Category: Yoga

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Eight

Leigh, Surfing, Travel, Yoga

Note: This is a recap of Day Eight of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico.  You can catch up on day seven here. 

Ferry day!  This was the most unpredictable part of the trip.  When we made our plans, the driving part had some wiggle room, but was overall pretty clear.  The ferry leg wasn’t, and we were excited to see what it would bring.

In the morning we walked to a coffee shop for delicious coffee and cookies.  The girl at the register told the guest ahead of us she worked 14 hour days.  She must have put all that time into her recipe for blonde brownies, because it knocked our socks off.  We spent a few minutes happily sipping coffee, shaking our heads and saying things like just how good is this brownie…

Once properly sugared up, we got back on the road and headed to surf Cerritos.  It was a family-filled beach with a lot of kids getting up on big foam boards wearing baggy rash guards and grins from ear to ear.

We rented two boards – an egg for Edgar and a pink foam long board for me.  We headed right out, and I promptly got clobbered on the first wave and banished myself to white water.  Edgar paddled out and got into some better waves.  We were glad we had wet suits, because the water was still pretty chilly.

After the quick surf session we headed for Cabo, intending to surf there too, but traffic was building and we didn’t want to risk missing the ferry.  We gave Cabo a glance and turned back toward La Paz, stopping for some pizza and coca lites.  I thought the restroom signs were hilariously clear.

They really gotta go!

The ferry guys put us back in line to be inspected and weighed, so note to readers, the dry run is not necessary.  We had the same guys at the inspection and weigh stations as we did the day prior; the only difference this time was a fee after we were weighed.  That seemed a little suspect, and we made a few noises in that direction, but in the end we paid it and got in line to drive on the boat.

Only one person was allowed to be in the vehicle  during the loading process, so we split up and Edgar drove the bug on board, while I filed in with the other walk-ons in the passenger line.  We met back up at reception and got escorted to our room. Bunk beds, bathroom and a separate living room area.  Pretty snazzy!

Dinner was being served on the upper deck, so even though we weren’t all that hungry, we went up to check it out.  It was kinda like the dining area on a cruise ship, but buffet style.  We had chicken, tortillas and banana pudding for dessert.

Back in our room, we tried to watch TV but couldn’t get it to work, so I checked at the desk to see if they offered movies for rent.  They did, at no cost, and they had some in English!  We floated across the sea of Cortez while watching the epic struggle to climb Everest, then turned in.  Edgar says he slept like a baby, but I had a bit of a hard time with the rock of the boat, and doors nearby opening and closing.

Miles traveled on day eight: 250 by road and 260 by boat.

On Day Nine: Sayulita and home sweet home.

 

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day 7

Leigh, Surfing, Travel, Yoga

Note: This is a recap of Day Seven of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico.  You can catch up on day six here. 

Our search for coffee in La Paz took us to a shop just a block away from the hotel, with Shakespeare quotes on the wall.  We enjoyed our flat white and mocha outside, next to the Sea of Cortez, and took a few moments to catch up on some work.  Then it was time for the big event of the day: getting ferry tickets.

When we mapped out our trip, we knew we needed to catch a ferry ride from La Paz over to Mazatlan, and main land Mexico.  We found some information online, but we weren’t 100% sure on the details.  Did it only go to Mazatlan on weekdays?  Was the Saturday trip just to Topolobampo? (Still need a pronouncer on that one but it’s fun to try!)  How quickly would it fill up?

Finding the ferry dock wasn’t too tricky, and we asked the man directing traffic where we needed to go to get a ticket.  He motioned to the building and parking lot.  We parked, walked inside, and took a number for the ticket counter.  The office was filled with what appeared to be local families, on their way to or back from vacation.  I’m pretty sure we were the only Americans driving our ’68 bug across the country for kicks.

At our turn at the window, we learned we needed to be inspected and weighed first, before a ticket for the vehicle could be issued.  We went back outside and got in line for that.  The agent in our lane asked about our paperwork, which we had, and our VIN number, which we could not point out for him.  I’m sure it’s on the car somewhere, but we had no idea where.  After a few words of explanation, and absolutely no inspection, he waved us through to the scales.

The bug weighed in at around 1500 pounds.   Back inside the building, we purchased two passenger and one vehicle ticket for the ferry the next day, and got instructions to show up two hours before departure.

