Loreto Mexico January 2015 | Home ...and then home again

On the road again. Yes we made it to California and to Santa Cruz, and I made it home to Edmonton. I am on the Red Arrow headed for Calgary for a birthday party.

A prairie sunset through a dirty bus window

But let me try to catch up on the drive home and some afterthoughts, and get some pictures posted.

Even though we thought we were on the outskirts of San Diego, we crawled our way through commuter traffic until things opened up on Highway 5, our main north-south route, managing to get through Los Angeles before the traffic again got too heavy.  The Central Valley is lined with vineyards from horizon to horizon: with 70% or more of California grapes grown here, it’s likely that the Napa or Sonoma wine you buy has grapes grown in this region. It looks very commercial; I watched with dismay the tractors pulling the chemical sprayers up and down the rows as we drove by. There’s just a hint of green on the vines. I’m watching for food crops (is wine not food?), to see what’s been planted (not much) and what is green. A crop of romaine lettuce, some strawberries in the ground but no plants yet and certainly no berries,  signs that point to future food sources, but not much to eat yet. We cut across to 101 and headed for Paso Robles, the centre of the Central Coast wine region made famous by the movie Sideways, and here the vineyards are smaller, but there’s also some familiar wineries, especially for us as we head north toward Santa Cruz. It’s a beautiful drive up from Paso Robles through the Salinas Valley and over to Watsonville and then to Santa Cruz.

It’s green here in Santa Cruz. Spring flowers are popping up, trees are pushing out their buds, and Margaret has her first tulip heralding the hundred or more she is expecting this spring.  A shrub-sized impatiens is bursting with pink blooms. She just picked a lime off the tree at the back door! Still, we need the heater going to stay warm, and Annie does too, and we are bundled up waiting for the midday sun to take the chill off the air. 

This was a tough 3-day drive, and although we don’t know how we might break it up differently, neither can we imagine doing that again. We logged 32 hours on the road over three days, and that’s much too much given the attentiveness required by the road conditions and mountainous terrain. We wouldn’t do it again. But would we go back to Loreto? We’re talking about it, but not sure. We obviously had a great time, and enjoyed the people and the town, but it’s eight days of travel at minimum for a four week vacation. Something to think about, for sure.  At the moment it’s just good to be home.

 

Loreto Mexico January 2015 | Just photos

Sunrise over Isla Carmen in Loreto

Desert cactus, crazier and crazier

Early morning fishermen headed for the wharf in Loreto

Wine country vineyards as far as you can see

A Baja sunset somewhere on the road to El Rosario

Poloa (left) and Luis at Delicias

Imelda and Alejandro at La Picazon

Loreto Mexico January 2015 | On the road...

It’s Sunday morning as we head out of El Rosario headed for Tecate and California. We had no idea what to expect in terms of travel time or border waiting time, but we didn’t expect to roll into the outskirts of San Diego in the dark, hungry, dirty and tired. It’s been a long day.

Neither of us remembers quite so many small towns between El Rosario and Ensenada. Apart from the up-and-over mountain driving, it seems there’s just one after another. Every town has its Apostolic Church, a Sunday market, a Pemex, and a bathroom! Being Sunday, there are busy people everywhere: men, women and children going to church, going to the market.

We obviously missed the rush, having arrived in January.  Today there are convoys of travel trailers coming at us on the narrow one lane highway, and truck after truck after truck hauling goods to and from the US and Mexico. Opportunities to pass are limited. That of course does not deter some. To all of you who asked about the drive, and to whom I said it was no big deal, I take it back. This section has some poor road conditions, and now at least, tonnes of traffic. Literally.

The high sierra gives way to an expansive valley, and we enter an agricultural area. It’s clearly a huge industry and we assume fuels the economy and feeds the population in all these small towns. Scanning the valley in every direction, you can pick out the white gleam of the sheds and canvases that protect the tender crops from heat or birds, we’re not sure which. This is where our food comes from. Those strawberries you will be rushing to grab at Superstore in March are in the ground now. They may be labelled Driscoll’s or Giant or some other Watsonville, California producer, but I guarantee that when we get there tomorrow the ground will be bare and brown. Their early product comes from right here in northern Baja Mexico. Here, the crops are in, many of the fields are green with vegetables, and a few berries are starting to show. We get occasional glimpses of the Pacific.

