me his story of growing up in Michoacan and coming to Baja California for work. In what struck me as the most genuine display of friendship, he invited me to his home for coffee and breakfast as the sun broke through the clouds in a fiery display of dawn. We spent hours that morning sharing stories, and as soon as the rain lulled around 10am, I hesitantly departed San Vicente, still shocked at this guy´s hospitality!

Then there was Fernando in El Rosario, who engaged me in a lively conversation about God and religion as I was waiting out the storm. Again, inviting me to his little home overlooking the desert, I felt incredibly touched that complete strangers would take the time to get to know me and listen to my miserable Spanish. That same morning, as I was having breakfast at Senora Elsa´s loncheria, the trickle of rain from the morning turned into a veritable flood, bringing the whole pueblo to a wreck. Her little makeshift loncheria was flooded and as her husband frantically shoveled dirt and gravel to channel the water away from their meager belongings, I felt like I was finally taking part in a story of struggle, triumph, and celebration. They explained to me that a storm of such ferocity had not hit Baja for over five years. Regardless, I am thankful I did not ride that day, not just for being alive today, but also for meeting Fernando and Elsa.

The next day, I stocked up on food and water to attempt a crossing of the vast Baja desert. Through post-storm crosswinds and endless hills, I rode into Catavina. The landscape was magically transformed to a rich harmony of giant boulders, huge cardon cactus (which look a lot like Saguaros), Boojun trees (which look like stringy Christmas trees), and Cirios (which look like inverted carrots with flowers coming off the end!). When I finally figure out how to post pictures, I hope these childish descriptions come to life.

That night, and every night in the desert thereafter, I drifted off to sleep beneath a blanket of innumerable stars. With the sweet smell of verdant sage, I was flooded with a wave of memories and emotions - from an endless summer in the Sierra Nevada courting the Milky Way each night, to that special night in the Black Rock Desert with my dear friend Natalie, as the constellations we traced guided each other´s eyelids along the slow and meandering path to slumber.

Amidst the boulder fields and flora of Catavina, teary and exuberant, I thus proclaimed that any place I would ever choose to settle in would be bathed in the symphony of starlight and the simple harmony of sagebrush.

Fortunately, my journey onward from Guerrero Negro bids well - there are two more major desert crossings, a string of historic Baja missions, and beautiful stretches of beaches along the Sea of Cortez I hope to camp on.

Most of all, I await more crossings in the desert and more experiences that seem all too familiar and new at the same time. Amidst it all, thoughts of friends and family and home abound during those long stretches of riding.

If the winds bode well and the hills are kind, I will likely be arriving in La Paz around Christmas time.

Until then, here´s to wishing you all a Merry Christmas.

Happy Trails,
Japhy

Serenading Ensenada

Day 4:
San Diego, CA to Tijuana, Mexico

Day 5:
Tijuana to La Mision
48 km

Day 6:
Las playas de La Mision y Santa Anita

Day 7:
La Mision to Ensenada
54 km

Day 8:
Ensenada

Total flat tires to date: 4

The past few days transported me from the comfortable environs of the US to Mexico.
After bidding adieu to my friends Sablove and Tank in downtown Tijuana, I spent my first evening with David, a medical student at the local University. My second day in Mexico turned out to be the hardest riding day yet! The road leading out of Tijuana was extremely narrow and big rigs zoomed inches away at a clip that seemed to shake every pebble on the non-existent shoulder! This is also where I got my first taste of frequent flat tires from the debris and scraps on the side of the road. After leaving the dust and pollution of Tijuana, the world opened up and each kilometer brought more smiles. I spent the next night at Rob´s, a couchsurfer in the beautiful coastal town of La Mision. As I was preparing to ride out the next day, one look at the 15 foot waves at the beach, and an inviting grin from Rob with a 6 pack of Pacificos convinced me to spend the day relaxing at the beach and walking around the beautiful pueblo. He introduced me to his friends and it was a wonderful experience practicing my Spanish and getting to know the community.

