Solo Trip to Baja Mexico - 2025
- rcl5011
- 21 hours ago
- 45 min read
Table of Contents
Intro
To me, Baja had always seemed like a place that was too remote, too far off the beaten path, and possibly just too dangerous, particularly for someone from the east coast of the US who was not familiar at all with desert riding.
The history of motorsports and the true raw adventure that exists in this part of the world became too much to resist after a while, and I soon found myself mentally committed, and genuinely obsessed with the adventure that would await me.
My approach to this trip was to time my arrival and time there with the start and finish of the Baja 1000. This way I'd be able to get the true experience I was after all in one shot. The 2025 Baja 1000 was to start in the middle of November. I began planning about 6 months in advance. I broke the planning process up into four primary categories.
Where am I going
What am I taking
Who's coming with me
What bike am I riding
Where Am I Going?
So many options exist that it was kind of overwhelming. To top it off, the baja 1000 course map would not be released until about a month prior to the race. This meant that I needed to be somewhat flexible on the itinerary, but ensure that I prioritized the trip primarily around the motorcycle adventure, and only secondarily around the actual race.
I wanted to do as much offroad riding as I could within the boundaries of what I could manage on an adventure bike. There's basically unlimited offroad options to ride in Baja. Being my first time down there, I decided to stick primarily to the portions of the Baja Divide Trail after doing considerable research on where and what to do. The goal would be to travel south along the Sea of Cortez, then head back north along the Pacific Ocean.
I had a weeks worth of time to devote to my travels, and so there was a lot of logistics to sort out with being at the right place at the right time to watch some of the race while also covering considerable ground. One full day I would devote to watching the race, while the rest of my time I'd be on two wheels and on the move. With only a week worth of time, and wanting to catch the race, I stuck to northern Baja routes only. After a lot of debate and research, I settled on the following as the itinerary:
Day 1: San Diego to Tecate (53 Miles)
Fly from Pittsburgh to SanDiego
Pack gear onto motorcycle
Travel along the Otay Mountain Truck Trail
Cross the Boarder BEFORE DARK
Sleep in Tecate at an Air BNB
Day 2: Tecate to Punta Estrella (227 Miles)
Leave Tecate Early
Follow the Baja Divide Trail down to Ojos Negros
Take Highway 3 to San Felipe
Take Highway 5 to Punta De Estrella
Day 3: Race Day, Punta Estrella to Catavina (150 Miles)
Leake Punta Estrella EARLY
4 hr ride to Catavina
Watch race in Catavina (Trophy Truck Leader Expected by 4pm)
Sleep at Rancho Santa Ines
Day 4: Catavina down Baja Divide to Chapala, back up to El Rosario (217 Miles)
Head just north of Catavina, hob on Baja Divide Trail
Ride the Pacific Coast and Loop back to Chapala
Take Highway 1 back to El Rosario
Day 5: El Rosario to La Bufadora (230 Miles)
Take Highway 1 North
Jump on Baja Divide Trail around Santa Fe
Arrive at La Bufadora to Camp
Day 6: La Bufadoa to San Diego (249 Miles)
Take Highway 3 in Ensenada back to Tecate
Cross the boarder
Head East on US 94 to Highway 8
Ride though Anza Borrego Desert State Park
Take Highway 79 Back to 8
Sleep at Rodway Inn San Diego Near SDSU
Day 7: Return Bike and Back to Pittsburgh
Drop off bike
Pack up gear
Catch a plane
I followed this fairly closely, but Day 4 and Day 5 had significant divergence from my original plan, which made the trip all the better.
I purchased detailed GPS maps from BajaGPSGuide.com opting for the Baja and Mexico E32 Topo Map.
It was an extra $100 I didn't want to spend, but I will tell you that I would have been in some serious shit at least twice on this trip if I had relied on the sparce Garmin North America map that the Zumo GPS units come with. The additional detail of terrain and non paved roads on the E32 maps saved me from spending a cold night in the desert while it was raining. Downside is these maps are not routable, so you will be following a track the entire time. WORTH IT.
What Did I Take?
I'll mention right now that I'm a minimalist and like to push things towards the bare minimum required to survive. That being said, water, and shelter were a priority.
What I brought:
Tools/Equipment:
Front/Rear Tube
Tire Spoons
Bicycle tire pump
Adjustable wrench
8, 10, 12, 14mm wrench
Zip Ties
Rope
Multi-Tool Pliers
First Aid Kit
Satellite Transponder (Garmin Messenger)
This was a real life saver and would highly recommend this or something similar)
GPS (Garmin 390LM)
Battery Pack for Phone/GPS
Food:
4 Dehydrated backpacking meals
Tuna fish packet
Spork
Collapsable Bowl
MSR pocket rocket burner and fuel tank
Two water bottles + hydration Camelbak
Titanium cook set from Snow Peak
Shelter
ENO double nest hammock
Sleeping pad
Cold weather sleeping bag good for 20degF
Pillow
Tarp
Child's tend that can barely fit one person sleeping diagonally
In case there's nowhere to hang a hammock
Planning to never need this
Clothing
Jeans
Thin hiking khaki type pants
A few T shirts
Two long sleeve shirts
Two quarter zip warm sweaters
One rain jacket
One Hoodie
Motorcycle Jacket
Two pairs of Motorcycle gloves
Helmet
Work boots
Here it is packed into a Pelican case as it arrived in California
Who's Coming With Me?
I asked pretty much everyone I knew with a motorcycle and or who once had a motorcycle if they wanted to tag along on this epic trip. I received one confirmed yes. We planned a significant amount of the trip around two people, sharing common tools, renting common bikes, not carrying duplicates of things we only ever needed to use in emergencies.
Two weeks before the trip, he gets sick enough to need a hospital visit. One week before the trip his doctor tells him there's a slim chance he can go. Four days before the trip, It becomes a solo adventure when he officially confirms that he will be unable to make it.
I thought for a few hours after that whether or not I should call this trip a bust, or lean into this opportunity and embrace the significant vulnerability that will now be defining this trip. It would be crazy to think I'd write a blog article this long, just to get to the point of saying I didn't go, so you can likely assume what happened.
What Bike am I Riding?
