Trans-America Trail and Beyond

96Delica

Adventurer
In the states, you can camp for free pretty much anywhere you want on National Forest or BLM land. It’s a bit different in Canada.

In the central provinces it's different, once you get to BC it becomes much much easier to camp!!!
 

Grabow

Adventurer
Oh, Canada: Part 2

Obviously we're burning through these blog entries the same way we burned through Canada, but it's about to slow down a bit, so stick with us.

Saskatoon was quite a bit cooler than expected. We walked around in a few different neighborhoods and had a couple of decent beers and some poutine! What could possibly be better than potatoes, gravy and cheese? There was even a cool bookstore on Broadway called Changing Tides or something. That night, we stayed at a campground called George Howe that advertises being “downtown”, but really it's just outside of the city. It was nice enough, though.

Next morning, we decided that it's time to hit the TCAT again. So we did some internetting at a coffee shop to jot down a few notes about the trail and hit the road around noon. Stopped in a small town about an hour south of Saskatoon for provisions (food and wine) and set out onto the trail.

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PIC - Hitchhiker on the TCAT

This is the part where it slows down a bit. The blue line on the Garmin, representing the TCAT, took us to a dirt access road that followed a rather large and deep irrigation channel. At first glance, the dirt seemed dry, almost dusty. Driving on it proved otherwise. The deceptively dry looking mud had us slippin and slidin within inches of the drop off into said irrigation channel, and it was getting sloppier. We attempted to come to a stop and slid for a few feet when Brian said, “yeah, maybe we should turn around.” So we backtracked to the main road to find another route to access the trail.

A few miles up the road, we came to a point at which we could get back on the trail. From there, we drove roughly 50 miles in about two and a half hours. Most of the trail was gravel road or packed dirt. The rest was completely under water. Every road we took was either “Road Closed” or just disappeared into a lake created by the most recent storms.


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We backtracked and turned around and took alternate routes so many times that we were literally driving in circles just to stay on the trail. Very frustrating. It was getting late, so we opted for a main road and a sweet little campspot at the Saskatchewan Landing Provincial Park. There, we purchased the most expensive (but much needed) six pack of cheap beer we will ever buy again.

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As it got darker, the locals got louder. A few “ladies” were frequenting the bathrooms located roughly 20 yards away from our campsite. They were very drunk and very rowdy and one of them sounded like Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs. At one point, during one of their many trips by our spot, “Bill” shouted, “It's not my fault you're camping next to the toilet! That's what we do as Canadians, we get loud!” It was like something from the Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Saskatchewan. We laughed politely and waved.

But hey, look! Free firewood! Canada aint so bad.

Alright, let's speed it back up a little bit. The next day we decided to take a day off, so we stopped in Medicine Hat at a nice bar with a great patio and legit IPAs on tap. Decided to have two and acquired a nice little afternoon buzz.

Booked a spot at a local campground and went out for a night on the town. Unfortunately, we struck out finding a cool spot for dinner and drinks, so we ate at a local establishment called Boston Pizza. Local in that it was only 10 min. away from where we were sleeping that night.
Bought wine and fire wood.
It immediately started raining.
Went to bed early.

Wake up and drive a couple hours to Calgary in search of beer and poutine for lunch. Found a great bar near downtown called Broken City Social Club. They had several craft beers on tap (something hard to find in Canada) and their poutine wasn't bad either. With a half buzz and full bellies, we headed west.

We found a campground not far from Calgary, and pretty close to the TCAT, just outside of a small town called Bragg Creek. A handful of years ago, Bragg Creek experienced a “100 Year Flood” that wiped out pretty much everything. Then, last year while rebuilding, experienced yet another “100 Year Flood”. This small hamlet refuses to be washed away and is rebuilding yet again. New roads. New storefronts. New everything.

Our first morning at the campground, we woke up to lousy weather, cold and rainy. We decided to head to the local coffee shop instead of making coffee in the rain. The jeep was attracting quite a bit of attention parked out front and a couple of the locals decided to stop in and ask whose jeep it was.

They were Tom Walker and his son. Tom is a local photographer who does quite a bit of work for the oil and gas industry. Tom is also a fellow traveler and very personable. After talking for just a few minutes, he gives us directions to his house and insists that we camp on his property for as long as we like.

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We spent four nights camping at Tom's, parked next to a long retired Land Rover. These would be our only nights in Canada that weren't expensive and our longest stop in the whole country. Tom filled us in on all of the local sights to see and how to find them. We took a day trip east to Drumheller, which is apparently one of the largest dinosaur fossil sites in the world. Hiked around there for a bit and went to the museum. Well worth the trip.


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PIC - Largest Dinosaur in the World!

On our last day in Bragg Creek, Tom took us out to do some cool shots of the jeep. He also wanted to get some shots with us in them, which we were not prepared for. Several days of no showers and same clothes does not make for a good impromptu photo shoot. We were grateful nonetheless and ended up with some decent shots.

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From Bragg Creek, we headed north towards Banff. This was the part of Canada that we were most excited about. After several unsuccessful attempts at driving the TCAT we decided to abandon the trail until Vancouver Island. As we approached Banff, the city, we entered Banff National Park. The entrance fee was about $25, but if we were just passing through, we wouldn't need to pay. We opted to just pass through the town of Banff, making sure not to stop at the risk of getting a ticket and then moved on. Then we passed by Lake Louise, and once again, couldn't stop because we didn't have a pass. Then we came to a checkpoint where we were forced to purchase a pass anyways, even though we were headed out of the park. Arguing was pointless; we had to pay.

After that, we decided to backtrack to Lake Louise and check it out. It was stunning, the brightest turquoise blue we had ever seen water. Lake Louise was worth the price of the pass alone. It made us feel a bit foolish for not paying in the first place and a bit lucky for getting to experience it.

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PIC - Lake Louise

From there we headed north to Bow Glacier. The only way to walk out on the glacier is to join an expensive tour, but you're still able to hike right up to it for free. There were markers along the trail showing how far the glacier had receded over the last 100 years, and it's still shrinking rapidly. It's obvious that the it wont be around forever. From there, it was North on the Icefields Parkway, past more glaciers and other stunning views.

There are very few places we've been where the natural beauty can compare with that of the Colorado Rockies. This portion of British Columbia is one of those places. The mountains and cliffs are a bit more severe and the color of the water borders on unbelievable. This is a beautiful place and shouldn't be missed.

That night we made camp at the Rushing River Campground and had a very cold night's sleep.

Woke up, made coffee, and headed to Jasper. We needed to do laundry and shower and knew there was a KOA in town so we decided to get one of their small cabins and catch up on the blog (that we then slacked on, which is why we're sitting on a beach in Mexico writing about Canada).

