Trip Report: Stage 1 - Baja California

California to Patagonia: A Cycling Expedition
Trip Report
Stage 1 - Los Angeles, CA to La Paz, Baja California del Sur
January 1, 2008

* Pictures from this part of the trip can be found here.

Happy New Year 2008!

It is now Day 32 of my journey, and I am writing from the beautiful coastal town of La Paz in Baja California. Baja is truly a land of contrasts. Since taking my first steps in Tijuana nearly a month ago, I have experienced extreme heat and freezing temperatures, beautiful landscapes and disgusting trashpiles, coastlines and mountainscapes, deep class divisions, extreme poverty and affluence, and moments of anxiety coupled with whooping high-fives.

After saying the most difficult farewells I have ever had to live through, I rode away from my mother's front door in Los Angeles on November 30, 2007 drenched with a million questions and raindrops. Crossing into Mexico a few days later was the first time I ever subjected myself entirely to the adventure and unpredictability of traveling solo in an unfamiliar place. Self-propelled and self-driven, I now started to look for whatever refuge and reassurance I could find in my poor Spanish and complete uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Fortunately, I quickly discarded the flood of "What the hell am I doing with my life?" type questions and occupied myself with more important matters, like figuring out which road led South, where to get food and water, and nervously forgetting the words to "Let it Be."

Starting out on a mellow pace through Ensenada, I stayed each night with new and old friends, knowing that after departing from Ensenada, the landscape would change dramatically and the desert would vastly overshadow towns and pueblos. For most of the ride through Northern Baja, I was drenched with heavy rains and unrelenting headwinds. Through it all, however, I remain grateful because crossing into Mexico offered me a glimpse into the beauty of random crossings with random people. For more detailed accounts of the ride through Northern Baja, please check out some of the earlier posts in my journal.

Changing time zones for the first on the trip, Baja California del Sur marked my favorite sections of the Peninsula. From the string of historical missions, to the beautiful beaches along the Bahia de Concepcion, to the rugged mountains of the Sierra de la Gigante, I found myself stopping more often for photos and becoming much pickier about selecting the prettiest campsites. Most of all, however, I continued to cross paths with an incredible array of new friends. As I was cursing the wind and taking a break by the side of the road in the grim vastness of the Vizcaino desert before San Ignacio, I met the first cyclist heading the same direction as I. We exchanged a few words and made empty comments about the weather. Then we continued riding together, and between the gusts of semis and trucks threatening to drive us off the highway, I got to know Damian Lopez, an Argentinian scientist who started his ride in Alaska and is heading home to Argentina.

Damian's classic porteno charm and endless repertoire of stories made the remaining 90 kilometers of what was already a difficult day pass by much faster. We quickly grew to become good friends and tacitly decided to ride together for a while. I benefited a lot hanging out with him, and was exposed to much more interesting conversations in Spanish beyond my limited abilities with simple verb tenses and basic topics. Forming a formidable duo now, it was a pretty comical situation, because almost everybody we encountered would think that he was a gringo and that I was a Mexican. Of course, I just played the role of the quiet, laconic dark-skinned guy, while he blabbered off convincing everyone that he was from Argentina.

Just like the classic story of Ernesto "Che" Guevarra and Alberto Granada biking across South America, Damian also taught me an important lesson that with enough sweet-talking and charm, one could find a free place to stay just about anywhere in Latin America. Previously, my strategy was to camp in cactus patches, or when there was sign of meterological funkiness, to ask the local police station for a roof. This didn't always turn out to be the best because police stations weren't always the most peaceful of places to crash in for the night because of their close proximity to the noisy highways. With Damian, not only did we win the hearts of many local ranchers with our stories, but they were always kind enough to either offer their home or recommend a safe spot for the night. This was also a great way for me to make new friends and involve myself in much more interesting conversations than the ones I would previously have. A well traveled cyclist and academic alike, I also discovered in him a brother I looked up to a great deal, and he gave much valuable advice on the road ahead, on bike maintainance, and on how to curse effectively in Spanish.

We continued riding to the Sea of Cortez, passing through San Ignacio, Santa Rosalia, and Mulege. There, we met Amber and Duhane, a Canadian couple riding their bicycles to Cabo San Lucas from Canada. The four of us thus formed what we dubbed "Critical Mass Baja" and rode together as a force to be reckoned with until the end of the day, where we found Playa Santispac, a beautiful cove tucked away on the Bahia de Concepcion. Without much discussion at all, we rode right into a string of empty palapas by the beach and decided to take an extra rest day here. Between kayaking on the warm waters, lazing around all day, and dancing away at an aging 60's hippie party nearby, it was a relief to finally be spending more time in the sea than in the saddle.