Finding someone in the US that will let you take their rental bike to Mexico was a real task! I contacted probably 20 different motorcycle shops in southern California. I found only one willing to allow their bikes to cross the boarder into Mexico. The shop was called Cycle Visions, and unfortunately they are closing down and are no longer in operation as of 2026. The agreement was straight forward. I took full responsibility for the bike. If it didn't return I owed him the full value of the bike. In addition, I needed to carry motorcycle insurance in Mexico. I chose Baja Bound as the motorcycle insurer after some research. It was honestly really easy, and the cost was maybe $120 for the week.
The only bike that the shop had that was remotely capable of this trip was a Triumph Tiger 800. They would outfit it with Panniers for me, and the total cost was just over $1,300 for the week after all the fees and taxes. I had little alternative choices, so I went for it knowing deep down that this bike and the tires that it came with were going to be somewhat sub-par for my planned route, but what could I do. What it did have though was good fuel range, plenty of power, wind protection, and cargo space.
The Trip
Day 1 - San Diego to Tecate (53 Miles)
GPS Tracks:
I catch an early flight out of Pittsburgh to SanDiego. Total round trip cost was $360. There's no direct flight at this time, so I have to fly to Chicago and catch a connecting flight. The week before I had shipped all of my belongings to the motorcycle shop, and received confirmation that it had arrived. No need to bring much on the plane, so I just have a backpack with a few things in it to pass the time. The flight was boring, nothing notable. Touch down in Chicago, grab some lunch and then jump back onto the plane bound for California. This flight however, I get lucky. I start talking with the guy next to me and he happens to be from nowhere else but Tijuana Baja Mexico. I walk through my itinerary with him and he critiques a few things and gives me some pointers of where to go, what to avoid, and some general recommendations. Most of my fears that I had had over the last few months seemed to disappear after speaking with him, and I felt like this place I was headed to was less ferocious than I was previously expecting. He gave me some great pointers on carrying US vs Mexico currency (Don't bother with US dollars, carry only Pesos), Suggested eating some Pan (bread) in Tecate, and told me that La Bufadora is for Tourist suckers, and where to find some amazing wine as I head back north towards Ensenada.
We land, he wishes me the best of luck on my trip, and I grab an Uber to the bike shop. It's already 2:30pm and I'm on a time crunch to get into mexico before dark, which occurs around 6pm this time of the year. I spend a half hour getting my bike outfitted with all of my gear, GPS wiring, and other details. The guy who owns the shop hung out with me while I got everything together and told me not to bother bringing the inner tubes or tire tools because this bike had tubeless tires. I double checked with him to be positive. He let me borrow a 19mm hex tool to remove the front axle at my request as a just in case need to have for emergencies. I hit the road as soon as possible and quickly realize that the dense labrynth of roadways in San Diego is a nightmare to navigate with just following GPS tracks, and not having a routable route. After taking 5 u-turns and many missed exits later, I found a McDonalds and ate a cheeseburger and fries as fast as I could before jumping onto the Ottay Mountain Truck Trail.
The gate was closed to enter the trail and I thought I was going to have to take route 94 all the way into Mexico, but the gate swung open with a nudge, and I went on through. I spent 15min trying to turn off the traction control on this bike, but finally got that sorted out. First thing I notice it that this bike has zero low end torque. Its a true road bike engine stuck in a somewhat capable adventure bike chassis. Far cry from my Tenere 700 I had sitting back home.
I am very close to the boarder on some remote dirt roads, but I was a bit nervous to see a black hawk helicopter flying quite low just off in the distance. You can see him straight over the lakes on the horizon below.
I spend probably an hr switch backing along this amazing route through the California mountains with a gigantic smile on my face realizing I'm here and it's actually happening. I double check to make sure my satellite transponder is working and make sure it's set to send out my GPS location every 30 minutes.
The views from this trail are amazing.
I pass three boarder patrol trucks on this trail, and not a single other soul. The sun is beginning to set and I realize It's taken longer than expected to get through here and my chances of making it into mexico before dark are slim. Everything I read about going down into Baja was always appended with DO NOT RIDE AT NIGHT, so my nerves were already rising.
I get to where I expected to be able to exit this rail, but the gate is locked with 5 locks and no way around it unless I plow through barbed wire. I turn around and go farther down the trail and begin to hear a loud noise, when I look up and that Blackhawk helicoper is immediately off of my right shoulder about 50 yards above me just tracking at my exact same speed. It's dusk now and I'm sure it looks sketchy as hell that I'm on the boarder of Mexico, solo, on a dirt trail, riding a bike with a bunch of gear on it nearly at night. My heart is pounding as I realize I'm being tracked by this helicopter and they are certainly going to kill me. The helicopter eventually hangs a turn and shoots off after realizing I'm just a domestic idiot lost and trapped in a barbed wire enclosure. I check four more locations where I see that a gate could get me back down off of this mountain and down onto the roadway. Its completely dark now and I'm pretty paranoid. I go to gate number 6 and find that it is also locked and barbed wire on both sides of it. I'm desparate and decide that I need to cut my way out of here. I take out my multi-tool and am able to cut a section just big enough to get by bike through. I twist the throttle and never look back until I hit the boarder crossing. I stop and converted $800 USD to Pesos in a variety of bill sizes (mostly 100, 500, and some 1,000). It was around 17 pesos per dollar at the time. I kept $200 USD as a backup just in case.
I get in line at the boarder crossing and I'm passing through in a matter of minutes without anyone asking me anything. I was told I needed to bring lots of documentation, along with a Forma Migratoria Múltiple (FMM) document. I pulled over just as I was about to be fully through the crossing and asked a 13yr old kid in camouflage holding a machine gun whether I needed to show someone my FMM document, and he just said "no" and to "keep moving", so I did.
My Air BNB is just over the border, like 5 blocks away from the boarder crossing in Tecate. I roll up to the building and there's someone in a truck waiting for me and he just yells my name, so I assume he's the guy i need to talk with. He shows me where I can park and leads me upstairs. The place is super clean, has electricity, water, and even wifi. Against my initial judgement, I take a walk down the street and get some fresh local food at a restaurant where I fumble with ordering my food with people who speak no english. It was awkward but I ate. I though I ordered tacos, but was given a plate of nachos with veggies, meat, sour cream, and who knows what else, which honestly tasted amazing.
I slept good that night other than the constant howling and barking of dogs. I threw some ear plugs in and was good to go.
Day 2 - Tecate to Punta Estrella (227 Miles)
GPS Tracks:
In the morning I open the garage, and hit the road as early as I could.