The ride to Ensenada, although an easy one, presented me with a foreboding warning of malicious weather ahead. Riding through strong headwinds, the day was overcast and cloudy all day, and it was a pleasure to see Bahia todos Santos and Ensenada across the distance. I met up with Bianca, my last couchsurfer for the Baja Peninsula and we spent the rest of the day meandering through Ensenada sampling the best anti-tourist holes and local marisco stands. Bianca is a high school senior with an unlimited enthusiasm for psychedelic trance and we hit it off right away. We drifted late into the night hanging out with her friends, wandering the streets, and making fun of my broken Spanish. The next day I opted to take another rest day, as dawn brought a spell of nasty Southerly winds and heavy rain. It looked like another weather system was moving in, so it was not a difficult decision to continue spending time with Bianca and her sweet mom, Blanca. I was invited to a psy-trance party, but deflected that offer instead to spend more time with Bianca´s friends who were in a punk-ska-cumbia band (imagine that!).

It was difficult leaving Bianca, whom I now call my hermanita... or ¨cachetita¨. She leaves for Sweden next year for college, and she shared her anxieties of leaving her home community with me. Bianca made my stay in Ensenada unforgettable, and I´m happy to be able to have connected with her and hear her stories and perspectives on life.

This morning I leave Ensenada, despite lingering clouds and light showers. It has been a mellow past few days, and I´m looking forward to more spirited riding ahead. This may be my last post for a while, until I get to somewhere comfortable enough to spend a few moments on the internet. The messages of love and encouragement I have received from everybody have been invaluable - I got my first pangs of missing home as I felt lost and confused in the dizzying vortex of what the Spanish world sometimes seems to be. My Spanish is being challenged each day and I feel an inward and outward growth each day.

But now, its time for the road yet again... I´ll be praying for tailwinds, wide shoulders, and strong tires, even though these may be grand illusions rendered amiss next to the beautiful magnitude of the Pacific.

Que te vaya bien,
JD

Day 3: San Diego, CA

Day 1:
Los Angeles, CA to Irvine, CA
58 miles

So I left Los Angeles on a day of epic rains - I couldn't have asked for a better day to start this journey. The rains cleansed the city of its detritus and I felt a renewed vigor with every splash of water on my face. Sans-fender, I loved riding through the city drenched with life. It was very difficult leaving home; watching my parents disappear in the distance, and crossing the threshold at the edge of town were moments that really made me reflect on the gravity of my decisions.

Pam rode her bicycle to Long Beach with me, which made a lot of things easier. Laughing and then crying, and then reminiscing days gone by, I was very happy to have her along the first few moments of the voyage.

I ended the day fording through heavy streams and fertilizer run-off in the Irvine wetlands. It was how I imagined some of the more eventful and challenging days to be like. I spent the evening at Alex's place and had dinner at my favorite vegan restaurant, The Wheel of Life.

The night ended with my mind spinning in thoughts of the day, friends, the night before, the trials coming up, the lessons coming up. I felt ready. It was good.


Day 2:
Irvine, CA to Encinitas, CA
75 miles

Alex rode with me to Oceanside, reminding me how sluggish I was with my 42 lbs of gear trailing behind me. His exuberant personality and warm company kept me smiling the whole day, as we enjoyed a perfect post-storm ride day. The clouds billowing against the horizon and lazily sauntering over the nearby hillsides made for an image of dramatic contrasts. A swift tailwind propelled us down the road and the crisp air was a blessing beyond measure.

My first fall, a spill down a muddy wash left me looking like a hardcore adventurer. My clothes dirtied and my bike well worn, I was now savoring everything about being on the road.

I spent the evening at San Elijo State Beach with two other bicycle travelers: Aaron, who was riding from Seattle to San Diego, and Bill, who started in San Francisco. I concluded that if every day of my journey turned out to be like this one, I think I made the right decision.


Day 3:
Encinitas, CA to San Diego, CA
26 miles

Met up with Sablove and Tank at UCSD and enjoyed a wonderful ride around La Jolla and Pacific Beach. The sky finally cleared up and it was finally feeling like Southern California again.

We ended my last day in America performing sun salutations as the sun dipped down the not-so-infinite horizon.