Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1980's

..... 00 ..... 0') Td c.don cactus often dominates the scenery. Knobby touring: Baja Caillornia By Rod Frazier Baja. Baja California. Just the name makes your shifter toe twitch and your throttle hand clench. As if thousands of miles of dirt roads and trails weren't enough, blue skies, crystal waters, isolated beaches, and friendly people add to the attraction. This article suggests only one of the numerous back country toun available to the motorcyclist - bet you can't take just one. S2 South from San Felipe to Bahia de Los Angeles via Puertocitos and Bahia San Luis .Gonzaga is one of the most scenic yet easily accessible off-road sections on the peninsula. Combining broken pavement. deep sand. rugged grades, isolated fish camps and tourist resorts, it provides a good sampling of what Baja has to offer. The jumping-off point, San Felipe, was once a fIShing town but is now a community of some 5,000 which caters strongly to the tourist trade. Accessible by pavement from the west and the north, it is often congested with motor· cycles, dune buggies, campers and motorhomes. Holiday weekends are party times here and peace and quiet are at a premium. The last time I was there all the motels were full and we ended up paying six bits apiece for the privilege of sleeping on the beach at a trailer park. Normally, however, lodging is available for any budget. Supplies and gasoline are also available. Fill up on both because facilities to the south are always questionable. From San Felipe to Puertocitos is 51 miles of relatively good road. The first few mi1es are sandy but the surface then becomes firmer, though often wash- boarded. There are views of the Sea of Cortez and the Sierra San Pedro Martir, tallest range in Baja, but otherwise the scenery is rather ordinary, at least in comparison to what lies in wait. Vege· tation includes ocotillo, mesquite, smoke trees, palo verde, cholla cactus and the odd cardon. If you don't see a sign, ask directions before you leave town. On my first trip we missed the main road and took one that led us into a maze of two-trackers near the ocean. At one point we rounded a comer in a sandwash and received instant confirmation of heatstroke. There, in the scantiest of bikinis, stood a young lady not hard to look at, smiling and waving in the friendliest possible manner. Once we decided further staring would be impolite we averted our gazes far enough to notice her car, a maroon Mercedes sedan, resting on its body panels in soft sand. Nodding drowsily in the front seat was her companion, a young man apparently unconcerned with his predicament. She told us that help had already been summoned and conveyed the definite impression that she considered the whole affair quite normal and, in fact, not disagreeable - just a small adventure, Baja-style. Worried about their safety we asked if they had water and she replied, "A little. Do you want some?" About halfway to Puertocitos is a small rancho called La Posada where sometimes you can buy cold drinks and gasoline from 50·gallon drums. Puertocitos is a small town which seems to be populated mainly by Americans. It has a small but good cafe, rustic accommodations, a grocery store, and a Pemex station which is s01~etimes out of gas. On the rocky' pomt there are three hot springs which are accessible at low tide. There is also a small. shallow and rocky bay which becomes almost dry at extreme tides. The 52 miles from here to Bahia San Louis Gonzaga is where the rough stuff starts. Motorcycles or four-wheeldrives are best from here on, even though the Mexicans traverse the route casually in ancient pickups and two and a half ton trucks. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen them do it. About 11 miles south of Puertocitos is the first of three severe grades called by some the Three Sisters. At one time, beCore the paved road was completed on the other side of the peninsula there was a volunteer maintenance man who kep the road in repair with hand tools and depended on donations for a salary. Apparently there is no longer enough traffic to make it pay so he has taken his enterprise e.lsewhere, leaving things to infrequent and inadequate government attention. I have seen pictures of the road taken in 1973 and it was dramatically better than it is now. The really gnarly stuff lasts about eight miles. Stop often, for the view of the Sea of Cortez and the offshore islands is magnificent. The guide books mention ranchos with services along the route but don't depend on them none were operating the last time I was through. As you approach Bahia San Luis Gonzaga you will first "see a sign indicating the road to Papa Fernandez's resort. Basically a fISh camp, this settlement also features meals, cabins, boats for rent, and gas and water if you're lucky. Again, the last time I was there Papa was out of everything and questioned us eagerly as to whether or not we had passed his supply truck on the way in. Papa's daughter, Alfonsina, also has a resort here, a few miles farther on and at the tip of the sand spit which separates the bay from the back bay. Here we were able to buy aviation gas from a drum and dine on sausage and egg burritos. Rough rooms are available but we were unable to get anything to drink but 90 degree beer - no soft drinks or water. I am told that normally water is available, but don't count on it. Supply problems are common in the back country. The'water here is great for snorkel· ing but you should know that the local fishermen catch a lot of sharks in the bay, which they then dry for shipment to Japan or truck to the canneries in Ensenada. . From Gonzaga Bay it is necessary to head west to Mexico Highway I to connect with the road to Bahia de Los Angeles. This 52-mile section presents a variety of interesting terrain and scenery. At about 15 miles you will leave the alluvial fan of the coast and begin to wend your way through boulder fields decorated with elephant trees, until you arrive at Rancho Las Arrastras de Arriola, at about 21 miles. Marked by the rusting skeletons of discarded equipment and vehicles, this humble adobe and thatch shelter exists apparently because of a nearby turquo~ mine, which is worked by hand. Some guide books says hot food and water is available, but once again. don't believe it. If there are people living there they will probably offer to sell you small handworked pieces of turquoise for a dollar or two. Buy if you can afford it, for life there is hard. Besides, I once bought a small piece for a dollar and four of US were invited in for breakfast. We refused the food of course, since there was a large family: but the coffee was some of the best I've had in Mexico and the chance to prac· tice my pitiful Spanish was welcomed At that time, the head of the household was alternating between working the mine and fishing commercially in the Gulf. His term for motorcycles, incidentally, was "caballos del diablo," meaning "horses of the devil." . There is a well there, butit has gone "poco malo." The last time I was through the rancho was deserted, but maybe by the next time another family will have moved in to challenge the isolation and harsh environment. Another 17 miles or SO will bring you to the Arroyo Calamajue, a true surprise for the unsuspecting traveler, for down its center flows a year round stream, undrinkable and alkaline, but satisfactory for an impromptu and cooling bath, with or without clothes. Near where the road enters the arroyo are the ruins of the Mission Calamajue, founded in 1766 by the Jesuits and abandoned soon after due to a shortage of water. There is a sign indicating the site, which consists only of rock outlines and mounds of adobe where ~alls once stood. Eight miles of splashing back and forth across the shallow stream and the road climbs out of the arroyo onto th~ desert floor once again. From here on you ride through amazing stands of cirio and cardon - giants rising from a floor of almost white sand - until you encounter the pavement of Mexico I at the abandoned Rancho El Crucero. The tall, strange cirio, or "boojum," is found nowhere else in the world. From El Crucero it's only 10 miles south to~Parador Punta Prieta, where there is a Pemex station, small grocery store, and tiny cafe. The proprietor of the store speaks good English and is particularly friendly and helpful. He also has a shortwave ra.dio which can be used in case of emergency. The cafe doesn't look like much but the food is cheap and good.

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