I grab breakfast at an amazing little place place off the beaten path called Sabores Con Tradicion (flavors with tradition) just on the way out of town. Food was wonderful as was the hospitality. I tried speaking entirely in spanish with the help of google translate and made of for my fumble the night before.
Yeah I was definitely in Tecate. It was all Tecate all the time, everywhere you went.
The scenery leaving Tecate is beautiful with large boulders visible all along the roadway up into the mountains. I turn off the main road and onto my first taste of Mexican dirt as I transition onto the Baja Divide trail somewhere along highway 3. The road was nice and compact but wow, I was not planning on the 25mph that I was running along at. I had planned on a solid 35-40mph in order to make my estimated time before dark. That speed was truly not possible even with my riding near my technical limit for the majority of the day. The road is just too washed out and strewn with large rocks and deep sand to maintain any significant speed on a heavy road tire equipped bike like this.
Eventually I came to a gate (the only gate I encountered on this section of the divide trail) and was worried I was not going to be able to get through, but the gate was not locked, and just required a rope to be moved out of the way in order to open it. I was quickly on my way.
So much to see along this route. I was quite nervous being by myself here because I was really out in the middle of nowhere. I saw not a single person on this entire leg of the divide trail. What I did see what some interesting terrain everywhere
Along with a number of things that made me a bit nervous
I continued on not looking back, only focusing on the road ahead where I would eventually make it to Ojos Negros in a few hours. Came through an interesting burned out area. It was burned as far as I could see in all directions. The sand was deep in this section and these tires were letting me know about it. I came close to crashing hard many times but was always able to save it.
These areas really drove home how exposed you are in Baja, and directly out in the elements baking in the hot sun. I was thankful to know I had plenty of water, and always had in the back of my mind that I had a GPS transponder that I could communicate back to my family with, but if something serious happened, no one would be coming to save me anytime soon. It was certainly freeing.
Eventually after many long hard miles I saw my first telephone pole off in the distance and realized I had made it to Ojos Negros. What a long hard day it had been and it was only 12:30. Ojos negros was generally a run down town with not many places worth stopping at.
I grabbed a Tecate beer to celebrate being alive and spoke with some guys I met at a local convenience store that said they had been coming here for a decade or more each year.
They wished me the best of luck on my adventure and I was off, heading south east towards San Felipe. I passed a lot of what I assumed to be Agave farms on this route along highway 3.
This section of the highway was somewhat boring with mostly flat terrain, but things quickly changed as you reach the mountain range and start heading down to sea level out of the mountains.
Finally saw my first sign of the baja race as some pre-runners were fueling up near San Felipe.
I fueled up here as well and made my way toward the sea of cortez. The ride through this section was quite spectacular as the mountains gave way into the flat sea level area of Santa Clara.
Really started feeling the heat as the sun is straight overhead and the elevation comes down. The highway in this section is fast and straight. Roadway was in good condition, which I was surprised by as many people had mentioned to be prepared for poor road conditions, but that was not what I experienced nearly the entire time I was down here.
Snapped some pictures of some interesting things you'll see as you are making your way along the sea of cortez into San Felipe.
I was absolutely starving for some good food after the hard miles I put on earlier in the morning. I came through the main boardwalk area of San Felipe and pulled into a place called El Guero Marisco's Seafood. I at an amazing shrimp dinner with some salsa, rice, and a number of ice cold Mexican beers while watching the sea of cortez.
The sun was headed down, and I needed to make some serious ground up, so I headed south as fast as I could, looking for my campsite destination Punta De Estrella. I was told this was a popular place and was looking forward to talking with some people about the race hoping to generally have a good time as this place looked absolutely amazing being right on the water on the beach.
Mountains began to come into view and I knew I had not much further to go before I was at my destination.
This section of the highway was seriously breathtaking at this time of the evening. I couldn't believe how wonderful it had all been working out. I was so thankful to be in such an amazing place having so many new experiences.
I arrived at Punta De Estrella quite unnerved to find out that I was the ONLY person there. Probably 50 or more sites, and not a single person but myself. I speak with a man that runs the place and try to explain to him that I booked this camp site a month ago and that I didn't need to pay him. It took some convincing but was able to find an email saved on my phone with his bosses name on it which was enough for him to believe me and let me through. I ask him "Es the aqua caliente?" He replies with a laugh....."No, haha No es caliente". I come to find out that the Sea of Cortez this time of year is not so warm in northern Baja.
So much for meeting and chatting with some people down here for the race. I was quite surprised and somewhat concerned that maybe I had picked a not so good location to camp. I made the best of it though and found this place to be quite beautiful really.
I set up my hammock, sent a few messages back home over the Garmin satellite messenger, and called it a night. As I lay in my hammock, I briefly consider that this guy managing the place (knowing I'm completely alone here) is potentially calling the cartel at any moment to have me gutted and chopped into pieces to be used for fishing bait. I keep my fixed blade knife in my hammock with me that night.
I soon come to find out over the course of the next few days, the people I come to meet in this part of the world are not only some of the most helpful, but also some of the most selfless people I've met on a motorcycle journey to date.
Day 3 - Punta De Estrella to Catavina (150 Miles)
GPS Tracks:
I wake up to an absolutely amazing sunrise over the Sea of Cortez. I lay here in somewhat of a disbelief that not only am I here right now, but there are places like this that exist all over the world, yet very few take the time to seek them out and experience them first hand.
Breakfast this morning is simple, fast, and bare minimum. I eat a chocolate bar and some cashews that I had saved away in my bag. Those stainless steel pannier boxes aren't much for insulating chocolate from the scorching sun, so my bar is more of a ball. With fuel in the food in my belly, I pack my things up as the sun rises.
This was definitely a place I would recommend someone to stay on your journey through this area just south of San Felipe. The coastline seemed to go on forever.
I burned through a few extra miles of fuel beyond what I had planned for the night prior, so this morning I start off taking it slow and let my fuel mileage creep back up, saving some high speed runs for later in the day when I was closer to a gas station. Gas would not be available until I made it all the way to Catavina, or so I thought.
One thing on my Itinerary that I really wanted to see was the Valle De Log Gigantes. It was just south on my way towards Catavina. It supposedly has some of the largest Cacti in this region of Baja.
Due to me leaving so early in the morning, there was no one in sight however, and so I was forced to motor on without catching a glimpse of these giants. Oh well, next time.
The lighting this early in the morning was just perfect for the trek down the east cost of Baja riding along the Sea of Cortez. The water meeting the mountains, with all of the small fishing villages. It was so picturesque, its hard to capture in a picture.