As we head out from Colinet, the road smooths out a bit, but then it returns to winding and climbing, the high mountains now blocking the view of the ocean. Here we go again. Bright yellow signs warning of sharp curves, speed limits jumping up to 80 then down to 40 and back up to 60. Did I mention the animal crossing signs? There’s one about every kilometre, and yes there are animals—cows mostly but also burros, horses and sometimes goats—along the side of the road. Fortunately the signs are more frequent than the animals! There’s a patch of nopales, ready to be harvested, cleaned, sliced and sold or eaten. It’s the soft green cactus sold as a vegetable that I like to add to a stir-fry or scrambled eggs. It soaks up as much butter and garlic as you can take. Sometimes you can buy it Edmonton at Lucky 97, ready to cook and eat.

Down we go again, from 250m to 150m. We can’t be far from Ensenada now. We just saw our first vinicola. La Cetto. They make a nice Cabernet. We are back up to 450m and climbing (you are getting the picture aren’t you?) There are 7 cars lined up behind a semi-trailer up this hill, now 6, now 3 including us, which means there are 4 vehicles in the oncoming lane passing the semi, and each other, racing to be out front. Whew. I’m glad that’s over with.

How quickly things change. We are sitting in front of Starbucks, drinking lattes. To the right is the Bank of Nova Scotia, and across from it HSBC and Burger King. Home Depot is across the parking lot, and Walmart across the street. We are in Ensenada. While Annie fusses, we enumerate our losses. The coffee is not the sweet smooth Chiapas coffee we came to love, there are no foamy happy faces to make us smile,  no chocolate swirls that say Carol and Margarita. No Luis to talk about his soccer match, no Poloa. Loreto is behind us.

We need to move on. We have 100 km to go and at this morning’s pace it will be midnite before we get to California. Once we get through Ensenada we will head up through wine country toward Tecate, the border crossing, not the beer. My turn to drive.

It’s at least two hours before we hit the border. Tecate is tricky but following the signs to the crossing we find ourselves at the bottom of a long hill lined with cars, single file. It is 430. We creep our way up the hill, while vendors pass by offering chocolate bars, nuts and candies, water and pop, tacos, tortillas, gum…those are just the ones I remember. Annie is howling in the back seat, and pawing at Margaret to get out. There’s nowhere to go. We read, we fuss, we fuss, we read. At 6:05 it’s our turn. We hand over our passports, he takes a quick glance at each of us, scans our passports, and we are breezed through immigration faster than I can say Canadian, eh.

California. We’d booked a hotel while sitting in line, so we set the GPS and trusted her to get us here. The night was as black as pitch, but we reckon the landscape didn’t chang much, and except for the double yellow cat’s eyes down the centre of the road, and a brilliant white line along the side, the road didn’t change much either. An hour later, we are here. One more day and we are in Santa Cruz.

Loreto Mexico January 2015 | On the road again...

We are on the road again. Left Loreto at the crack of dawn this am, but not before we made a couple of stops. First it was the malecon to give Annie a chance to poop and pee (she did both). The fishermen were on their way out and the sun was coming up over Isla Carmen. A couple of lazy sail boats hung in the foreground of the scene. Annie must have known she was leaving because she ran down the malecon, Margaret in tow, and howled at almost anything that came by. It’s a busy place in the morning: the city workers and shop owners are busy sweeping the streets, trucks are rolling by with boats on trailers, runners and dog walkers are all up in the early hours to get the day started. We headed for the drive-through at Ette’s pies (who knew) and then hit the road. It’s 740 km to El Rosario from Loreto and we have to be in by 7 pm or she will sell our room at Baja Cactus to someone else. That would not be good Mexican hospitality. So I’m writing this in the car, somewhere between Guerrero Negro on the Pacific coast with about 300 km to go. We just gained an hour, so it’s 1:41 pm. Lots of time (she said confidently).

Pause…

We’ve just gone through a military security checkpoint. Our third today. They’ve mostly been entertaining unlike the one we went through the other day on the way to San Nicolas. You queue up with the rest of the cars (buses, trucks, and trailers in separate lines), and wait your turn while a 20-year old in desert camouflage asks you where you’ve been and where you are going—not terribly officious though. This time he got a little personal, wanting to know where our husbands are. I proudly told him we are solteras (single), and Margaret added that we are viejas (old) at which point he dared to laugh! Then you drive forward for the inspección, which involves getting out of the car. After a cursory glance through the car, a chat with and about Annie, a few more jokes—they offered up their buddy for marriage—we are on our way. We encountered pretty much this same friendly attitude on our way down. Where are you from? Where are you going? Have fun. Except the day we went to San Nikolas. There they recorded the vehicle make and model, and the year (Margaret didn’t know),  asked for ID (she had none but they took mine), and were generally not very pleasant as they made themselves look busy inspecting the car. Annie usually gets a reaction but she’s tranquilla—they don’t pay her much attention and she ignores them. Just maybe one more to go and then we should be in El Rosario.

