Cycle News is a weekly magazine that covers all aspects of motorcycling including Supercross, Motocross and MotoGP as well as new motorcycles
Issue link: https://magazine.cyclenews.com/i/125808
N M 1l, '" "N r- en ~ Z ~ w Z W ...J U >- U by Bud Goosen Photos by Ron Duncan Start: 0 miles, Al!gust 31, 1972 at a place called La BuJadora on the south side of Punta Banda. The owners are Jose Le9n Tos~ano and his wife, Maria. Ed and Kathy Hughes and Ron and Linda Duncan are the owners of the cabin which is hanging over a 25-foot cliff above the Pacific Ocean. A nice view. , Slept the first night in the cabin. At six in the morning, I was waiting for Ron to get up. Kathy and Linda are up now, fixing a breakfast of coffee, eggs and bacon. We started getting our gear ready as soon as we finished breakfast. Loading our bikes was a laugh. To see all that necessary junk being bungie-corded down. Poor Yamaha 2'50 DT-l's; Ron's 1968 and mine a 1971 model, looked so heavy with all th'lt gear. We thouR-ht they were going to break in half and we weren't even riding them yet. We started them up at nine and got ready to go. Ron and 1 said our good·byes and Ron started off first. Hurrah! They. moved! Ron first, doing a little foot work on the ground and slipping in the dutch in order to get up the incline behind the cabin. I followed, doing the same. After going 25 feet Ron stopped, after leaving a trail of Crest toothpaste and aspirins behind him. Out of La Bufadora, doing real fine for .7 of a mile to the paved road; returned to Maneadero and made a right turn for .9 of a mile to the Immigration Station. Tourist cards are made out and checked here. Passed through San Vincente, Colonia CaIne!! at 76.3 miles. In San Quin tin we made a stop to check our gas. A t this pain t, the road was not paved in front of the town yet. We made our stop on the new dirt road to keep from getting run over by the local citizens. A Ford Ranchero came down the access road toward us. I t had California license plates and a bike in the back. They came to a stop just behind us and introduce.d themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Chuck Berry and he said he knew a few guys in the Prospectors, M.C. to which I belong. We talked for a while about San Vincente and checked in the book that I brough t with me called "Lower California Guidebook" by Peter Gearhard & Howard Gulick, 1964 edition. We found it to be very accurate on distances and informative about Baja. Berry said they were in terested in a side road right to Bahia San Quintin, where there was a flour mill which was built around 1885. We bought gas to top off our tanks and noticed a small jeep with a couple of old gentlemen in it. I asked what it was and he said "A Suzuki two-cycle jeep." First one 1 had ever seen. Funny thing about this little jeep, every time they would start off, the front wheels would shake like hell. Then you could see the little jeep's brake lights go on for an instant to stop the wobble and then start off again. They would pass us, then we would pass them again. This went on for quite a distance. After San Quintin ti,e pavement started to end. Now we are in a mllll'c-made hell. The dirt road gets worse from the bulldozers and trucks that pound it in to hub-deep powder. Yow. Powder and more powder and horrendbus dust. The bikes are getting a real workou t now. Made it to EI Rosario and Espinoza's Place for rest, gas and some very good food. It was getting late now and time to find a place to camp for the nigh t. We decided to camp on the beach. We found a nice spot with a shelter that someone had built. Laid our sleeping bags out, then along came two Mexican Nationals. They settled down by our campfire and began talking to Ron. They stayed for a long time, then one of them said "Good nigh t" and left. The other one stayed on longer talking to Ron. He finally left but came back again. They said "Good night" again. We started to settle down, then came a darn herd of cows and one of the men ClllOe back, too. He talked again with Ron and left for a third time. But the herd of cattle stayed. Ron and 1 tried to chase them away but they wouldn't ·go. The shel ter must have belonged to them from the' way they acted. We made camp again near a truck and camper from Washington. On the second day, we woke early and I started making coffee on the little Primus stove. The family in the camper was ready to leave. We said good-bye and thanks for letting us camp by them. As they drove off we saw something on the ground move. It was a little mouse. He was so small, you could hardly make him out. He really blended in with the gray beach rocks. I said, "Ron, look. A mouse". Back through EI Rosario to the main road. About 6 miles past town we came upon a group of five men and six boys from the United States. They nagged us down and offered us coffee and eggs. They were in the Oso Negro Baja Club. We talked with them for a while. They were headed for La Paz. We're 175.6 miles from Ensenada at EI Aguajito ranch.- Coffee, sodas, beer, and gas are sold there. There's an old American Automobile Assn. sign. all shot full of holes. The road climbs uut of the Callyon dIld starts up the steep Aguajito Grade. That's where I took my first fall. I was looking at a big water truck down in a gully. Don't look down when turning a comer uphill - you'll Ibse control. Ron took a picture of the water truck. There was someone staying with it so nobody would strip it. E I Arenaso, 187.5 miles from Ensenada, is a cattle ranch with a restaurant. While having a couple of beers we met two Mexican youths who were 'driving to La paz in an old Chevy. They left before us but we' caugh t up fast and passed them in their Tijuana Chevrolet going like hell. Later, we passed two boys from the Oso Negro Club. On to Santa Inez's cattle ranch for some rest. Then on up the dirt and rock strewn road, rocks (piedra) and more rocks, dust (pozo) , dust, dust and more dust. Now we encountered a truck on the (piedra) road, blocked from going uphill with more trucks behind us. The road was narrow with very large rocks above and below. This made it impossible to pass on either side. Ron and I built a narrow trail around the truck and made it past. The truck had fuel pump trouble and the driver was trying to fix it. This is where I got gas in my eyes and face by trying to be a good guy. I blew in the gas tank and it back flushed right in my face. I stopped it from burning by rinsing off with water from our canteens. We arrived at Laguna Chapala, 274.8 miles from Ensenada. Rancho Laguna Chapala is a small cat tied ranch on a windswept dry lake bed. We had good food and beer here but they don't have gas for sale. Ron had a problem with a water hole. Yes, a water hole. A few days before we began our trip it had rained down there. 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