Then, as Christmas was drawing near, I set my sights on La Paz, which was still over 400 kilometers away. The group we formed thus split up thereafter, as we all had to maintain a different pace to accomodate our goals for the road ahead. We planned to meet again in La Paz, and so throwing my leg over the crossbar, I pedaled solo into the hils again. I eventually reached Loreto, the first permanent colonial settlement in Baja. As I was wandering around the scenic plaza with no clue as to where to go, I ran into Diane and Lee, who graciously offered me a warm shower and a place to stay in nearby Nopolo. They were among the few traveling Americans thus far who expressed an interest in my trip; the majority of whom just whizzed by in their RV's, occasionally tossing an angry honk while the Mexican truckers were kind enough to provide a much wider berth on the road.

Riding skywards from Loreto, I climbed up a precipitous grade over the Sierra de la Gigante, and after a two more days of crosswinds, cactus patches, and more flat tires, I finally rolled into the windswept bay of La Paz on the 23rd. The relaxed atmosphere along the Malecon - the local paseo over the waterfront boulevard - and the urban sophistication of the city were a welcome commencement to the first stage of my journey. I met Josie and Marie, two vibrant French Canadian sisters (whom I initially mistook as nuns, thanks to the ambiguity of language), and they introduced me to the town and my accomodations. I have since been staying at my friends Davida and Sid's home. After the rugged 1800 kilometer journey which offered rare opportunities to shower, do the laundry, or listen to music, Davida and Sid's place was a godsend, and I am infinitely grateful for their kindness.

Much to my chagrin, however, La Paz, as beautiful and tranquil as it is, was also the place where I had my first experience of theft. Sometime through the veiled darkness of night, someone managed to climb over the front gate of the house and stole my Chaco sandals, one of two pairs of footwear I brought to live with over the next few years. Fortunately, my bicycle and the rest of my gear were safely tucked inside the house, which they were not able to enter. I grieved the next day and vowed to abandon my Nepali ethic of always leaving my shoes outside a home. Never again...

So I'm here in La Paz for another two weeks or so learning Spanish at a local language school. I have kept myself busy exploring the local surroundings and getting comfortable speaking Spanish. Josie, Marie, and a host of new friends here have been incredible at keeping me inspired with their warmth and camaraderie.

The next stage of the expedition will take me across the Sea of Cortez via sailboat to Mazatlan, where I will continue South to the state of Colima along the Pacific Coast. After a much anticipated encounter in Colima with the man who changed my father's life (stay tuned to hear the rest of this tale!), I will continue to Mexico D.F and climb Pico de Orizaba, the highest mountain in Mexico.

The web-site is still undergoing improvements, so please stay tuned as it blossoms to its desired state. As always, email is still the best way to keep in touch, so feel free to write to me at any time. I may not be able to respond right away or write as much as I would like to write, but please know that I think of all of you a great deal during those long moments on the road.

Thank you for taking this journey with me, and I hope you're enjoying the ride as much as I am.

Here's to sending my warmest vibes and positive thoughts for the New Year!

Expedition Statistics

Distance Cycled: 1827 km
Days on the Road: 32 days
Days riding: 20 days
Average daily distance: 91.35 km
Flat Tires: 11
Dog Chases: 93, and counting...


Acknowledgements

Pam: For riding the first, and most difficult miles with me despite the rains, tears, and soaked jeans.

Alex, Iris, and Ivan: For hosting me on my first night of the journey and for the dinner at my favorite restaurant: The Wheel of Life, a vegan restaurant in Irvine. Also, many thanks to Alex for riding to Oceanside with me the next day - it was tough keeping up with you, but I did it!

Tammy Jackson: For your amazing friendship! Thanks for letting me crash at your place and for the tour of UCSD. The champagne went down with glory in Tijuana, and the food was healthier than anything I've found to date in Mexico!

Tank and Sablove: For riding with me during my last day in the US, and seeing me off in Tijuana. I'll miss you guys a lot!

David Roman: For hosting me in Tijuana and for making me feel comfortable in the big city.

Rob Cochran: For all the cervezas, conversations, and compassion you shared during my stay in La Mision.

Bianca Cinelli and Blanca: For hosting me in Ensenada, for the delicious meals, and the homey-atmosphere that I miss so much!

Javier: For waking me up at 3am and scaring the shit out of me, only to invite me to coffee at daybreak and share conversations that I would never have had I not taken this trip.

James: For being the only person to date who stopped at the side of the road to offer assistance while I was fixing a routine flat tire.

Fernando, Elsa, and Juan: For making my stay in El Rosario absolutely unforgettable, even though you may never read this!

Doris and Klaus: For inspiring me and convincing me that you're never too old to LIVE!

Damian Lopez: For everything bro! Crossing paths with you has been one of the best parts of my journey yet, and the best part is that this is just the beginning!

Marco Antonio, Eduardo, and the rest of the crew at Rancho Nuevo Crucero: For the tacos, the drinks, the stories, and the floorspace.

Duhane and Amber: For sharing the ride, the camps, and the smiles while our paths briefly crossed!

Diane, Lee, Peter, and Shona: For your generosity and kindness in taking care of me in Loreto Bay.

Josie and Marie: For continuing to make my stay in La Paz so unforgettable, and for living your lives so passionately in the things you believe in!

Davida and Sid: For so so much! My stay in La Paz has been incredible, and I'm honored to share this road with friends like you.