This section was probably one of my most memorable of the trip from a road riding standpoint. This area was certainly special and I was wishing I had more time to explore this area, but I needed to make it to Catavina by 4pm in order to catch the Baja Race. This section of road was also some of the fastest riding with minimal twists and turns, just mostly hauling ass along the Sea of Cortez in disbelief of the true perfection of the situation I found myself in. To me, the experience of riding along a mostly untouched part of Baja Mexico seeing the mountains intersecting the ocean as the sun rises, while blasting down the tarmac at high speeds with everything I need to keep me alive for a week's time in two boxes behind me is near perfection.
I pass many small fishing villages, and wish I had the time to stop and investigate these areas further. Like most of my days in Baja, time seemed to be in short supply even though I had nowhere truly to be but exactly where I was.
I finally make it to the bottom of highway 5 where is intersects highway 1 at Chapala. I start seeing a lot more people setting up to spectate the race, along with a lot of race support teams and I'm excited to see that I finally am going to be able to chat with someone in English for the first time in a few days.
The landscape in this area is really cool. Reminiscent of southern Arizona in the Tucson area. Lots of boulders and interesting cacti.
Just before Catavina comes into view, I make a stop on the right to see if there's any place for me to throw a hamock between two trees at an on airstrip called Rancho Santa Ines (29.729344, -114.696325). This spot will do:
This place was complete with chickens, dogs, donkeys, and even wifi internet!
Dame Cien Pesos translates to "Give me 100 pesos". So I give them their $100 pesos and set up by gear.
I had no concerns with leaving my sleeping setup unattended for the rest of the evening as I go out in search for my spot to watch the race. I head over to coordinates 29.689354, -114.680237. It's off of the road a ways, exactly where the course makes a hard 90deg bend, and hopefully somewhere that I can set up and spend a significant portion of my day getting pummeled by rocks.
I can hear dirt bikes and I see a few trucks parked off of the course a bit with people set up in various locations. There's a checkpoint for the bikes right here and lots of action going on.
I strike up a conversation with the people nearby. They're in a big F250 camper setup. Him and his wife offer me a beer and go on to tell me they come down here most winters to escape their home in Alaska. The guy's a captain of a cruise ship and says he works whenever he wants to, and plans to move down to Baja sometime in the next five years. Seemed like he lived a tough life.
Just then another guy on a dual sport KTM rolls in and parks his bike against a cactus. His kickstand is sticking out of his backpack. He introduces himself to me and the couple with the camper setup. His name is Nick, and he needed some help getting a broken bolt out of his frame to remount his kickstand. Luckily there's tools abound in a Baja 1000 checkpoint. Nick and I get to talking and he ends up planning to camp right up the road exactly where I'm already set up. We watch the bikes for a while and chit chat. I'm waiting for a guy running the ironman class named Yoann Taplin to come through. He's running an Ignitech CDI we set up for him and his vintage XR600R that he's riding for the race. He's been riding for 15hrs straight by the time he comes into view. I catch a few shots of him as he makes his way through Catavina:
You won't catch any other vintage Honda XR's out here for a big time race like this. Yoann definitely gave it his all for this, making it over 600 miles solo racing against modern liquid cooled race bikes. Lots of appreciation for someone who get this far during the Baja 1000, let alone as a solo Ironman rider! It was actually pretty cool seeing him pass through here. Him and I had been talking for many months prior to the race, building a somewhat custom DC powered ignition system for his old Honda in preparation for the race. I had a spare CDI in my pannier as a just in case, but knew he wouldn't need it.
With a break in the race action before the trophy trucks come through, Nick and I decide to ride into Catavina for some lunch. We stop at a "gas station" on the side of the road where a wonderful lady fills our bikes up out of an old plastic jug. I'm not sure exactly what I paid for the gas here, but it was quite expensive. Law of supply and demand. If we didn't get gas here we were basically screwed. Tomorrow I planned on going for a long offroad trajectory along the pacific ocean on the baja divide trail. I needed every drop I could get.
We grab some burritos from a guy sitting on the porch of the place we are filling up at, and I buy some extras to squirrel away in by bag to eat for dinner later. There's no other food options anywhere near here. Of course I do have some food stashed away for emergency eating, but want to keep that for a true necessity.
So Nick and I talk for a while and I come to find out he's not just on a dual sport KTM, he's using it as an adventure bike in the wildest extreme possible. I also though he was on a 500, but admitted to me that his bike is only a 350cc. To top it off, he rode down to this exact spot we are current at from the state of Washington in the US, and this was not his final destination. He was headed to the southern tip of South America, solo. He was on the beginning leg of what was expected to be a 1-1.5yr journey down to Patagonia and back all by himself on a small dual sport KTM. I said to him "oh my god dude, you're literally on one of the most epic journeys you're likely to embark on in your entire life." He was certainly a humble person, as his simple response was just a very nonchalant "yeah".
We rode back to the race course, and spent the rest of the evening hanging out together along with the couple in the camper truck from Alaska. What a combination of incredible story's I was privied to during the course of that evening. We drank plenty of Mexican beers, ate burritos, some peanuts, and spectated one of the most iconic off road races in this region of the world. Below are some highlights of the incredible racing that was witnessed that evening, and into the night.
Got some serious Cactus Rash!
As the evening began to in and the lights came on, the atmosphere really began to come alive!
With plenty of beer and burritos in by stomach, Nick and I head back to Rancho Santa Ines. While getting out things set up, I tell him I'm planning on heading down the Baja Divide Trail to catch some remote areas of Baja along the Pacific Ocean. He's heading south as well and so he decides he'll tag along. We swap some GPS tracks and some high level planning and call it a night.
Day 4 - Catavina to Chapala via Baja Divide, Then to El Rosario (217 Miles)
GPS Tracks:
Day 4 I wake up to the sun rising, not because I'm ready to get up, but because there's a an insane number of roosters crowing and dogs barking. I hang out in my hammock for a while and take advantage of the wifi by sending some awesome pictures and videos back to some friends and family in the US. It's later in the morning for them as they are mostly on the east coast. I climb out of my hammock and make some breakfast by boiling water and eating a backpacking meal. I walk over and find Nick packing up and getting his things in order.
The dogs wandering in this area were super cool and just looking for some grub. I can't say the same for some of the others I met the following day.