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Grabow

Adventurer
Oh, Canada: Fin

From Jasper - West toward Vancouver. Driving down the highway, we saw yellow guitar shaped signs advertising free camping. Probably too good to be true, but we decided to check it out anyway. So we followed the signs waayyyy back into the mountains and came upon a hippied-out music venue called Serenity Music. We figured that the “Free Camping” was for music events, but we didn’t want to be rude, so we knocked on the door. We expected some ‘free spirit love child’ to answer. To our surprise, a fairly normal looking business lady came to the door and confirmed that the free camping is only for music events, but we could camp there for $15. She was nice and offered toilets and free firewood, so we paid her and set up camp. The moment we finished eating dinner, seriously dark clouds rolled in.

Since this was a music venue, there were a few canopies in the main yard with picnic tables and lights underneath. So we packed up our wine and cups and played scrabble under the canopy while it stormed all night long. It was great.

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In the morning, headed to Helmcken Falls (spelled correctly). Supposedly two times the height of Niagra falls. It was pretty tall, but not that impressive from where you have to view it. On our way out, we met a girl who suggested we try Moul Falls. Excellent suggestion! The hike out takes about an hour and it is by no means easy, especially on the way back up , but totally worth it. We hiked down to the falls, walked around behind it and got soaked. It was a blast!

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Now, we head to Vancouver Island! But first, a quick stop in Vancouver for more poutine and beer (brunch of champions). There must have been some kind of climbing event, or maybe it’s just a really good climbing spot. Either way, all of the campgrounds in the area were full, so we stayed the night just north of Squamish at a small campground inside of a rec area next to a bmx park. The drive from Vancouver to Squamish is breathtaking. Sweeping S turns and stunning views (would be great for a motorbike). To date, it’s one of the most beautiful roads we’ve driven.

Got breakfast and groceries in the morning and took the ferry to Vancouver Island.
We set up camp early afternoon at Englishman’s River Falls with plans to find the TCAT early the next morning. This place looks like a jungle. There is moss on everything, giant trees stretching up to the sky, deep rich greens and dark browns. Beautiful.

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In the morning, we set out to find the trail. It was mostly winding gravel road leading up into the mountains. We stopped at a dam and walked around for a bit. There were several camp spots, probably mostly for fishing in the dam, and some pretty creepy tree stumps scattered across the low parts of the lake. Then, (dun dun dunnnn) we saw bear tracks! Carley high-tailed it to the jeep. Brian laughed and marveled at the number of tracks. (Turns out, they were dog tracks. But it was probably a big dog!) Man, we’re easy. Definitely saw some bear scat, though. It was everywhere. Eeek! Let’s get out of here! Back on the trail.

We were less than a few miles from the end of that day’s portion of the trail when we came to a dead end – gate closed. So we backtracked and took a round-about way to get to the other side so we could find camping. Got to the other end of the trail – gate closed.

By this time, the sun was going down and the clouds were moving in, so we drove in circles for a while before finally coming to a campground on the other side of town. It was late. It was raining. We didn’t really feel like paying $35 just to park the jeep for the night, so we ended up camped at a Walmart. It was actually pretty great. There were several RVs and a few vans. It looked like some sort of gypsy camp. We bought a bottle of wine from the store and rented a movie from the Redbox. Drank wine and watched the movie in the tent. Good times.
Considering that every attempt at the TCAT resulted in a flood, dead end or road closed, we completely abandoned the trail and opted to get some pizza instead! Goats on the Roof (it’s a place), there are a hand full of live goats living on the roof of a market in Coombs, is a tourist attraction and well worth the visit. There’s an excellent pizza place just behind it (can’t remember what it’s called) so if you’re ever in the area, try it out. It’s touristy, but it’s cute and fun. So do it.

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After lunch, we hit the road to Tofino. Someone said that you can sometimes watch bears catch fish right out of the water up there. Obviously that is something we wanted to see.

Got in late and snatched a campsite near the beach. It was a Friday (we think) and the place was packed. Once the sun went down, we walked on the beach. It was littered with campfires. Magic.

In the morning, we searched around for those fishing bears, but couldn’t find any so we drove a few miles south to Ucluete and roamed around for a few hours. Beautiful landscape. Took a hike out to a lighthouse and climbed around on some serious seashore rocks. Brian had been to this area before and was excited to show Carley all of the starfish that covered the rocks with bright orange and purple hues. Unfortunately, we only saw a handful of starfish. There is a debate about what is causing it, but millions of starfish are simply melting away and disappearing. Some say climate change, some say bacteria. Whatever it is, it’s shocking and disappointing.

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Knowing that camping anywhere near Victoria would be packed and pricey, we stopped at a state campground about 30 miles north of the city. That evening, we sipped wine and planned our trip to Victoria, which would be our last stop in Canada before heading back to the states. We wanted to really enjoy it.

In the morning, we drove into town and got a coffee and breakfast sandwich at Wild Brew and then walked around the city. As far as we knew, it was pretty much like being in England. No, we’ve never been to England, but it’s on the list and we hope that at least some small part of it is like Victoria. It is a beautiful place and should absolutely be seen if given the chance.

Early in the day, we made arrangements for the ferry to Port Angeles, WA. Our trip to Canada had come to an end and it was a bittersweet good bye. We boarded the ferry around 7:30pm, excited to be back in the states to prepare for the next part of our journey: The West Coast.

A side note: People in The States told us that folks in Canada don’t like American’s and that they were going to be rude and disrespectful. That was rarely the case for us. Nearly every person we met was kind and polite and went out of their way to make sure we felt welcome. If you don’t mind emptying your pockets, Canada is a lovely place to visit.

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96Delica

Adventurer
A side note: People in The States told us that folks in Canada don't like American's and that they were going to be rude and disrespectful. That was rarely the case for us. Nearly every person we met was kind and polite and went out of their way to make sure we felt welcome. If you don't mind emptying your pockets, Canada is a lovely place to visit.

Did whomever tell you that ever travel to Canada?? You're our bros!

Glad you liked Van Isl, I grew up in Parksville and used to visit Coombs when I was a kid. BC is magical!
 

Grabow

Adventurer
It was mostly the people we met in the U.P. of Michigan. Of course we also heard from people everywhere that we shouldn't go to Mexico because we would get our heads cut off, and we didn't listen to them either. It's usually the people that have never been to a place that tell you with certainty all of the horrible things that are going to happen to you if you go.
 

Grabow

Adventurer
The Long Drive South Begins

Our ferry got into Port Angeles around 9pm. We had arranged earlier in the day to stay at the KOA in town so we didn’t have to roam around in the dark looking for somewhere to camp. Found cheap wine (our old stand-by that hadn’t been available in all of Canada) and firewood and rolled into camp around 10pm.

