Freshly scrubbed and feeling a little spoiled we filled up our water tank and left the fancy RV Park near Ensenada to explore the mountains of Sierra de San Pedro Martir. It would be about a 3 hour drive so we stopped at a small village along the way for a bite to eat. Street food was the order of the day and we approached a small stand selling “birria”. As this wasn’t described as one of the typical Mexican foods in any of our guidebooks, it was an opportunity to try out my (admittedly tarzan-like) Spanish. My inquiry of “Que es birria?” was greeted with a big smile as she lifted the lid and showed me a pot of non descript stewed meat. Dave shrugged at me and we decided to go for it. We each had a few tortillas and washed it down with a couple bottles of coke. As we needed to get moving, I decided I’d finish my coke in the truck. However, as I carried the glass bottle across the street, there was quite a commotion. The man running the shop next to hers chased me down and explained (primarily gesturing) that I could not take the bottle. I realized then that our bill must not have included the bottle deposit but everyone was very good natured and the fellow obligingly poured the leftover coke into a Styrofoam cup and ran the bottle back to the birria stand. (note: a google search later showed that birria could in fact be made of goat, mutton or beef  but not pork – I still have no idea what we ate but it was tasty).

We turned onto the 100 kilometre road to the park shortly after our lunch break and were completely wowed as we watched the landscape turn gradually to mountains and then into pine forest as we drove upward. The setting was unlike anything that comes to mind when I conjure images of Mexico, and in fact reminded us quite a bit of home. There were no facilities in the park but it was well maintained and the rangers were very friendly. We found a beautiful little campsite and after our noisy nights at San Miguel, we savoured the solitude (it quickly became clear that we were the only campers in the entire park) as well as the beauty. There were great opportunities for hiking, biking and even a little scrambling on the rocks scattered liberally through the campground.

One of the draws to the Park had been the opportunity to see a California Condor. There is a release program operated here that is among the most successful in the Americas and we had hoped to spy one of the massive birds. Unfortunately, luck was not with us and we didn’t get to see one but we did have fun watching the various birds that flitted about. Many of them were familiar faces from our feeders at home and we especially enjoyed a striking pair of western bluebirds that put on quite a show for us.

Another perk of the park was the opportunity to visit the world class observatory located high up in the mountains. We dropped in and Ignacio (nicknamed Nacho), the site supervisor, drove us up to the tower and showed us around. It was very cool to see and the view from the tower was breathtaking. This may be the only location in Baja where you can see the Pacific Ocean, the Sea of Cortez, and Baja’s highest mountain “Pique del Diablo”.

We likely would have lingered at Sierra de Pedro San Martir a little longer but we realized the water in our tank was somewhat brackish and, without a secondary water source, we were concerned that we may not be hydrating adequately. We opted to head towards the coast. We found ourselves on the beach (in temperatures 20 degrees warmer) less than two hours later. Once again, we were the only campers there and we took full advantage of the endless expanse of empty sand dunes and beach. It turns out that Chester is becoming quite the beach dog. He is no longer afraid to get his feet wet and he has even stopped drinking the sea water. For him, though, the best part is the sand. He loves nothing more than to flip over and roll on his back in it. He’s so gleeful in his rolling that we can’t really help but laugh whenever he does it.

Unfortunately, there were a few minor knocks on this blissful location. First, was the piped water. Running water and showers were available but the water itself was more than a little saline. There is a considerable amount of agriculture in the area and, given that all of the river beds were dry, we suspect that the local aquifers have been significantly compromised by salt water intrusion. By this time we had learned to keep a good supply of bottled drinking water on hand but it is an incredibly odd experience to take a saltwater shower. Nothing lathers…period. The other (perhaps less significant but much more annoying) drawback was the flies. As soon as we were away from the beach, they would descend en masse and our efforts to shoo or swat them proved completely futile (at that moment a fly swatter topped the list of things I wished we had brought). The next morning we broke down and purchased one of those sticky fly tapes from the local store. I honestly despise these things as they always look disgusting but we were ready to try anything. To their credit, they must still sell them for a reason. After just one afternoon hanging in the camper, the tape was full and the camper was effectively fly-free. Haha!! Victory was ours!!!