I didn't realize it at the time but this day would turn out to be one of the most grueling adventure rides of my life to date. The plan for today was to head on an offroad course along the coast where the mountains meet the Pacific Ocean. I was originally planning to do this solo, but thank god I didn't and I like to think I would have been smart enough to turn around after some of the earlier things we encountered, but who knows. Here's the journey:
This offroad section is probably ~75miles of pure offroad Baja Immersion. We ride north of Catavina (green mark on map) to catch the start of where I want to pick this trail up. First thing I notice is the beginning section of this trail is extremely sandy. Dry deep sand. The tires on this Triumph Tiger are basically complete shit for riding in sand any deeper than a fraction of an inch. Honestly, these tires are meant for well groomed roadways ONLY. I was kidding myself, and was lucky to have made it down the Baja Divid Trail from Tecate to Ojos Negros without hitting the ground.
We had to ride a 1 mile section of the actual Baja 1000 race course backwards while the race was still active in order to get through this section. I was pretty nervous about it, but super hyped up to push forward, especially after all of the action we saw the night before.
The bike is sliding and wandering all over the place. I had no business bringing this bike back here, but I had someone to help me out of a jam now and I wanted an adventure so I was dead set on getting one. I surely got what I was after during that day, and much more.
The trail began to get a bit more packed down and we're finally traveling at a speed above 10mph for the first time in an hr.
That's just in time to notice dark storm clouds rolling in from the west off of the ocean headed our way. Check out this awesome shot of the clouds rolling over the mountain peaks here. This was a warning to us, but we were naive.
It starts spitting rain a bit. Nothing terrible, but the trail was nice and rocky in this section with plenty of traction. We were coming into the mountains at this point, and the scenery was something like I had never experienced on a bike in an offroad setting before in my life. Just extremely unique, and exactly what you would expect to find in Baja.
We came into a section with some of the most dense large growth Cacti I had yet to see on this trip, and wasn't to see again. I though about what it must have been like to live down here a hundred years or more ago, and Nick and I both agreed that we were doing exactly what others had done in the distant past while riding a horse. We were simply just using a more powerful and long range horse known to us as motorcycles. How long into the past this trail had been traveled through by humans in this region is anyone's guess.
15 miles in or so we came across an old abandoned school house where there must have once been a small settlement.
The rain was mostly holding out, but began to come down as we made our first glimpse of the ocean. We came upon a small fishing village in the Valle De Los Cirios with small boats lining the beach. No one was to be found anywhere around, and we had seen zero bike tracks on any of the routes we had taken. We were truly out there and on our own. It felt great.
With the rain coming down, the beach was packed down nicely, so I took a risk and rode out near the ocean a bit. It was an experience!
Feeling confident, I take a route that leads directly to a super steep easily 45° short hill climb out of the beach and back up onto the ridge. There's much easier route, but I why would anyone take that? I commit and pin the Tiger wide open and as I approach this hill I realized I was probably going plenty fast, but absolutely pushing my luck far beyond what I should be doing in such a remote area. I make it to the top with the engine banging off of the rev limiter with my heart racing and I think to myself, "wow that was really dumb".
No picture of the hill unfortunately, but this is looking back after the climb, peering over our tracks along the water.
Nick makes it to the top easily on his knobby tired KTM and rolls up to me and says "I honestly can't believe you just did that".
We roll along the mountain tops paralleling the ocean for many miles. The rain is relentless but not a downpour.
We get into an area that is a true no man's land. Nothing to see for MILES and we're getting soaked. I start to feel like my front end has the brakes locked up. I go down for the first time on the trip and slide along silt covered rocks into some bushes.
We get the bike stood up and realize the entire front fender is packed solid with something that is
the consistency of nearly solid clay. It's what happens when Baja sand/dirt silt becomes wet. It turns to rock hard clay. I didn't realize how big of a problem this was going to become for the rest of the trail that we were only maybe 30% through by this time. I dug all of the clay out using a rock and a screw driver.
We had a long way to go and every 5 minutes my bike would refuse to turn, the front wheel would lock solid and I would hit the ground hard. I was actually really nervous at this point because even if we turned around, we would be in the same trouble with all of the rain having soaked the tracks. I dig the clay out for probably the 5th time and realize I can't ride on the trail anymore. My only option is to ride through the bushes and cacti off the trail completely where there's more stones and rocks and less silt. I hit a soft patch and the bike instantly buries the rear tire to the axle with a bit of throttle.
I look around and kind of have to laugh at the predicament I got us both into. I was at this point worried, but not as worried as I would have been had I attempted this solo. Nothing was out here but the two of us and the motorcycles that we had to find a way to push through this quagmire. I was cold, wet, and covered with mud. I had a huge smile on my face somehow.
I kept picking lines that somehow worked out, and we made it through some incredibly nasty areas that I had no time or business stopping to take a picture to document. Here's a good 360deg panorama of the terrain and isolation we found ourselves in.
You can get a lot accomplished though with a positive attitude and some good offroad riding skills. Both were an absolute necessity out here.
When I think it can't get any worse, it does. The only way forward is through a gigantic valley that is nothing but silt mud. It was an absolute nightmare to say the least, and that's not an exaggeration. To make it worse, those large boulder looking stones were about as smooth as a bowling ball and with silt covered tires, we had to pass over a deep loose section of them and I'm on a 450lb motorcycle with street tires. It was a team effort to get my bike through any short section of this.
After finally making it through this valley of death. We rise up in elevation. The sand turns to rocks, and things get a bit easier with the silt no longer a problem. For the first time today, we encounter other human beings. The one on the yellow bike isn't riding it. He's pushing it.
They speak zero English. Not even "hi". He points to his rear derailleur. It's snapped off and sitting in his backpack. No chance of fixing it. These guys are in serious trouble and would be absolutely spending the night out here in this storm by the ocean. They had 35 miles to go before they reached the closes road, and that was through steep mountains and along boulder strewn coastlines. I asked him what tools and parts he had. He laid everything out on a towel in the dirt and I looked through it all trying to think about what we could do.
I saw that he had a chain breaker and a replacement master link. I figured, maybe if we can cut the chain and rejoin in in the exact length required to line the smaller front chain ring up with a chain ring in the rear cassette, he could ride this as a single speed bike and he could have some hope of getting out of here. The idea worked, and I broke the chain, and put a new master link on, then forced the chain onto the two parallel front/rear chain rings and told him to give it a try. He rode it down a small hill and back up again. He got off the bike, saying something in Spanish with a gigantic smile on his face, shook my hand, took my picture and said many words quite quickly almost laughing, which I took to effectively mean "gracias senior!". And with that we went our separate ways. It put into perspective how serious things can get out here without the knowledge of how to approach solving your own problems with whatever resources you may have at your disposal.