Got up early the next day and headed to the Olympic National Forest. Excited to finally find some free camping again. We first visited La Push, then headed to Forks. For the unacquainted, Forks is the town that the Twilight series of books and movies is based on. There were some pretty lame attempts at capitalizing on that fame. Such as, the “Vampire Firewood” (literally just a few bundles of firewood for sale on the roadside) and the Twilight Tour that will take your picture in front of the “Welcome to Forks” sign with faded life-sized cardboard cutouts of the stars from the film, just to name a couple.

Moving on from Forks, we made camp just outside of the Hoh Rainforest in a small gravel pull off that extended about 100 yards into the woods. That night, while sitting around the fire, we heard the loudest, strangest noise come from the forest. Somewhat a mix between an owl and an injured wolf. It was loud and it was close. It only happened once and then went silent. We still aren’t sure what it was. Possibly a screech owl?

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[Brian splitting firewood with the Woodsman's Pal.]

Woke up early and started making coffee, when an SUV with official signage and numbering of some sort pulled up. It was a younger couple (younger than us) neither wearing uniforms but both carrying clip boards. In our experience, clipboards mean trouble.

He asked, “Are you camping here?” His tone suggested that we shouldn’t be.

Brian replied, “Nope, just making some coffee and tea.”

They were doing research of some sort (probably researching the half owl/half wolf that we had heard) and informed us that we weren’t in the National Forest as we thought we had been. Pack up camp and move on.

That day we decided to explore Olympia, WA. Stopped first at Spar Bar, owned by the McMenamin’s family. This place was great; stained glass windows, copper bar tops, lots of wood and great lighting. The atmosphere was great. We stayed for a couple of beers and some Cajun tater tots. After that, we roamed around town.

The scene was a bit depressing. We don’t mean to imply that you can get the feel for a whole city in just a few hours, but it seems as though Olympia has a bit of a drug problem. Open drug deals in broad daylight, and sad people covered with track marks everywhere you look. We tried to find a park to sit in but the parks were crowded with these types. Decided to have lunch at Quality Burrito (very tasty) and moved on.

Made it just to the edge of the Gifford Pinchot National Forest for some free camping. After searching around some of the dirt roads that lead away from the main roads, we found a trail that had been blocked off but was still passable with some careful maneuvering. The short road ended with a 20-foot drop off into a mostly dry riverbed. It also gave an excellent view of Mt. Rainier.

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Mt. Rainier (along with pretty much any other volcanoes on the route) was on Carley’s short list of ‘must-sees’. She grinned from ear to ear as we made camp. We settled in early and built a fire in preparation for the Indian style pot pie we planned to make in the Dutch oven. That night’s dinner would be the best so far (and we can tell you a month later, the best to date).


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[Dutch Oven Indian Style Potpie Before & After]

Oatmeal in the morning, a haircut for Brian, then it was off to Seattle for some tourism. We spent a few hours at the Pike Place Market, had some beer and food and then went to see the Freemont Troll. After that, we met up with some friends who were just getting back into town from their honeymoon in Vegas. They were beat, but they graciously took us in for the night, fed us, and even shared a bit of Washington’s finest. (Thanks Chris and Natalie!) We talked, laughed and drank through the night.

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Woke up, made use of the shower and hit the road again. Made our way down near Mt. St. Helens and free camped near a swift stream. This would be our last night in Washington.
The next morning made breakfast, took our time and relaxed a bit before heading south to Portland. As soon as we got to the city, a rock flew up and put a nice sized spider in the windshield. Great! We just replaced the entire windshield before leaving Kentucky. Luckily, the brewery we were headed to was less than a block away from an auto glass repair shop. We stopped in, they filled the crack and we were on our way in 15 minutes.

We rarely have a plan when we enter a city so we ended up bumming around all day, having a beer here and there, and enjoying the perfect weather. Stopped in Voodoo Donuts (meh, they weren’t great). We were tired and feeling like we had spent too much money, so that evening we opted to camp at a Walmart parking lot not far outside of town.


The next day, we sat in a small coffee shop for a few hours, attempting to update the blog. Once the clock struck noon, though, it was time for tacos and beers at Por que no? It was roughly 75 degrees and sunny and, to be honest, this is the place where Brian and Carley kind fell in love (aaawwwww) so we spent some time walking around, holding hands, checking out vintage shops and saying “man, I could live here”. It’s on the list.

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Around 4pm, we headed toward the coast. Haystack Rock is one of those places we have been talking about since the beginning of the trip. Not a lot of economy camping at Cannon Beach, so we got a sweet deal on a cottage style hotel and enjoyed 4 walls and a king size bed for the night. Feeling pretty bourgeois. Spent some time walking on the beach and attempting to get a decent shot of the monolith. Watched TV and ate junk food. It was excellent.

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[Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach - Goonies!]

Next day, we got a call from a friend inviting us to come stay at his house just an hour down the coast. Dave, a pal from Colorado, has a beautiful home built on the side a cliff just above the beach. He took us in, bought us dinner and drinks and made us feel at home. We stayed up drinking wine and mixed drinks, etc. Two nights in a row of posh digs? We’ll take it! Thanks Dave!

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[View from Dave's Place in Oregon]

Before getting the call from Dave, we planned on going to Umpqua Hot Springs in the Deschutes National Forest for a night or two. So the next day, we headed out around noon (it’s hard to leave the coast!) and drove inland. It was around 6 or 7pm when we pulled in and right away we knew that there were some shifty characters in the neighborhood (several park rangers and other Federal agents in bulletproof vests were surrounding a campsite not far from the parking lot that we planned to camp in) A local crew we labeled “the mountain folk” made sure to make their presence known, stumbling around being loud and asking for free weed. Oh well, we have a machete.

That night, we made leftover Indian potpie and sat around a fireless fire pit before calling it an early night. Got up at 6am to try and beat the crowd up to the hot springs. Success! Mostly. There was one girl, a younger naked hippy type doing stretches and holding a crystal. Fine by us.

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It was quiet and the water was perfect. There are several pools, all flowing into one another. The further down the hill you go, the cooler the pools get. So we bounced around and tested out as many as we could before the mountain folk showed up. They dropped trou and, well, not so fine by us. We’d had our fill, though, so we politely gave up our pool to them and hiked back down the hill, hopped in the Jeep and headed out.
 

Grabow

Adventurer
Baja California

Okay, we tried to get caught up, but Baja was so great we couldn't wait. We'll get back to the West Coast at some point.

Here we go!