Feeling confident about the next leg of the adventure, we headed off to celebrate with some waves at Todo Santos, which basically involved driving straight south to the Pacific side once again.

Lunch was on a nice patio in town, with two stray dogs snoozing nearby.  Before we ate our meal, dessert arrived via a woman and her children, selling donuts for five pesos.  We got two.

The key to burning off chocolate icing is paddling out, so we hit the surf shop in town to pick up a leash for one of our boards.  The woman running the store was happy to sell us the leash, but cagey about the local breaks, clearly pretending not to know much about La Pastora, which we’d heard was amazing, and steering us more toward Cerritos.  But we wouldn’t be detoured so easily, and double checked the online descriptions for La Pastora, which was rumored to be a good place to get barreled if you hit it on the right day.  (To be clear, only one of us was looking for that sort of thing.)

The bug was a trooper and pressed on through all kinds of sand, brush and hills.  Several times we spotted farms and fences, and surmised this might be La Pastora, only to walk down to a flat beach.  Finally, around sunset, we saw an opening in the brush and turned off — there it was!  The waves were once again no match for my skill level, so Edgar grabbed a few while I flowed on the beach.

Trust me, he’s out there.

When the sun went down, we headed to a hotel I had booked online, but when we got to the gate no one answered.  There was a note and a giant bell to ring for the clerk.  We gave it a couple pulls… nothing.  Called the number…nothing.  The neighbor came home and mentioned the desk kept “crazy hours” and that if we kept trying someone “might answer.”  Rather than being stranded at dark in the street, we decided to press on into town and found the Maria Bonita.  The young girls working the counter enjoyed some giggles at our Spanish, but they did have rooms available, and we had ourselves a place to rest.  Dinner was sushi with a hot pepper Mexican twist…. an unexpected and tasty fushion!

Miles traveled on day seven: about 50 from La Paz to Todo Santos, plus a good amount of wandering in search of La Pastora.

On day eight: We watched the struggle to climb Everest while traveling through the night on the Sea of Cortez.

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Six

Leigh, Surfing, Yoga

Note: This is a recap of Day Six of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico.  You can catch up on day five here. 

The hotel offered breakfast, so we made the most of the coffee, fruit, and yogurt — the last made by the waitress herself, the night before.  The morning was overcast and a little chilly, so we decided to see about getting some laundry done before heading to the beach.  While at the hotel, we met a surfer named Chad from Colorado.  We had a good chat about surfing, traveling and a little politics.  He asked if he could use Edgar’s phone to email his wife and let her know he’s alive.  He said he was in the middle of a three-week surfing pilgrimage, and that she allows this once every year.  But, she does worry if she doesn’t hear from him, and he was only carrying a flip phone.  We shared our technology and got the message through, then told him we’d see him at the beach.

Scorpion Bay has a reputation for being one of the best and longest waves in the world.   If conditions are right, you can get on one, take a right, and just keep going.  The bug got a warm welcome at the break, where Chad and some other folks were already parked and suiting up.  A guy who introduced himself as Bubba, also from Colorado, couldn’t get enough of our Green Machine, and took several photos for the boys back home.  He was doing the trip in a VW bus, and explained he belonged to a VW fan club.  “They’ll love this!” he said with a big grin on his face, snapping photos like he was with the paparazzi.  He also showed us the sticker he had on his bus, which celebrated the journey.  It read, “I Survived the North Road!”  I wanted one for the bug, but didn’t get around to finding the right shop.

The super clean lines were calling, so we waved to the guys and headed down a little ways to the next of the four points.  The rocks and the swell were intimidating for me, so I took a flow on the beach while Edgar climbed down and paddled out.  It was breaking clean, at waist to shoulder high, and he reported back that it was super fun.

The sun came and I had plenty of time to salute it repeatedly and then work on hand stands on the beach.  I can only hold for a second or two, but it feels like forever.  I’m always hesitant to practice on hard surfaces since I know I’ll tumble, but the soft sand was perfect and the bug was also kind enough to offer a steady assist.

As we got ready to leave, we ran into a Japanese surfer with a board tucked under his arm.  He was so excited he was running for the beach.  “I am at the end of my surfing trip,” he told us.  “I think I will go to America and work some more, save up more money, until I have enough to go again.”  Living the life.