My problems riding this pig of a bike through the mountains of Baja now felt somewhat smaller having seen the trouble that other people are in out here.
We get a small break in the weather and we soak up some sun and let things dry out. Nick and I agree to take the shortcut back out of here to escape this hell of a route as fast as we can. The thing is, even the shortcut is another 25miles and through what I would come to find out was hellish washed out rocky boulder strewn hill climbs.
Nick was notably aggravated by the effort required to get us through this section of the trail, and I completely sympathized with him. I unfortunately took zero pictures of this hellish washed out hill climb section out of respect for getting us the hell out of here as soon as humanly possible, plus momentum was in short supply, and stopping for a picture was not an option.
That's when my front tire went flat, just as the storm rolled back in.....
I was certain it was a pinch flat. I was beating the absolute shit out of this Triumph getting it up these rock hills. I also smashed in the one pannier quite badly as I was coming up through one of the washed out hills with no chance of me letting off the gas. Whatever was to happen was to happen and I'd pay for it's replacement upon my return to California. Just get us out of here.
I fill up my tire with as much air as I can pump. I'm pissed. We have a long ways to go and it's late in the day with maybe an hr left of daylight and we have a big storm coming. To top it off, Nick's bike won't start when we go to move again and my tire is slowly losing the air I just pumped into it.
We pushed on and finally approached a location where I had been paranoid about over the last couple of hours. It was called "Laguna Intermitente" (intermittent lagoon). I though this area would either be the location that ends the trip in feed of deep thick mud, or it would be a dry lake bed and we'd be blasting across it like the Utah salt flats. Upon approaching it, the rain was beating down pretty hard. To my most pleasant surprise, the lake was hard packed and nothing like a lagoon for this period of time. I had not seen a vastness of complete desolation and wide open nothingness anywhere like this before. I cranked the throttle open and we hauled ass across this flat lake bed approaching 75mph for a stretch. I slipped my phone out of my pocket to snap this picture at 40mph because this small section was just too cool not to document. Pictures don't do it justice.
We make it to the end of the trail after about 5 more miles. We cross through a cattle gate in the pouring down rain and pause at a small convenience store to figure out what the hell we were going to do. I found a horse right outside of the store that looked like it may have been standing there for a century or more.
I walked over to a ranch next door to see if anyone could help us out. I was told that they were too busy at that time to help out.
The sun was basically gone and we're standing in the rain under a small overhang planning what we're going to do. I needed to be 112miles north of here by the end of the day to stay on track. That was no longer possible. Nick was headed to South America, so naturally he wanted to head south from here. Whatever we did, we were going to do together at this point because we had nowhere to sleep, we were soaked, had minimal gas, I had a front tire that was completely flat now, and it's dark outside.
We decided to go south in order to find a place that had gas, and we saw on my GPS that there was supposedly a hotel at the intersection of route 1 and route 12. It was as big risk, but we kind of had nothing to lose. It was 30miles away on a flat tire in the rain with zero light remaining.
I laughed at my predicament and fired the bike up, pointing it south on the road. The bike was squirely as hell all loaded down with gear on a wet road. None of these roads are all that great, and every minor turn I had my foot out just waiting for the tire to roll over the edge of the rim and send me to the ground... likely where I would then call it a night, and sleep under a cactus. I encountered some very sketchy spots on the ride down the highway, but kept the bike on the road in time to pull into the hotel. I had only a mesh outer jacket on and was actually cold and shivering for the first time on the trip. We walk into the hotel, and they have one single room left. I throw my credit card on the counter and tell them we'll take it. One thousand Pesos later, and we have a key to a room with two beds and a shower. Nick and I look at each other and realize we'll be sleeping together tonight even though we just met 24hrs ago. We reluctantly track mud and sand all down the hallway into our room where I take my first shower in a long time. They luckily serve food at a small table outside of the hotel, and we eat as many burritos as we can order, and plenty of Mexican beers. I send out a satellite message telling everyone that cares about me that all is well and hit the pillow, not mentioning anything about my predicament in my messages. I knew in the morning if I didn't figure out how to get my front tire fixed I was in trouble for making it back to the US in time to catch my flight. I was already a couple hundred miles off course in the wrong direction at that point. I knew I'd figure it out, and slept well that night.
Day 5 - El Rosario
to La Bufadora (230 Miles)
GPS Tracks:
El Rosario was where I originally intended to wake up, but we found ourselves off course and were now taking up at an intersection much farther south by over a hundred miles. I got dressed quickly and told Nick that I was headed off to find a solution to my flat tire. He said he's check in with me after he ate some food and got his things together.
There's a gigantic junk yard across the street. I figured it was my best shot. I pump my tire back up using my hand pump. Nothing but bubbles from the valve stem.
Having been assured back in San Diego that this bike had tubeless tires, I figured the stem had come loose and so I crank down the lock nut, but it does nothing. I didn't bring my tire tools because they're of little use on tubeless tires. I was stuck, and at the mercy of my external resources. I walk into the store next to the junkyard and ask who runs the place and whether they could help me or not. They told me the guy in the trailer next door usually wakes up around 9am and then I could see what he has to say. It's currently 8am, so I've got plenty of time. I order a burrito for breakfast in the store and the girl at the grill says "Es aceptable la carne de burro?. I didn't really know what she said, nor was anything not going to be acceptable for me to eat down here, particularly in this situation so I said yes. The meet was tough and stringy, then realizing she told me it was donkey meat. It was food and I needed energy. Honestly it was not that bad. I look over and get lucky when I see the junk yard owner come out early.
He speaks zero english and is very hard to talk with. I show him my bike and through a combination of sign language and sand drawn hieroglyphics, we are able to communicate.
He gives me two sketchy blocks of wood to get the front tire off, and he tell me to follow him.
We walk into his workshop where most surfaces are covered with empty Tecate beer cans. That's when He pulls out his tool of choice, which the finest Mexican pick axe/sledge hammer one could own down here. Now if I had personally owned this bike, I would have told him to pause for a moment and find some proper tire spoons, but this was a rental, and so I provided little resistance to letting him have his way with her.
Beggars can't be choosers as they say, so I was delighted and entertained as we both worked dilligently and were able to open this thing up.
