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A Life Less Ordinary

Tag: camper life

Agua Verde – A Remote Gem & Highlight in Baja California, Mexico

In 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.”

Agua Verde bay

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.

One-lane dirt road towards Agua Verde

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.

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New York Surprises – Waterfall Extravaganza!

“Where are you going first?”

This is not a weird question at all, when you talk to people hitting the road indefinitely. And the poser of said question might get annoyed with the ever-present “We don’t know yet” answer coming from our mouths.

But, first things first; Mark and I had to take care of a few specifics before an actual destination could be determined. Once our departure from Newburyport became imminent – the truck camper was taking shape, the bikes didn’t fall of the new ladder rack, help was in place for my in-laws, ties with friends and family were rekindled, and personal projects reached a stopping point – we could finally look at a map.

Two days before we coasted out of the driveway with our dog, Maya, and our belongings, Mark and I decided to head towards Chicago, Illinois, after visiting a couple of friends in Massachusetts and New York. I contacted three sets of friends in the Windy City, aka Chi-Town, to gauge their availability and location for a meet-up. Then, on September 17th, 2021, the three of us left Newburyport for the last time with a new-to-us vehicle and – somewhat of – a plan!

A quick, one-night stop at good friends in Uxbridge, MA, was followed by a Saturday night visit to a work friend of Mark’s in New York, who cooked his staple meat-loaden pasta sauce for us, following an amazing family recipe.

It was on Sunday, when our trip west was to start in earnest, that we realized we weren’t in a rush anymore. Why hurry to Chicago? We’d returned to our own home, our own routine, our own lives, our own priorities. We were our own boss again with few responsibilities! And, the weather was unseasonably pleasant with temperatures in the mid-70s Fahrenheit (mid-20s Celsius).

“Let’s explore New York a bit,” I exclaimed. A state so close by, yet so far away, as I’d never actually ventured into upstate New York for any length of time, other than quick visits – to our friend Sean and Mark’s college town Troy once, when on one of our many road trips across the USA.

(As always, click on or hover over photos to read captions.)

Schenectady

Mark grew up in Schenectady. I’m pretty good at spelling, but when he challenged me with this one years ago, I miserably failed. To make matters worse, Mark also lived in Niskayuna, a town to its east. I still have to look up how to write that one. But, I’m happy to say that I finally visited both cities, thanks to our friend Sean, who offered us a quick tour, that Sunday of our “real departure.”

While both men convinced me there is “nothing to see” in Schenectady, I enjoyed a stroll through the Stockade, an 82-acre historic district located on the banks of the Mohawk River. It is the oldest neighborhood in the city and has been continuously inhabited for more than 300 years. The National Park Service describes it as “the highest concentration of historic period homes in the country.” It is here that Mark’s parents used to own a house, while their son attended college and lived on campus nearby.

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