After days of pumping ourselves up for our big day: all necessary paperwork in order, passports accessible, tank full of gas, we were finally ready to go to Mexico! Crossing the border into Baja was both easy and complicated. As we passed through the border zone at Tecate (not Tijuana, because that place is scary), a patrol officer simply waved us through. That's it. No passport check. No vehicle inspection. Nothing. That was the easy part.

Luckily, we knew that we needed Temporary Vehicle Import documents and a tourist visa since we were going to mainland Mexico. So we circled a few blocks before finding a nice older man in a uniform and asked him where we go for such things. He moved a few construction cones and insisted we park there, that he would watch our jeep and gave us directions to the Immigration Office.

Here’s how it goes: First, you have to go to the Customs office or “Aduana” to complete the application for a tourist visa. Then take that paperwork to the “Banjiercito”, kind of a bank (it’s a walk-up window to the right of the customs office) to purchase said visa. THEN take that receipt back to Aduana as proof that you paid and receive the visa and stamp in your passport. THEN take that information back to the bank and apply for your Temporary Vehicle Import Permit (TVIP). Walk 4 blocks to the nearest ATM to get cash (Yes, it’s a bank. No, they don’t have any ATM). Then, you have to walk down to the corner store to get copies of some of the papers they have just given you, your registration, and passports. The TVIP is just a way for the country to insure that you’re not trying to sell your vehicle while you’re in town. All together it cost us around $468, $400 of which we will get back once we leave Mexico.

Things were going fairly smoothly until just before we received our TVIP. After asking about our travel plans, the gentleman working at the bank left the walk up window and returned with a young lady who spoke very good English. With a stern tone, she warned us that we shouldn’t go past Ensenada, that we should turn around and either head back to the U.S. or take a mainland route into Mexico. “It’s not safe”, she said. That’s it, no further explanation.

We found out roughly two weeks before crossing the border that Baja had suffered one of it’s worst hurricanes in history. Odiel ripped through southern Baja, tearing down structures and dumping rain across the desert, flooding small towns and destroying tourism. Crime was obviously high due to the fallout. Looting, etc. However, we had ‘on the ground’ info from a couple who were traveling in Baja just a week or two ahead of us, that everything is getting cleaned up and the roads are passable.

So we took a second to think about it, and decided to cross the border and head to Ensenada. We could always turn around and take another route if necessary, but we needed some time to think. A beer or two would help.

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Once we got to Clam Shell Beach Campground (they have internet, flush toilets, showers), a recommendation from our online friends who were traveling ahead of us (check them out at ourcanvascastle on instagram), we calmed our nerves by swimming in the ocean and reminding ourselves that this is part of the adventure. We can’t control the weather; we just have to be smart. So we stayed a few days at Clam Shell beach and made a tentative plan.
Had dinner at La Fonda near Alisitas and watched dolphins play in the waves. Visited Rosalito and had the best fish tacos yet in Ensenada.

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After a few days at Clam Shell beach, we felt confident enough to proceed further into Baja. Headed east on highway 3 to Mikes Sky Ranch, a legendary Overlander’s hang out and a must see for anyone running the Baja 500/1000. A dirt road leading out into the middle of nowhere was the first of the big time off-roading we were hoping to do in Baja. The drive was fun, but unfortunately for us, it was a Sunday and Mike’s was totally empty. The bar wasn’t even open. So, we pressed on to San Felipe and found a tiny little slice of Margaritaville Heaven at Pete’s Camp.

We pulled in late, of course, and had a drink at the bar. Within minutes, most of the locals (mostly ex-patriots, retired and living out their days neck deep in a glass of tequila) were our new best friends. Pete’s offers hot showers, cheap camping and flush toilets. Not to mention the tiki bar and restaurant serving up mediocre food and stiff drinks. We felt like a couple of cheeseburgers in paradise.

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We heard that there was a new storm moving in, a hurricane called Simon that would eventually turn into a tropical depression by the time it hit San Felipe, so we decided to wait it out at Pete’s.

The most interesting thing about this section of the Sea of Cortez (aside from the fact that somehow it draws tourists) was the tide. When it goes out, it goes way out. Like, a half mile. So if you want to swim, you do it at noon or not at all.

We were still feeling a bit of trepidation about heading south into Baja. We heard reports of tourists being mugged, windows smashed, etc. But we met a couple of wonderful ladies who gave us some much needed encouragement and even a few recommendations on sights to see along the way. As soon as the storm passed, we were back on the road.

Next stop: Bahia San Luis Gonzaga (Gonzaga Bay). They say it used to take nearly eight hours to get to Gonzaga Bay from San Felipe, but now the road is mostly paved, so it only took us about two and a half hours. Not much to this beach aside from a few palapas you can rent for $10 a night, a market that has a surprisingly good beer selection (IPAs!) and a restaurant that sells no booze at all. The pit toilets were pretty terrible and the recent rains made the sandy entrance a bit messy. Other than that, the water was pretty and warm. There we ran into Carl and Kathleen, a couple traveling to Tierra del Fuego from Washington on an adventure motorcycle.

We were all headed to Coco’s Corner (another mainstay in middle of nowhere Baja) in the morning, and knew that the dirt road that lead there was probably a mess, so we offered to lighten their load by stashing nearly all of their gear in our jeep.

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The dirt road to Coco’s corner was not as bad as anticipated, but still bad enough to be fun. We weren’t really sure what to expect at Coco’s because all of the descriptions we had read seemed to be intentionally vague. We’ll try our best to describe what to expect if you ever find yourself rolling into Coco’s Corner.

Coco is probably in his late 60’s to early 70’s, legless from about the knees down, and a bit strange. Legend has it, that he wheeled himself out into the desert in a wheelchair about 35 years ago and that’s where he’s been ever since. Coco’s Corner is little more that a shack with a covered patio and various junk/art scattered around. We found Coco manning the counter in front of a refrigerator stocked with beer and sodas for sale. That is about all there is to Coco’s corner. The covered patio has a large collection of panties hanging from the ceiling that he isn’t shy about asking ladies to contribute to, and if you are female, he will probably ask you to sit on his lap for a photo (the desert is a lonely place).

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A beer each, and some trail/road reports from Coco, and we were on our way.
Lunch in Guerro Negro, and then we pressed onward to San Ignacio. We had heard good things about San Ignacio and were excited to get there. We hit some traffic for road repairs just outside of Guerro Negro, and were getting dangerously close to breaking our no driving at night rule, but rolled into town right at sunset.

