Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics, check out the travel/adventure/personal memoir I wrote:
Curious about a previous ten-year chapter in our nomadic lives, which includes eight years aboard a 35-foot sailboat in the tropics, check out the travel/adventure/personal memoir I wrote:
Find all our expense reports here. To learn what other full-time nomads spend each month, check out the blogs of our vanlife friends Duwan and Greg at Make Like An Ape Man.
Donate to Roaming About to help maintain this website.
A hike in Mesquite Canyon, located about an hour south of Loreto, Baja California Sur, Mexico, was on the agenda last year, especially after seeing photos about it on our friends Sandie and Karsten’s blog. They had told us how to get there, but our mistake was not writing down the instructions and neglecting to search for the approach on Google Map’s satellite image.
We found the correct entrance road in the spring of 2021, drove through the gravel pit area, parked, and explored two approaches on foot with Maya. One brought us to a gate, which we didn’t think allowed public access (it did) and the other gravel path brought us into the mountains after a couple of hot and rocky miles, before we believed this wasn’t right.
It was late afternoon by the time we returned to Zesty, so we spent the night in the peaceful environs of a gravel pit. Bummed, we gave up on this alleged incredible canyon hike. When we saw Sandie and Karsten again, they mentioned the trail started two miles past the gate.
Needless to say, this hike in Mesquite Canyon was high on the list during our recent return trip to Baja California Sur. This time, we did enough research and were determined to find the trail. Except, it was Sunday and the access road to the canyon was blocked off. Despair and disappointment arrived.
Continue readingIn the beginning of February, Mark, Maya, and I spent ten days on a pebble beach near Agua Verde in Baja California, Mexico. During that time, we visited this small village with our friends Duwan and Greg, in their car. Waiting for a fish taco lunch at the town’s waterfront, we spotted a protected bay with anchored boats and a sandy beach through binoculars. We decided to stop there on the drive home. Within five minutes of setting foot on that white beach and gazing at the surrounding rock formations, Mark and I concluded: “Let’s stop here for a week on our drive back north.”
So, a good six weeks later, after we explored more of the Baja California peninsula and rounded Cabo Este, we stocked up on water, propane, and food for another nine days off the beaten path. Our first night was spent at the end of the ten-mile paved stretch of road, which then turned into dirt for another 20 miles to Agua Verde.
(As always, hover over or click on the photos in galleries to read their captions.)
The road in
Those last 30 kilometers (20 miles) of the Agua Verde road were rutted and potholed; some were steep and narrow, down a treacherous slope, where you hoped nobody arrived from the other side. This was the second time we attempted this route. Heading down and looking ahead, clouds of dust announced opposing traffic. Sometimes, I would jump out of the passenger seat to assess the situation. On the return trip, it was more difficult to see oncoming cars. We hoped they would see our dust cloud.
At the bottom of the windy hill, the track was mostly flat but still in awful shape. The entire stretch of road, from Mex 1 (the main “highway” in Baja) to Agua Verde took us two hours and a half of being shaken. Despite our slow progress, car sickness still befell me. But it was worth it.
Our campsite
After a last, steep descend, an empty beach opened up. We had encountered quite a bit of traffic on the drive, so we feared the place would be packed. Not so. A group of fishermen was camped for the night by the entrance of the beach and multiple sailboats peacefully swayed at anchor. We had our pick to park and chose a spot higher up. From here, we could see the protected bay on one side and the windier Sea of Cortez on the other side. Depending on shade, we moved our chairs around the camper.
Continue readingFind all our expense reports here. To learn what other full-time nomads spend each month, check out the blogs of our vanlife friends Duwan and Greg at Make Like An Ape Man.
Donate to Roaming About to help maintain this website.
While any visit to the Agua Verde area by vehicle can only happen after taking a 30-kilometer/20-mile slow, steep, uncomfortable, and extremely bumpy ride (after another 10 kilometers/7 miles of pavement), exploring the East Cape by its access road Camino Cabo Este is even tougher and more demanding. No wonder this stretch is called one of the worst roads in Baja.
Luckily, you don’t have to drive the entire 100 kilometers (60 miles) of washboard and potholed dirt track in one go! As a matter of fact, it took us twelve fabulous days to complete this one-way adventure.
(As always, hover over or click on the photos in galleries to read their captions.)
La Paz
But first, Mark, Maya, our friends Duwan and Greg, and I spent a few days in La Paz, where we found a decent parking spot for three nights. Mark and I remember the capital of Baja California Sur as a pleasant town with a good vibe and historic charm. In the last sixteen years, it hasn’t changed much.