We find the culprit. It had do cactus thorns poking through the tire wall into the tube. I knew right then that it was from me riding off the trails on the baja divide trail, trying to avoid the tire locking silt. Somewhere in the bottom of the toolbox on his 18 wheeler, he pulls out a tire patch kit.
We come to find out that there is in fact a tube in the front of my wheel and none of the tubeless plugs and patch kids I brought was going to help me in any way. We were able to patch the tube. I take it for a quick ride, and it runs flat again. Round two does the trick and we do the entire process over again pulling the wheel off, tire off, patching it, reassembling, etc. We pump it up to 60psi and I leave it that way. I know my offroad riding is done for the rest of the trip. No way could I go anywhere off pavement with 60psi in the front of this bike.
Nick shows up as I get the bike fully assembled. I wish him the best of luck on his journey to South America and tell him I'll be checking in with him every now and then to see whether he's still alive.
This marks the most southern of my journey to Baja, and will be heading north from now on, taking a different route than the one I took on my way into Mexico. I realize today I need to make up some serious time and miles and sadly will have much less time today for sight seeing than I originally planned for. I grab gas from a man on the side of the road just north of the hotel, and motor along at a good clip for most of the day.
There's mostly a whole lot of nothing on this stretch of highway 1. Nothing to eat, no gas, no people, and little to no cacti or trees. Would be a terrible place to break down. I'm making good time, and there's rain on and off, but nothing too heavy. I've burned through by donkey burrito by noon and decide to pull over as I come through one of the first major towns I come across which was El Rosario. I see some people cooking on the side of the road and they have a tent popped up. It's starting to rain so I pull in and take my gear off. Feels great to stand and stretch. I guy next to me with a trailer full of junk asks me if I speak english. I reply "si", which in hindsight didn't make much sense, but we spoke for a while and he invited me to eat lunch with him.
He tell me his name is Valentine, and tell me he'll buy me lunch. We sit and talk for at least an hour. He tells me he's from Croatia and used to own a construction company that he got out of a long time ago. He divorced his wife and claims he hid $800K using some type of church exception clause that was completely illegitimate but, but it allowed him to move down to Baja and life a free and wholesome life by the ocean. I told him I wanted to find some seafood, but he encouraged me not to eat seafood here and instead ordered me a huge pork burrito, which honestly was some of the best food I had had down here. He gave me his phone number and told me to call him next time I came down here and he'd take me out fishing and we could cook fresh sea food back at his place. I did end up calling him many weeks later to let him know I appreciated the conversations and that I had made it home safely.
I pushed on from this point and grabbed some gas just down the road at a Pemex station right as you leave town. The road got a bit windy and mountainous after that point and it was a real thrill riding through this area on the 800 Triumph carving along.
As I approach El Campito, I see that I'm basically a few hundred yards away running parallel with the ocean. Knowing that it's all about he journey, not the destination, I pull off the road and check this area out. It was a long stretch of highway that had many turn off points that lead to a bunch of cliffs that overlooked the pacific ocean.
This was a really cool area and I could have spent a lot more time here, but there was a long ways to go. I passed through many small towns, most of which I would never want to stop at. Highly populated with people, and a lot of it looked quite sketchy to be honest. This section of the trip was probably the least remote of all my time down here so far. The towns were rough, and had a much different feel than the remote areas of Baja I had been used to.
I then make it to Ejido Papalote. A town completely surrounded by farming of any and all crops you could think of. Small green houses lined every street. I pulled off the road and meandered about on the back streets and dirt roads heading towards the ocean, trying to catch a climpse of something interesting. I ride along a sandy little trail that just rolls along the hills next to the ocean. I became concerned that I may get stuck and trapped back here with my totally inept tires, so I play it safe as i go along, seeking packed sand anywhere I can find it.
I rescue a hermit crab from the trail, and then head inland away from the deep sand.
I catch a glimpse of two small houses on stilts overlooking the vast agricultural landscape and thought his was such a unique and interesting place to call home for someone, so I had to snap a picture.
As is typical on my trip, each day I run out of daylight far in advance of when I'd like to. The sun is already heading down over the mountains and I've got an estimated 3hrs remaining on my journey before I make it to La Bufadora. That's assuming I make zero stops and don't eat any dinner.
Past this point, things become much more lush, and beautiful. I'm deep in the heart of wine country in Baja as I pass into El Veladero. I'm somewhat mad that I have to blast through this area so quickly with such little light left, but the shadows on the mountains this time of day was beautiful, with vineyards in every valley.
I take my last picture of the day as I head down into a deep cavern flanked by what I would call one of the most perfect picturesque mountain scapes I had encountered in Baja.
I don't know exactly where I was at this point, but I would come to find out that at the bottom of this long winding mountain road was a military checkpoint that would hold me up for a good half hour. It was a half hour I really couldn't afford to waste.
I sat in line waiting for my opportunity to be interrogated by corrupt military personnel all holding machine guns. I dared take zero pictures. I didn't even want them to know I had a cellphone. Eventually it's my turn to move up to the checkpoint. I'm asked what I'm doing down here, they check my ID, ask me where I've been, and then tell me to open up my bags. They root through my side panniers a bit and then just tell me to move along after they find only camping gear and peanuts.
It's a chilly, somewhat sketchy ride from this point on. I pass through little vineyard towns, and am literally just blindly following my GPS tracks that I had hand drawn onto my maps many months prior. I encounter my first major GPS issue as It's completely pitch dark and I need to find my way up a huge mountain pass to La Bufadora at 9:30 at night by myself. I follow my GPS tracks down a back road that gets my heart rate rising quite a bit. I know I'm not in the right place because I'm on a hillside in a super slummy area on a dirt road and it's slowly turning into a trail. I hear barking dogs and get surrounded by three feral animals just as I realize I'm completely lost. I put my legs up on my tank and punch the gas, not wanting to die of rabies on a cold dark evening in Mexico all by myself in a ditch somewhere. I trust in my previous GPS track course and blindly follow it. It takes me up some hills, then through a small forest, and at this point I'm on a dirtibke trail and I'm not in a good place. It leads me up a switchback to where a number of houses are perched along the side of this mountain. I'm very obviously lost to anyone in these houses and have a real fear at this point that someone's going to come out here and find out what I'm doing here, and I can't speak spanish for shit, so i know I can't explain myself. I decide to cut my losses and turn around and follow my tracks back out, looking at the depressions my tires made in the mud to lead me. I pass back through the wild pack of dogs, this time going twice as fast. I make it back onto the main road and realize my evening it going to be a lot later than I had anticipated. I considered just finding some place in a thick patch of bushes to sleep, but I had no idea what was around me. These towns at night have zero lights on, and I had no idea how close I was to someone or even something (dog, snake, donkey, cartel, or other). I'm super hungry and tired and just keep moving along trying to enjoy the adventure of it all, which I did truly enjoy. I follow a main road and eventually am able to link back up with where I knew the main switch back would take me to the summit of La Bufadora after studying the map a bit. It was a long winding road that took you up like an elevator over the ocean. I could see boat lights, starts, and far off houses as I kept riding vertically up in elevation. I kept thinking, "wow this is going to be an amazing sight in the morning on my way back down." I reach the place where I had intended to camp. It was 10pm, and the guy must have felt bad for me because he only charged me $5, probably because I was there so late.