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We could tell instantly that San Ignacio wasn’t going to be the beautiful Oasis we had heard about. The town had been hit hard by the storm, and the rains had washed away the campgrounds and the bed and breakfast that was to be our Plan B…and it was getting dark.
While Brian was negotiating a price to park in the parking lot of a rather shady looking hotel, Carley spotted a Westy and a Ford Transit Connect pass by with some couples our age in the cockpit. It was obvious that they were also in search of somewhere to sleep, so we chased them down and asked if they minded us joining them just to have the added security of “safety in numbers”. They were glad to have us along and we all caravanned to “Rice and Beans” hotel and campground. In the Westy were Jason and Shaina from Washington State, and in the Ford, TJ and Joey from LA. In the otherwise empty bar at Rice and Beans we met Kara and her dog Coco from Canada. We all instantly became friends, swapped travel stores, drank all night, and had a blast!
 

superbuickguy

Explorer
Do fish for Mahi Mahi while you're on the Baja Peninsula - I'm mostly vegetarian and normally don't even eat fish, but the mahi is amazing down there.

About that screech - either a Baird owl or a Spotted owl. I know, I know, Spotted owls are hard to spot and never camp anywhere near civilization. I have a picture somewhere of 4 of them camping above my old Suburban (apparently, they didn't get the memo) in front of my shop (I live east of lake Washington, near Seattle). That screech is the mating cry - so you camped with horny birds (you can thank me later for that image).

Have great travels!
 

Grabow

Adventurer
Baja is Muy Tranquilo

The following morning was slow going. We all congregated at the restaurant at Rice and Beans for breakfast before agreeing that traveling as a convoy sounded like a great idea. “We’ll follow you guys.” Brian said. And we did. We followed them for days.

As our mis-matched convoy rolled out of San Ignacio that morning, there was a dense fog that had us all second-guessing where in the world we were. Once we got to higher ground, though, the cool fog lifted and gave way to the bright sun and intense heat. It was brutally hot.

To Mulege!

Unfortunately, hurricane Odiel had left this tiny, yet popular, town in a state of disrepair. And it was hot. So we got gas and moved on down the road as fast as we could. It was great! Driving through the desert, dust flying everywhere, not using AC in solidarity of our new friends who don’t have the option.

We were “in it”.

The road was winding and each turn led us closer to our destination: Bahia Conception. After a long day of driving and sweating and being mildly hung-over, there is absolutely nothing more beautiful than cresting over a pass and seeing the Sea of Cortez, an empty beach and a palapa.
Playa Santispac was, for the day, our new home. We set up our little gypsy camp and ran for the water. It was perfection. Beers flowing just after noon. The grounds keeper, for lack of a better term, was a chipper fellow who had a van full of hats, dresses and hammocks for sale. He also had a boat for rent by the hour, and assured us that Santispac was “muy tranquilo”.

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We rented his boat for a few hours and set out for a nearby island for swimming and snorkeling. Having never snorkeled before, we both chose not to embarrass ourselves by advertising our lack of operating know-how and opted to just use some goggles and hold our breath. It was still a blast! Schools of tiny fish swimming by, pelicans dive bombing to eat those tiny fish. The 17 year old “captain” (the grounds keeper’s son) dove for clams.

We returned to basecamp just in time to start dinner before it got too dark. TJ went to cooking the clams that he and Joey had harvested, while Jason started cooking some rice and beans just in case his previously vegetarian stomach wasn’t up to the task of digesting seafood.

The clams were a bit of a bust, no matter what method of cooking TJ used, he failed to get satisfactory results. We all happily dined on rice and bean tacos, and drank into the wee hours. This would be Shaina’s last night in Baja, she had a flight out of Loreto the next day.

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Wake up fairly early, and hightail it to Loreto. We got into town early enough to grab lunch together before saying our goodbyes and dropping Shaina at the tiny Loreto airport. Now we find camp…or maybe something a little more posh.

Near the airport we saw hand painted signs for Coco’s Cabanas. They advertised $49 a night, two pools, and private cabanas. Probably too good to be true, we decided to investigate anyways. When we pulled up to Coco’s Cabanas at the end of a dead end street, we couldn’t believe our eyes. This place was NICE! Not just nice for Baja, but really nice.


At the front desk, we found Steve, the owner. He gave us a tour of the three different types of accommodations he had to offer. Option one: a private cabana next to a sizeable pool. Very nice, AC, TV, comfy looking bed. Option two: two spacious bedrooms for rent inside one of the houses on the property. And finally, the winner winner chicken dinner of the day: the entire house made up of two king sized bedrooms (each with its own bathroom), living room with flat screen TV, full kitchen, dining area, private patio and even a spare bed for Jason. For just over $30 a head, we all agreed that it was too good to pass up.

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That night, TJ and Joey made a delicious dinner on the grill and we all drank a few (probably more than a few) beers and walked around the city. This was truely Baja...stray dogs barking as we passed every alley way, the small tiendas blasting local music and the humid air catching every scent (good and bad), allowing it to linger as we passed through. One of the best nights so far on the trip. We were on top of the world.

Until the next morning. Ouch… no mas cerveza, por favor. How about a pina colada? TJ made the absolute best (and only) pina colada either of us has ever had. Definitely a new favorite. We spent some time that day exploring the town of Loreto. However, since it wasn’t exactly tourist season and most folks are not coming to Baja due to the hurricane, it was pretty much a ghost town. Seeing as though we kind of had it made in our posh new digs, we decided to stay another night. A bit more low key, but still worth every penny. That night we occupied the pool until our fingers were pruney.

Since the very beginning, we had been looking forward to Agua Verde. Our whole trip was first conceived as just a Baja trip, based mostly on a picture on the cover of Overland Journal. That picture was of a camp at Agua Verde, and it captured the essence of the remote wilds of Baja. Today, we planned to see that place with our own eyes. Our rag tag convoy was not exactly suited for the roughest terrain. Our jeep, the only 4X4, Jason’s Westy, the only other vehicle with any ground clearance to speak of, Kara’s $1000 Previa, and TJ’s Transit loaded to the gills. We felt slightly responsible for the collective based solely on our vehicle’s abilities, and our knowledge of the terrain. After we all aired down our tires, we warned everyone one last time of what lied ahead, no one backed out. Agua Verde or bust!

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We bounced down one of the best roads to date for about 3 hrs. Shelf roads with stunning views and tight switchbacks. The whole of our convoy made it safely to Agua Verde, a quaint fishing village, and because we really weren’t sure what we were looking for, we weren’t exactly certain if we had arrived. The locals assured us that we were indeed in Agua Verde, and told us that we were free to camp wherever we pleased. We still hadn’t seen the iconic spot featured in Sportsmobile adverts, and on the cover of magazines, so we kept searching, and sure enough, we found it! We knew immediately when we crested the hill that we had found it, the image was burned into our brains! This was what we had been searching for, not just today, but in totality. If we never made it any further than this, we had succeeded!