Continue readingOur arrival in Baja California, Mexico, was delayed by six weeks, because we decided to work for a month in the Phoenix area (Arizona, USA) after spending more money than anticipated on the cross-country drive from east to west. We also had a few important phone calls requiring unwavering internet and we needed an extra two weeks to prep our camper for the trip.
Soon after crossing the border in mid-January, we decided Mark should fly back to Massachusetts for a family matter. To accommodate that impromptu trip, we “rushed” south on the peninsula and prepared for his imminent return. Maya and I stayed at a campground in Loreto (Rivera Del Mar) during his ten-day absence.
(As always, hover over or click on the photos to read their captions.)
After all those arrangements and adjustements, you can imagine that we were more than ready and excited to take “a break from life” and start our Baja adventures. On February 1st, we filled our truck camper, T&T, with drinking water, propane, and food, emptied our sewage tanks at the campground, and headed south for a beach vacation along the Sea of Cortez. We spent one night at Juncalito Beach to get a decent start the next morning. The road to our destination in the Agua Verde area would be slow, treacherous, and mind blowing; a perfect introduction to Baja’s roughness and beauty.
As expected, the single-track dirt road contained sharp turns, potholes, small rocks, and gravel. Some parts were steep and nerves of steel were required. Mark did a great job bringing us down to the coastline, where the track turned into the usual Baja secondary road: washboard, sand, and gravel. The cloudy, drizzly weather was unusual.
Continue readingFind all our expense reports here. To learn what other full-time nomads spend each month, check out the blogs of our vanlife friends Duwan and Greg at Make Like An Ape Man.
Duwan and Greg also covered their month of February in two blog post: here (part 1) and here (part 2).
Donate to Roaming About to help maintain this website.
I invite you to come along for a particular 24-hour time period in Mark and my life, last week, in an area south of Todos Santos, on Baja’s west coast.
Mark, Maya, and I are driving north along the southwest coast of Baja California in Mexico. We’ve picked a free camping spot for the night at Jimi Beach, which we read about in iOverlander. Tomorrow morning, we will try to access a different place by a waterfall, which promises to be peaceful yet adventurous to reach. That’s why we opt for an early start and not push our luck today.
“I’m not sure camping at Playa Jimi is such a good idea,” I mention as our truck camper T&T (Temp & Thirsty) bridges the gap to our destination’s turnoff on the GPS.
“Why is that?” Mark asks.
“Well, you also read that people were robbed at gunpoint just south of there, two weeks ago. We want to be able to sleep at night and not worry about intruders.”
So far, we have never felt unsafe on the Baja peninsula, but it appears that the southern tip is more crowded, touristy, and potentially dangerous.
“I guess we can go to the waterfall spot instead. Better safe than sorry. It is getting late, though,” Mark says, as he focuses on the road ahead.
We usually aim to be settled by 5pm. It is 4pm and we have no idea what to expect. We change the waypoint on the GPS to the turnoff for this new location. Mark had scrutinized that area on satellite images ahead of time.
“I read the turnoff is very tricky, so look for it carefully. It is situated just past the second bridge,” he says. These “bridges” span arroyos (washes or dry river beds), which are often used as roads.
We slow down and pull over, off the main road. The turnoff is behind us, an extremely sharp bend that double-backs parallel to the highway. The only way to get there is by making a U-turn over four lanes. Luckily, this section of the pavement does not have a divider.
We wait until no cars are seen and make a quick loop on the asphalt to reach the dirt road, which leads to a barbed wire fence. I drag it open and close it again after Mark passes. That would keep the riffraff out, we both think.
“Well, that was the worst part,” Mark sighs.
We follow the dirt track and turn left. Based on Google Earth, this is a short and easy stretch to join the wide arroyo Mark had spotted. Except, now, years later, pointy bushes and plants with needles have grown and the access route is very narrow.
Not again, I think, remembering our hours of cutting and sawing trees and brush to reach a lovely pebble beach last month. All in an attempt to prevent scratching up our truck camper.
Mark grabs our handsaw, which now lives in the cab of the truck, and jumps out. “You drive, while I cut branches,” he instructs.
For the next forty minutes, he labors and sweats, while I inch our camper forward, trying to avoid the remainder of overhanging branches. There is no room to turn around and we have no idea how much further it is to a less narrow part of “road.”
The sun is setting fast. Eventually, we reach a wider stretch – we have arrived in the arroyo, where soft gravel and sand await us. Mark takes over the wheel and stops again after a few yards (meters).
Continue readingFind all our expense reports here. To learn what other full-time nomads spend each month, check out the blogs of our vanlife friends Duwan and Greg at Make Like An Ape Man.
Donate to Roaming About to help maintain this website.
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