Mundo4x4Casa
West slope, N. Ser. Nev.
It was July, 1965. Do not continue reading if you averse to nostalgia. An intrepid, 22 year old off-road traveler (Today i turn 72 years) and his new bride drove south from Los Angeles for a 10 day trip to "The Baja" as it was then called. A few months earlier, I purchased a 1949 Willys Overland Utility Wagon for $700. It sported a tired Chevy 265 c.i. V-8, 3 on the floor; some stiff coil overload springs all around (making a noxious ride on the rough roads of baja), an open Dana 25 front axle; an open Dana 41, 6 spline, offset rear axle; a Dana 18 transfer case; a cable operated Studebaker, 30% overdrive; 5.38:1 gears; and great big 7:00x16 wheels/tires. At least it had a good pale yellow paint job. Oh, and a cool spotlight on the driver's side. This was the first year of a 4WD option on the Ute Wagon, and the only year it had a jeep-style flat slat grill. I bolted on a roof rack right thru the roof to carry 3 jerry cans for gas, and a couple on the front fenders. As you can see in the pic at the bottom, the G.I. gaskets didn't seal too well. Here is the livery in September, 1965 grinding up the east side of the Sierra Nevada out of the Owens Valley:
and March of 1966 after doing my first of many SOA's:
We crossed the border with ease and tasted the treats of Tijuana and drove south to Ensenada. We gassed up everything in Ensenada (gas was $.22 per gallon). The price of diesel fuel from Pemex (Petroleos Mexicanos) had just doubled from $.08 per gallon to $.16 per gallon. At the time very few regular Mexicans drove diesel anything so it was a form of support for the trucking industry. This was the end of pavement for us. We took in La Bufadora and wheeled slowly down the powdery, rough dirt road (Mexico Highway 1) and stopped at the mordida shack at Maneadero. Paid our $1 to get past the 'guard' and motored south deeper and deeper into terra incognita. Much of the way was characterized by a plethora of routes all going generally the same direction across the Playa. Sometimes crossing numerable dry lake beds there would be up to 20 routes to chose from, each driver trying in vain to find the smoothest and least dusty route. Silty dust clouds were eubiquitous. Sometimes there were long stretches of river rock to to bounce our way on (probably fill) There was a half hearted attempt to grade the sub roadbed for Mex1, but a couple Chibascos had wiped out any progress and left a pot holed mess. Most preferred to use the multiplicity of routes off the graded track. Of course, no bridges. We had several iffy fords to get to the other side. Yes, there is water in Baja. For two days straight we could not drive more than 10 mph. It was just too rough. When we were near the coast with it's cooling breze, we slept in the back of the wagon. There was no rear seat along on this trip. Our eventual goal was Bahia San Quentin somewhere south of Ensenada on the Pacific Coast. I had all the maps available at the time and one of the best ones was one offered by an LA furniture magnate, Mr. McMahon. He spent a lot of time down there and had his own cartographer draw up the maps. The Auto Club of Southern California had some of the best maps available at the time. Remember, this is 2 years before the initial Baja 1000 off-road race. My personal tire supplier, ******** Cepek, entered that race with another guy and drove a brand new 1967 Jeepster on the race, only to be washed downstream and overturned by Chibasco flood waters. Back on Hwy 1: On one of the dry lake crossings Judy started to smell something burning coming from somewhere. There was so much dust it was hard to tell. I stop. No need to pull over. Raise the hood and find the engine IS ON FIRE! An electrical flame out taking some of the ignition wires on the back cylinders. No fire extinguishers in sight. I pick up handfuls of that talcum powder silt and put out the flames, caveman style. I'm surprised the whole rig did not go up in boom with all that leaking gas on the roof. Now we had issues about what wires were actually needed to operate the jeep and get it going again. In this era things were very simple. Fuel and spark were all you need. I found which wires needed replacing and 'stole' some wire from running lights, my beloved spot light and the heater wire to twist into the damaged wiring. Luckily i had some electrical tape along and got everything so it wouldn't short. Along the way we ran into a loaded Chevy ton and a half flat bed delivery truck that had broken a ring gear or pinion as he just stopped where he was and had the rear pig cover off and broken parts removed. He was traveling with his whole family of 4 or 5. Señora truck driver was making home made tortillas on the side of the road while the Ninos played. It was on a narrow stretch of road cut into the side of a hill on a curve so the Mexicaneering aspect was some of the kids rolled big rocks to the rear of the truck right in the middle of the road for about 100 yards back signaling to approaching drivers to slow down. It seems another passing truck driver was dispatched to Ensenada or wherever to fetch a new ring gear and/or pinion for the hapless Mexican. The part that sticks in my mind is the coolness of the people involved. No worry. No anxiety. Just make do. Eventually we made it to San Quentin and camped right on the beach. Judy was such a good sport. In doing a little beach combing we saw a row of pickup trucks parked up high above the surf line with some little shacks supporting a lot of people, mostly fishermen with little boats with outboard motors. Something was fishy about the trucks, however. They were all 4-6 year old 4WD's with one common element: every one had an expired (for several years) California (del Norte) license plate. I was glad to use my 2 years of high school Spanish with abandon. Everyone in this era were glad to see some gringos and we were glad to see them.