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Unfortunately, the road was too rough for the rest of the convoy, so we experienced it alone. After a few minutes speaking with the elderly man who lived on and maintained the beach, we returned to our comrades and made camp near where the fisherman loaded and unloaded their boats. That night was bliss, as we once again drank too much, star gazed, and bonded with our new friends.

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Photo by Jason Knoll

Check out our instagram @adventureornothing for more photos!
 

Grabow

Adventurer
Stary Overlanders.jpg

Wake up, swim in the Sea of Cortez, hit the road. We could get used to this.

No one in the group really had any must-sees for the next portion of the trip so we just picked a place on the map and headed in that direction. Jason and Kara were both looking to surf, so we headed to the pacific. The spot we picked was Adolfo Lopez Mateo. This town was apparently, at one point, a tourist destination for whale watching and eco tours. As we rolled in at sunset, we could see that this was no longer the case. Most of the shops were boarded up, and the ones that weren’t had the windows busted out. We wanted to believe that this was a result of the recent hurricane, but it looked as though things had been this way for years.

In Mexico, the beaches belong to the people, and camping is welcome and free on almost all of them. So, we headed to the beach in search of camping. After about an hour of driving around, we still hadn’t found any beaches with vehicle access. It was getting late, and we were getting desperate. On the outskirts of town, we had seen a neighborhood with some really nice houses and a fancy looking hotel called Habitat Hotel. We figured we could camp near the hotel without too much hassle.

Brian, TJ and Joey stopped at the hotel to ask if anyone had suggestions for camping, and it was immediately obvious that the hotel was no longer in operation and was being squatted by some shady looking characters. Trash everywhere, mangy dogs, and makeshift toilets. One of the squatters was friendly enough, but also looked nervous that maybe we were there to tell him we owned the place. We’ll pass. We continued down to the end of the road and asked a couple if we could camp on the beach near their property. They were very friendly and offered to let us stay in their yard, but we declined and instead stayed about 50 yards down the road on a sort of beach next to a large pile of trash.

None of us felt too comfortable with our campsite, but we didn’t have any other options. It was now dark, and we were hours from any other towns. Just as we started making dinner, a police truck with lights flashing bounded down the dirt road, aiming right for our camp. What now? Bribes, arrest, something worse? Brian approached the police cruiser and hoped for the best.

The officer in the passenger seat immediately stuck out his hand for a handshake, and assured us that there would be no problems where we were camped and that they would be doing several patrols of the area that night. Should this make us comfortable that the cops would be keeping an eye on things, or worried that they felt the need to keep an eye on things? Oh well, we all decided to go to sleep early and get up at sunrise and hit the road.

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Another foggy morning made the drive out of town seem eerie and misplaced. The destination for the day was Todos Santos, with stops in Constitution (drive slow and stop at ALL stop signs, even if no one else does. No one else will) for coffee and La Paz for gas. We were all feeling a bit nervous, as we had just received news two days prior that there had been some midday beheadings in the tourist zone in La Paz. Apparently, over the last two months there had been 28 murders there, and there was talk of a curfew. Little of this had made the mainstream news and much of it was being kept hush-hush due to the already low tourism from the hurricane.

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(Side note: these stories were mostly half-truths and we never once felt the least bit unsafe in La Paz. None of the crimes were directed at, or in anyway involved, any tourists. If we wouldn’t have had insider info, we would have had no clue that any of that had happened)


When we got to La Paz, we stopped at the first Pemex station we saw. We were all a bit hungry but were unsure if we should venture into town for food, or move on to Todos Santos. Brian decided to chat up a cop in the gas station parking lot to try to get a feel for how safe/unsafe it would be. The cop showed Brian the day’s newspaper proclaiming that the murderers had been caught, and assured us that we would be fine. Then he insisted that we follow him to a good restaurant, but only after he moved his assault rifle from his rear seat to his front seat (was he planning on needing it?!) Brian’s poor Spanish and the officers poor English, made for an interesting conversation that resulted in a police escort (complete with flashing lights) for our entire caravan to some place he called “Veeps”. What is Veeps? Did he say something about Applebees? We were very confused, but we knew that we were to follow him through town to one of his favorite spots, that in reality ended up being a chain restaurant called Peter Piper Pizza. Oh well, today we dine on Chuck E Cheese style pizza. After running a few errands (Home Depot, walmart, etc.) we were back on the road. Onward to Todos Santos!

(Side note: Veeps turned out to be VIPs – as in Very Important People – a popular fast food chain in Mexico)

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Finding good camping at Todos Santos should have been easy. It is a fairly quiet tourist town, big in the surfer community. However, since the hurricane swept through, damage to the town was still being repaired and the beaches were left flooded with what smelled like human waste and littered with debris.

Parts of it were still attractive, though, and we were all dying to get in the water, so we drove out as close to the high tide line as we could get. Then, TJ got stuck in deep sand. Now, before we go on, we should mention that the jeep is loaded down with nearly every piece of recovery gear imaginable. Be prepared! But it was hot, and it didn’t seem like it would be too much of a struggle to get TJ unstuck. So we pushed and dug sand out from under his Transit. After about 10 minutes, we realized that he was more stuck than we thought. Then a nice older man who lived in one of the giant houses lining the beach drove his truck down and, with a very “I’m saving the day” kind of attitude, pulled TJ out with just a tow strap.

We drove out to a place called Cerritos Surf Camp, which turned out to be the cleanest, yet most exclusive beach in town. They wouldn’t even let us park in their lot. It was getting late, and, as we drove through town, we noticed that the infamous Hotel California looked quite empty, so we all reluctantly agreed to pop in and see if we could play “Let’s Make a Deal!” (It should be noted that Carley was in no way reluctant. Hotel California has been on her radar since she was about 12 years old. Huge Eagles nerd)

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Typically, a basic room is just over $100 per night, but TJ and Joey worked some serious magic and got three rooms for $60 each! We all took showers and got dressed up for a night on the town! Dinner and 13-year-old-tequila shots, then drinks at a “locals” bar where several of the locals attempted to assist Carley in learning Spanish, also where we saw a Denver license plate and got a little homesick, and finally, back at the Hotel California for smokes and drinks poolside. We were drunk and high (on life!) and, let’s just say it’s lucky that we were the only ones in the hotel. It was a total gigglefest. Easily one of the best nights of the entire trip. Definitely on the list of best nights of ever.