I was the only person up here. I had it all to myself. I boiled some water with my camping stove, popped a cork on some local Baja wine and ate a delicious home cooked backpacking dinner overlooking the ocean while listening to waves crash in complete darkness. I set up my hammock and went to sleep. This was a long day. A little bit too long for my liking, but man what ride it was.
Day 6 - La Bufadora to US Anza-Borrego Desert State Park (249 Miles)
GPS Tracks:
I wake up to a wonderful sight as the sun is rising to the east overlooking Kite Bay. The wind is ripping across the top of the mountain and the air temperature is quite cold.
It's boarder crossing day back into the US, and with that comes some unknowns on how long this leg of my journey will take. I skip breakfast and begin my journey back down the mountain stopping at nearly every switchback to admire the expansive view of the ocean and surrounding topology. From here to Ensenada, things get busier and more developed. Ensenada in particular is quite a large city, but navigating through this area was a breeze. I stop along a roadside at a Mexican restaraunt that serves breakfast. I'm a little nervous about keeping the bike right on the street in downtown Ensenada so I park with the bike within line of sight from the table at this open door restaraunt, making doubly dure I take my GPS off the dash before heading inside. After all, I was only two doors down from a Mexican "Drag Show and Strippers" establishment.
Breakfast is just what I needed after a long cold night and a brisk ride into the city. I took my time moving through Ensenada, trying to soak it all up as I realized this was the tail end of my journey.
The ride from Ensenada to Tecate was beautiful. Riding along boulder strewn two lane highway 3 was peaceful and pleasant as I had the sun to my back and the air temperature began to climb. I eventually pass back through the short section that I had covered on my way down here the week prior and catch a glance at the location where I had previously pulled off the highway onto the dirt road the began my journey on the Baja divide trail. As I rode past that point I thought a lot about all the amazing and challenging things that I had no idea I was about to experience on this amazing journey deep into Baja.
About 45min later, I approach the boarder. It's kind of hard to miss as you can see a gigantic fortress wall shrouded in razor wire for miles in both directions.
It was that moment when it hit me that to most people I was on what is collectively considered the "wrong side", or "dangerous side" of the wall. Based on every experience with the entirety of all individuals I interacted with down in Mexico, I experienced nothing to that description, and realized there's a lot of good going on down here, and for most people in the US, they could learn a significant amount of much needed respect, empathy, and sense of unity that exists in less financially fortunate regions of the world. Baja being a great next door neighbor opportunity to directly immerse yourself in those experiences.
The line to the boarder was INSANE, and so busy I had no time to snap a picture. It was easily going to take over an hour to make it to my spot at the boarder crossing. I had previously read online that motorcycles were allowed to ride the median and skirt the line entirely, but I was pretty nervous about just going for it because police with machine guns and dogs were literally everywhere. I eventually worked up the courage to ask whether I could ride around the insane traffic mess and go directly up to the crossing and I was told "Si, solo ten cuidado" which meant I was permitted to do so carefully.
I was a bit nervous aproaching the US boarder patrol, but had all my documentation in order so I knew I had nothing to worry about.
I made it to the other side in a matter of minutes, that otherwise would have taken over an hour and was grateful to be back in the US. I stopped and exchanged most of my Pesos back to US Dollars (minus some souvenir currency).
Now my journey was not about to end quite yet as I still had a significant leg to finish off that would take me through the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park in South Eastern California. I was kind of ready to take a break from all of the riding, but couldn't stop myself from ripping up into the mountains and through the desert region of this portion of California, not knowing when if ever I'd be back in this area on a bike ever again.
The roads in Mexico were honestly a bit better than this stretch of CA desert roadway. This was a fast and twisty ride climbing up in elevation to where I would eventually reach an area called Banner, just to the west of Julian. A mountain region that was way higher in elevation than I realized and it ended up only being 35degF up here. I had on only a T shirt under my riding jacket and I was shivering. I eventually stop at a phenomenal lookout to snap a picture, throw on some warm clothes, and take a bathroom break.
I grab some lunch at a little mountain top bar and make my way back into San Diego, and find my dingy motel room where I'd live out my final evening down here.
I spend my final night here roaming around the boardwalk at Bellmont Park on Mission Beach. What a place to call home for the people living here. Warm air, breezy, great food, and plenty of entertainment year round and a sunset over the ocean ever evening.
Time to ride back to the motel and get some sleep in order to wake up, drop the bike off and hitch a ride to the airport.
Day 7 - Drop off Bike and Fly Home
GPS Tracks: N/A
Sadly, I wake up to rain, and the detailed pressure washing I had done to the bike the day prior was for little benefit. I arrived at the bike shop soaking wet and hung out at a gas station for a bit while I wat for the place to open up.
I get to pay $890 for a new pannier that I insisted could be easily repaired (and I'm sure that's exactly what they did), but they charged me for a new o ne anyways.
I talk with the shop owner for a while, telling him many of the highlights of the trip, including to mention that the front tire in fact did not have a tubeless setup and it cost me a lot of headache (but was all for the better having had the experience and stories that it led to with my flat tire). The Shop owner was nice enough to drive me to the airport and it as smooth sailing home back to Pennsylvania from there.
It was a flight with a lot of self reflection that this trip reaffirmed my love for novel and scrappy experiences that only a destination to somewhere far off the beaten path can deliver on.
If you have an opportunity or an interest in going to Baja or anywhere for that matter that offers new novel experiences and perspectives on the world and or human culture, do your future self a favor and just GO.
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