Back to the drive across the Baja. We had breakfast in Santa Rosalía at the same café where we found dinner on the way down. From this coastal town (the ferry to Guaymas comes in here) the Transcontinental heads up and over a summit at about 350 m. The road through the high sierra is well built but signs warn of the camino sinuoso and curvas peligrosas—winding it’s way around corners past arroyos climbing steadily until it finally opens into an expansive valley. You don’t need signs to remind you to drive carefully. There are enough shrines, crosses and plastic floral bouquets to remind you to keep your eyes on the road and a light foot on the gas pedal. Speed limits vary from 40 to 60 to 80, but we’ve yet to figure out what they all mean. We think 40 means a pueblo but we have no idea why the speed is slowed to 60 and of course they don’t tell you when to speed up again! Once in the valley it is amazing to see wide expanses of pancake flat desert for kilometres and kilometres (miles and miles) in every direction while never losing sight of the volcanic mountains on either side.

Guerrero Negro is not worth a stop so we are now headed north toward our destination. The valley has changed a lot since we came through here a month ago. Tall candle-like palm trees are blooming a mustard yellow. They have like a pineapple base, are bare in the middle, and then a bloom of yellow bursts forth on top. The low growth is richly coloured now, if you have time to look closely—which we do—because the roads here in th enoerth a narrow an the traffic is heavier than on our way down. We’ve just passed a big truck crrying regrigerated goods.  Just went over a small summit at 230 m, and we are heading down, around, and down some more. Another camino sinouso, and a vast eexpanse of desert, endless desert on either dide reaching to high sierra. The good news is tht you can see the raod for 2 km ahead, a nd watch for ccars and truks and bikes. OMG—it’s 25 degrees and theya re cycling up a long hill. Slow your speed curva peligrosa this is getting tough but I’m doing my best here. Jstay with me. The road is bumpy now with frequent speed bumps. Even the GPS is confused and keeps telling us to drie to our intended route. Wej’re not lost, the GPS is.  There are thousands of the oddest trees we’ve seen yet. They are like a skinny cone shapd with very odd needlelike leaves on them, that come out in bursts, but when they get tall they lean to one side like an old man who can’t quite stand up right. I read that they are not related to anything else. Loners I guess. Te vegetation does get taller as we head north, with many siguaros as tall as trees, and even some leafy trees that bush out and create shade, like a sombero. There are shrubs that look like pineapple tops and trees that look like bottle brushes, blooming cactus and others that look like octopuses with their multiple legs intertwining amongst twisted spiny  lbranches. There are sages and flowering bushes in every shade and tone of green imaginable. A stop. Annie needs to pee and so do I …oopes I mean I need to take some photos. Ymmm…carrot sticks.  They’re tasteless. Where’s the hot sauce?

“Please drive to highlighted route”. The GPS is lost again. How can you get lost in the desert? Maybe the satellite is lost. Our ETA is 6pm and I hope that’s right. That will make it a 12 hour day of travel, but it means a much shorter one tomorrow, especially if we sit at the border for a couple of hours. I need to call the hotel and I’m running out of power. ÈPlease drive to highlighted route. È

416 m and climbing. Now 530. Annie needs to poop. Guess how we know. I’m out of power and haven’t found the cord so if this post ends here assume we got there safely!

Pause…my turn to drive. 

Sorry can’t do both. Up and up to over 800 m and still climbing!  So I can’t tell you about the boulder fields and the pedragosa but I will later. Or post pictures when I have a decent connection. We made one quick stop to find out “how much longer dad” and to walk Annie AGAIN, and to pee AGAIN, and drive (straight) into the Baja Sunset (picture it), and we are here…in El Rosario with our lovely room, Annie in her bed between us so she doesn’t miss out on anything, eating gluten free carrot zucchini loaf from Pan que Pan in Loreto with bananas and peanut butter, and licking our fingers, and collapsing into bed.

Photos tomorrow.