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Checked out in the morning and, uh-oh! Something we ate the night before was not agreeing with Carley, so we spent the day in town waiting for things to clear up. We walked around town, through all the tourist shops, cafes and bookstores. Picked up a set of Spanish flash cards and a Lonely Planet Spanish conversation book. Had a light lunch at a coffee shop.

Camped that night on a buggy beach near town. Spent the next day in town retracing the prior day’s steps, attempting to update the blog, but not finding the inspiration. It’s hard to hunker down and write when you’ve got good times staring you in the face. Around midday, we started looking for a place to camp for the night. Ended up at a placed called Surf Camp on the other side of the highway. This place seemed abandoned, no one at the office, no one to call, but the pool was perfectly clean and a sign near the office read “grab a room” with a price list. Joey and TJ picked their room and Briand and I and Jason popped our tops in the parking lot (really just a dirt patch outside of the entrance). We hopped in the pool to cool off and had yet another excellent (giggly) night.

Got up early and headed to the coffee shop in Todos Santos to make plans for the day. Back to La Paz to pick up supplies (beer, mostly) and then on to Playa Tecolote, just north east of La Paz. Jason’s birthday was the following day, so we made arrangements with a guide to rent a boat that would take us to Isla de Espiritu Santo – an island off the coast of La Paz where the Sea Lions (or Sea Wolves, as they’re called in Mexico) congregate each year.

That night, we took it easy so as to not feel like garbage the next day. It was a good move. The boat ride out to the island was rough, but fun and Carley was laughing like a child on an amusement park ride the entire time. We went through caves and arches and saw some pretty impressive rock formations. When it was time to get in the water, we didn’t hesitate to pop on our “kit de snork” and jump in. A few yards from the boat, about 5 or 6 sea lions were congregating in the water. Carley dove down to see what they were up to and nearly lost her s&%t when she saw that there were baby sea lions swimming around beneath them. One swam right up to her, checked her out and then darted in the opposite direction. Playful little fellas.

sealion.jpeg
[We didn't take any pictures because our camera doesn't go under water. So here's a sea lion drawing. Enjoy!]

After about 30-45 minutes of Carley screaming “HOLY S&%T!!” into her snorkel, our captain called us back to the boat. It was time to head back. A quick stop on a beach, tucked away and looking like something you see in a “Beaches” commercial, for lunch and beverages, we headed back to Tecolote for dinner and drinks to celebrate Jason’s birthday. That night we sat around a table at camp and placed a game called Munchkin. It’s basically a poke at DND, with zombies and monsters. Nerd fun! This would be TJ and Joey’s last night in Baja, they were L.A. bound first thing in the morning. We miss you guys!
 

Grabow

Adventurer
Baja to Mainland

Quick question before we get to the update: Should we change the thread name since "TransAmerica Trail" no longer applies to our current adventure? Does anyone know how to change a thread title? Or should we start a whole new thread?

Okay, here we go!


A few days prior to swimming with the sea lions, along a semi-paved road somewhere in Southern Baja, a rock few up and took a nice big chunk out of the windshield. After driving on all those bumpy trails, Kara’s Previa required at least one new shock and Jason had a propane leak in the Westy. So, after a saying our goodbyes to TJ and Joey, a few cups of coffee and a quick breakfast on the beach, we packed up and booked it to La Paz to take care of business. We found a glass repair shop and suspension shop within a block from one another and knocked out our repairs within a couple of hours.

Kara heard from a friend that there was good surf back on the Pacific side, so she and Jason headed west to Todos Santos while we stuck around in La Paz to sort out ferry tickets, Mexico paper maps, etc. The next day, we headed to Todos Santos to catch up with them.

As we were approaching the highway, we were pulled over by a motorcycle cop, just before the entrance ramp. He wanted to know where our front license plate was. "No tengo", Brian shrugged. The officer inspected our jeep, shook his head in disapproval, and waved us on. Less than a mile down the road, a police truck came cruising up behind us with it's lights on, so Brian pulled off onto the shoulder to let them pass. Once they passed, Brian pulled back onto the highway. No good. The truck full of police officers slowed down, got behind us and motioned for us to pull over.

An officer appeared at Brian's window and asked to see his license. He informed us that it was dangerous to pull off and back onto the road so quickly. Infracción! We'd have to pay a fine.... at the police station.... anytime after 9pm!... the following day. (Something smells fishy)

"No problemo", Brian said with a smile, "may I have the address of the station, your badge number and your truck number?"

The officer then offered a quicker solution "you can just pay here. $50 (that's US dollars, not pesos)."

"No, it's okay. I don't mind going to the police station," Brian politely responded with a smile, "we have time."

The officer returned to his vehicle and came back with a better offer: $100, but only if we pay him directly. WHAT? Then it jumped to $150 and he was going to have to take Brian's license with him if we didn't pay.

Brian, still smiling, said "no problem", and again asked for his badge number and the address for the police station. The officer was visibly frustrated. He, once again, went back to his vehicle and returned with a much different offer "my commander said you can go."
He handed Brian his license back and we were on our way.

Luckily, we were warned ahead of time that this kind of thing happens all the time. They expect that you're only in town for a short period and don't have time to return to the police station. They also exptect that you will be intimidated by them and pay up when they ask. The thing to remember is that, if you act like you have all the time in the world, they typically don't want anything to do with you. Not to mention, the fines you pay at the police station are usually less than $50. If you have, in fact, done something wrong, you should get a written ticket and be sure that the fine amount is written on it.

By the time we got to Todos Santos, Jason and Kara were heading to Cabo San Lucas. Not really our scene, so we decided to stay in town for a date night and snagged a room at the Hotel California (again) and got the best pizza we’d had in over a month at a place called Gallo Pizza. In the morning, we met up with a very hung over Jason and Kara and headed to Santiago.

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We drove up a seemingly never-ending sandy road to Cañon de Zorra to check out some waterfalls that, according to Kara, may or may not be functional. It was hot and a hike through the desert hardly seemed like a good time. But, it was Kara's birthday, so we threw on our swimsuites, grabbed a beer and headed out. Once we hiked down into the canyon, we could see that the waterfalls were functioning just fine. It was like a magical fairytale land. The water, glistening from the sun and golden from massive amounts of the pyrite particles on the floor, was all too inviting. And it was all ours. We were the only one's there, and since it was about 93 degrees out, no one wasted any time jumping in.

CanonZorra.jpg CanonZorra2.jpg

We swam until our fingers were pruny and then headed to a beach on the Sea of Cortez side called Los Frailes, which is a small fishing village and not much else. Perfection. Birthdays are cause for proper celebration, and buying fresh caught fish on the beach was something we'd been dying to do. Jason and Brian procured a kilo of fresh tuna fillets from one of the fisherman and we made the absolute best fish tacos any of us has ever had. After dinner, we built a fire on the beach and drank tequila and laughed through the night.