We took the barrato road back from Ensenada to Tijuana which had a lot more interesting character. The one thing I can say is it was a learning experience which catapulted me to do a lifetime of remote traveling and camping in the West. Judy died of Hodgkins disease in 1967 and subsequently I married Jean my Queen to whom I"ve been married for 47 years. We've made dozens of trips to Baja until about 1978 when things along the border started to scare us, so the trips stopped cold.
14 4WD's have come and gone, but we're still in the mix. 1965:4WD #1: and it could be the very model, the prototype, the Alpha, the original that started the SUV craze,
2015: 50 years later and the 14th 4WD:
regards, as always, jefe
and March of 1966 after doing my first of many SOA's:
We crossed the border with ease and tasted the treats of Tijuana and drove south to Ensenada. We gassed up everything in Ensenada (gas was $.22 per gallon). The price of diesel fuel from Pemex (Petroleos Mexicanos) had just doubled from $.08 per gallon to $.16 per gallon. At the time very few regular Mexicans drove diesel anything so it was a form of support for the trucking industry. This was the end of pavement for us. We took in La Bufadora and wheeled slowly down the powdery, rough dirt road (Mexico Highway 1) and stopped at the mordida shack at Maneadero. Paid our $1 to get past the 'guard' and motored south deeper and deeper into terra incognita. Much of the way was characterized by a plethora of routes all going generally the same direction across the Playa. Sometimes crossing numerable dry lake beds there would be up to 20 routes to chose from, each driver trying in vain to find the smoothest and least dusty route. Silty dust clouds were eubiquitous. Sometimes there were long stretches of river rock to to bounce our way on (probably fill) There was a half hearted attempt to grade the sub roadbed for Mex1, but a couple Chibascos had wiped out any progress and left a pot holed mess. Most preferred to use the multiplicity of routes off the graded track. Of course, no bridges. We had several iffy fords to get to the other side. Yes, there is water in Baja. For two days straight we could not drive more than 10 mph. It was just too rough. When we were near the coast with it's cooling breze, we slept in the back of the wagon. There was no rear seat along on this trip. Our eventual goal was Bahia San Quentin somewhere south of Ensenada on the Pacific Coast. I had all the maps available at the time and one of the best ones was one offered by an LA furniture magnate, Mr. McMahon. He spent a lot of time down there and had his own cartographer draw up the maps. The Auto Club of Southern California had some of the best maps available at the time. Remember, this is 2 years before the initial Baja 1000 off-road race. My personal tire supplier, ******** Cepek, entered that race with another guy and drove a brand new 1967 Jeepster on the race, only to be washed downstream and overturned by Chibasco flood waters. Back on Hwy 1: On one of the dry lake crossings Judy started to smell something burning coming from somewhere. There was so much dust it was hard to tell. I stop. No need to pull over. Raise the hood and find the engine IS ON FIRE! An electrical flame out taking some of the ignition wires on the back cylinders. No fire extinguishers in sight. I pick up handfuls of that talcum powder silt and put out the flames, caveman style. I'm surprised the whole rig did not go up in boom with all that leaking gas on the roof. Now we had issues about what wires were actually needed to operate the jeep and get it going again. In this era things were very simple. Fuel and spark were all you need. I found which wires needed replacing and 'stole' some wire from running lights, my beloved spot light and the heater wire to twist into the damaged wiring. Luckily i had some electrical tape along and got everything so it wouldn't short. Along the way we ran into a loaded Chevy ton and a half flat bed delivery truck that had broken a ring gear or pinion as he just stopped where he was and had the rear pig cover off and broken parts removed. He was traveling with his whole family of 4 or 5. Señora truck driver was making home made tortillas on the side of the road while the Ninos played. It was on a narrow stretch of road cut into the side of a hill on a curve so the Mexicaneering aspect was some of the kids rolled big rocks to the rear of the truck right in the middle of the road for about 100 yards back signaling to approaching drivers to slow down. It seems another passing truck driver was dispatched to Ensenada or wherever to fetch a new ring gear and/or pinion for the hapless Mexican. The part that sticks in my mind is the coolness of the people involved. No worry. No anxiety. Just make do. Eventually we made it to San Quentin and camped right on the beach. Judy was such a good sport. In doing a little beach combing we saw a row of pickup trucks parked up high above the surf line with some little shacks supporting a lot of people, mostly fishermen with little boats with outboard motors. Something was fishy about the trucks, however. They were all 4-6 year old 4WD's with one common element: every one had an expired (for several years) California (del Norte) license plate. I was glad to use my 2 years of high school Spanish with abandon. Everyone in this era were glad to see some gringos and we were glad to see them.
We took the barrato road back from Ensenada to Tijuana which had a lot more interesting character. The one thing I can say is it was a learning experience which catapulted me to do a lifetime of remote traveling and camping in the West. Judy died of Hodgkins disease in 1967 and subsequently I married Jean my Queen to whom I"ve been married for 47 years. We've made dozens of trips to Baja until about 1978 when things along the border started to scare us, so the trips stopped cold.
14 4WD's have come and gone, but we're still in the mix. 1965:4WD #1: and it could be the very model, the prototype, the Alpha, the original that started the SUV craze,
2015: 50 years later and the 14th 4WD:
regards, as always, jefe
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