(Dave is writing now for a while)
After a couple of days on the Pacific we decided to cross Baja to the Sea of Cortez. We managed to find drinking water in a small town and filled our tank and jug for 50 pesos.

The trip from coast to coast was unique. The highway was good; the landscape unworldly; and gas stations non-existent, but fear not, entrepreneurial citizens are there to help.

The cacti and trees were straight from a Dr. Seuss book with rocks and mountains completing the Martian landscape.

As we arrived at Bahia de Los Angeles we were treated to a beautiful view of blue seas and rugged colorful islands. We got a campsite at Daggett’s and thought we had found a little slice of heaven. We had our own palapa to shield us from wind and sun right on the beach. We set up camp and had a wonderful evening just relaxing.

The next day we headed to town to visit the local museum, pick up a few groceries (and ice cream treats) and drop off our laundry. Then we headed to Punta La Gringa, a point that had been recommended to us for a quiet beach and good fishing. It was only 11 kilometers from our camp and the first half of the road is paved. After that it is perhaps the worst washboard road I have ever driven. Our cabinet repair in the camper got a severe test and appears to have passed with flying colors. As rough as the road was it was worth it. We started off fishing and although we could get fish to follow our hooks in we couldn’t get them to bite. The setting was stunning and we enjoying ourselves despite our lack of luck. Eventually we decided to move over to the beach area and take a little swim. The water was a little cool at first, but nothing compared to Alberta standards and soon we were having a nice dip. We tried to coax Chester in but couldn’t get him much past his knees. He was soon exploring the shore and came running back to us with a dried out octopus carcass. Being of questionable nutritional content I took it from him and tossed it into the water. Without thinking, Chester leapt into the water after his treasure and soon discovered that his feet weren’t touching the ground. He quickly dog paddled a U turn and was headed straight back to shore. He looked rather confused and despite our coaxing he was not going to swim again, at least not that day. He did however seek out several more dry octopi and insisted on eating the tentacles off them. We were rather concerned but he seems to have survived with no ill effects.

While on the beach, we watched an Osprey eating his catch that looked like a nice sized trout. The pelicans were diving into the water and coming up with fish, which if they didn’t manage to swallow immediately, they would be sharing with the seagulls all about them. We also saw fish leap completely out of the water presumably chasing food of some kind. These were long fish up to 50 cm.. Obviously there were fish here, so we decided to pull out our rods and try again. All we could get were these little fish that had been following our bait before. We managed to land one of them but released it as it wasn’t going to feed anybody. A couple came along in an old pickup truck to collect camping fees. With our rough Spanish we managed to explain that we weren’t camping and the gentlemen starting trying to explain how and where we should be fishing. As we understood, if we got bait and went up by the wooden posts, we would catch at least 10 fish in an hour. But where would we get bait? They could help if we would just wait they would bring back “calamar”. The “un momemto” was a while but they returned with a black bag. We were expecting baby squid as we had gotten on previous trips to Mexico and thought this was way too much, but when we looked in the bag it was just one large squid that must have been way over a kilogram (Kristel estimates many kilos). We thought it was way too much but as they only wanted 60 pesos for it we bought it. It was fresh (still breathing) and were tempted to just take it home to eat. We moved to the prescribed location and cut some tentacle pieces for bait and were almost immediately rewarded with bites and quickly Kristel landed her first Mexican fish with considerable excitement. Despite throwing back a few small ones, we soon had three nice sized fish to eat. We cleaned them, cut up some of the squid for bait the next day, and fed the seagulls with the remains.

We headed back to camp and enjoyed a wonderful evening reading and watching the sunset.

The following day we mostly hung out at the camp, doing a little reading, writing most of this post and generally relaxing, but we did go out for supper at Restaurante Alejandrina. Kristel had great tostadas and I enjoyed a mystery meal chosen because I had never heard of it before and now I can’t remember the name.

The next day we packed up and headed back to the main highway before turning south. We crossed into Baja California Sur at Guerrero Negro, where we stopped for a few supplies. The landscape along the way became even scrubbier desert and about the time we began to feel that this was not going to be a place we would want to stay we came upon the wonderful oasis of San Ignacio. It is located in a small date palm forest next to a river with beautiful clear water. We found a great campsite beside the river complete with our own palapa and even furnished with school bus seats. The water is great for swimming and we were entertained by a concert of bull frogs in the evening.