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The next day, we said our goodbyes to Jason and Kara and headed back to La Paz to prepare for our ferry ride to Mainland Mexico!

Found a campground, with a pool and laundry facilities (washer only - line dry), just outside of La Paz. The lady who owns the property was super nice and all of the campsites come with full hookups. Plus, there's a coffee shop on site! (Whhaaat?) That evening, we went into town for dinner and a beer (or three) and ended up back at the campground around 9pm, drank a few more beers by the pool and went to bed late and properly drunk.

Since our ferry wasn't scheduled to leave until 5pm, and we didn't have to be there until 2:30pm, we took our time in the morning, making breakfast and doing laundry before heading over. Once there, we found out that there was an extra cost for the weight of the Jeep ($12) and that Carley could not board the boat in the vehicle with Brian. She would have to enter separately and then magically find Brian once he boarded. Great! However, somehow we missed the call for passengers to board and ended up on the boat together. Freak out avoided.

Once you exit the cargo hold, you are not allowed to return to your vehicle for the duration of the trip. Since we opted for a private cabin, we took pretty much everything we could think of onto the boat with us (i.e. computer, cards, binoculars, snacks, etc.) to keep us busy for the 18 hour ride. After a bit of confusion we found our room and, although the website made it seem a bit more luxurious, we settled in quickly and anxiously awaited departure.

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As soon as the boat pulled away from the dock, traditional mexican music was blasted over the intercom system. It was loud. There would be no writing or relaxing for us. We could hear people milling around on the top deck, so we went up to check it out. It was a full on party. People were dancing and drinking and having a great time! We even saw a couple of sea lion pups chasing after us. After the sun went down, surprisingly, the party fizzled out and we went back to our room to catch up on some writing.

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The giant boat slowed to a crawl as we made port. "Welcome to Mazatlan" When we embarked on this journey, we had several late night conversations about how far we thought we'd make it. For us, arriving in Mazatlan was fairly triumphant. We had made it to mainland Mexico! It was beautiful.

As we tried to exit the ferry we were stopped just before descending the steps that lead to the vehicles. They only wanted to allow one of us into the cargo hold; one person per vehicle, and the language barrier was complicating things. They had stopped us in a narrow hallway, and the impatient foot traffic was starting to back up. The official forced us to go in separate directions, and Brian shouted out to Carley, “Don’t worry, I’ll find you."

Once in the cargo hold, Brian had about a 20-30 minute wait, while Carley had to stand in a hallway full of Spanish-speaking truck drivers with absolutely no idea where to go or what to do. After what seemed like an eternity, people slowly started moving down through the ship and out through the cargo hold. Brian was nowhere to be seen. So, once again, not knowing where to go or what to do, Carley just started walking to what looked like an official building. “Don’t panic. You’re only in a foreign country with very little knowledge of their language and customs. It’ll be okay. Just smile.”

Once the Jeep was offloaded, it had to be taken through another military checkpoint. After the import papers were verified and the Jeep inspected, Brian was free to leave the shipping port, but where the hell was Carley?! One of the nice soldiers pointed Brian in the direction he needed to go, which ended up being the exit of the docks into the city. Now Brian was in Mazatlan, and Carley was still unaccounted for. There was a long line of cars parked on the street with people standing near their vehicles, so Brian followed suit. After about 15 minutes of this, and still no sign of Carley, impatience prevailed, and Brian started wandering around asking anyone who would listen where they thought he should go. Most people had no idea; one person however pointed him towards a parking lot a few hundred yards away. The military guard at the entrance of the parking lot told Brian this was indeed where he needed to be, but it would cost 20 pesos to enter. He paid up, drove towards the official looking building, and pulled up just as Carley was exiting the building…Now Brian could breath again, Carley wasn’t lost forever :)

We had heard reports of Mazatlan being unsafe, so our plan was to head out of town as soon as we arrived. Looking back, this was a bit silly, as Mazatlan seems like a fine place to spend a little time, and the town that we hightailed it to probably sees more crime. We knew of a campground in Tepic that was apparently right in the middle of town. Our expectations were low, but we were thoroughly impressed when we pulled into camp. It looked like a park, with the grounds meticulously manicured. The lady who greeted us was very friendly, showed us around the place, and even picked some fresh fruit off of one of the trees in the campground for us. We stayed here for three nights, getting caught up on writing, and rarely leaving the campground. The wifi was lightning fast, so we even got to watch some Netflix.

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Los Pinos camp in Tepic

Our plan from there was to head towards the town of Tequila, home of, you guessed it! We had heard that it was a very nice town, and popular with Mexican tourists. Most of the major tequila producers are headquartered there, and the surrounding farmland is blue agave fields for miles. We found a nice campground about 45 minutes outside of Tequila in a town called Etzatlan. Etzatlan is a rural farming community,with a pretty little town center and a beautiful little zocalo (town square).

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Dealiah's Trailer Park Etzatlan

Our first side trip from Etzatlan was to Tequila and it was a major letdown. Tequila could be a nice town, as it has some great architecture, and loads of history. Instead, it is nothing but a collection of small shops selling the same junk as one thousand identical shops within walking distance. It’s also not particularly kept up, even by local standards.

We went to “Jose Cuervo’s Mundo Tequila” to get some food and a proper Margarita. The menu touted the place as a “Pizzaria” so we ordered one of their signature pizzas and Carley had a margarita. The margarita was one of the worst that she’d ever had. All sugar, pre mix, and hardly any tequila. If anybody should be able to make a good margarita, you would think a place called “Tequila World” in a town named Tequila should know what they’re doing. Then the pizza arrived. Half cooked, no sauce, with slices of hotdog, cold ham chunks, and uncooked bacon, accompanied by a bag of ketchup packets. The pizza hadn’t been cut so we asked the waiter for a knife and some plates. He brought us the knife from the bar, that they had been using for limes, covered in lime juice, and two dirty plates. We tried to choke down the pizza but ultimately sent it back and asked for a refund after only a few bites. The waiter was friendly and gave us a full refund.

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Our second side trip was to a town called Teuchitlan to see the circular ruins of Guachimontones. The circular pyramids are unique to the area and not found anywhere else in the world. The “pyramids” were interesting, and worth a visit if you are in the area, but we don’t feel they warrant a trip on their own. The town of Teuchitlan was decent and well kept. We had drinks at a small cantina near the ruins where an indigenous couple was selling traditional pre Spanish alcoholic drinks and juices.

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From Etzatlan we headed straight to what would be one of the most amazing cities we’ve ever been to, Guanajuato!
 

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