We needed to get moving to stay on schedule for the ferry, but we wanted to stare at the lines a while longer so we grabbed some fish tacos at a beachside restaurant.  While we waited for the food, I pet a tiny dog, who didn’t mind the interruption to his afternoon nap.

Then it was time.  We put the bug in gear and headed for La Paz, about six hours away.  The road was all pavement, and smooth-sailing, quite the change from our bumpy ride in.  Even though we were cruising along with one headlight and two fog lights, we were greeted with quick waves and the “move along” motion at the checkpoints.  We found the La Perla hotel for sixty USD, a safe place to sleep right by the water.  When we pulled into the turnout for valet parking, the attendant said it was okay to just keep it right there.  The workers all regarded our rig with a little smile on their faces.

We walked to a nearby Italian restaurant and ate sandwiches for dinner and watched people cruise down the main strip.  For dessert we had cheesecake, which we thought was going to be carrot cake.  We could tell the waitress wasn’t sure when we ordered, and when she delivered it she was looking sheepish.  “My English is not so good,” she said.  But that was okay because the cheesecake was.

You Are Here

Miles traveled on day six: 242 smooth ones on the best road so far

On day seven: We conducted a dry run for the ferry, and annoyed a surf shop owner who tried to lure us away from “her” waves.

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Three

Travel, Yoga

Note: This is a recap of Day Three of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico.  You can catch up on day two here. 

We had a nice breakfast with our Philippino friend and innkeeper, and headed to the bank to get some cash.  We were surprised to find a bank south of San Diego didn’t offer withdrawals in pesos, which we normally would have ordered in advance.  No matter, we got USD knowing we’d find an exchange place closer to the border.

There are a few tricky things about taking a car into Mexico from the US.  You need Mexican insurance and a temporary vehicle permit if you plan to go to the mainland.  It’s not required for Baja, so some travelers might be in for a surprise after driving around Mexico for a while, then deciding to cross on the ferry or drive around.  Permits are required, and you’ll need to be near a border crossing to get one.  To save yourself some hassle, look up the nearest temporary vehicle permit office to your border crossing city.  Check their hours too, as you don’t want to get stuck arriving just after closing.

Once you find the office, you’ll need to turn in your paperwork. You’ll need originals of your title and registration, and then copies of your driver’s license, passport, and tourist visa, all in the same name as the person responsible for the vehicle. You’ll pay a fee and a deposit to have your car in the country.  This deposit is refundable when you take the car back out of Mexico within 180 days.  The office will give you paperwork on this, so it’s best to read and make sure you understand the agreement.

We found out that this vehicle office used to give the individual temporary visas too, but stopped doing that at an undetermined time, which apparently took place prior to our arrival.  We were directed to go to the Tijuana airport to receive those.  I’m referencing those little sheets you fill out on international flights, and that are checked at customs.  Just because we didn’t fly in didn’t mean we didn’t need them, and the airline would need to see this when we flew out.

We headed to the airport without really knowing where we would go when we arrived.  We asked a couple of folks and got pointed in the right direction.  The paperwork required a small fee, of course, but we paid it, showed our passports and were on our way.

Edgar had received a recommendation for lunch at Hotel Rosa in Ensenada.  It was another gorgeous setting, with a breeze off the water, an infinity pool, and a bountiful supply of chips and guacamole.  With a locale this pretty, I couldn’t help getting into a few poses, and even got Edgar in on the action.

Our bellies full, we headed to the car… which again would not start.  We checked the wire that had given us trouble the day before, and it was holding solid.  Edgar did a little more investigating, and then I noted that it was making a clicking noise when he tried to start it. Once he heard that, he grabbed a hammer and had me try to turn it over while he hit the starter — boom.  Success.

We were headed to San Quintin, but stopped short when dusk fell and followed a sign toward a beach hotel in Camalu.  The road was bumpy and littered with stray dogs and a few horses.  No hotel in sight.  Just when we thought we should turn around, we spotted a large 2.5 story building (the third was in progress) with one lone dog out front.  Tell me, does this place look open for business?

Well, we were wrong and it was warm and inviting, with lights on and music playing when we opened the door.  Emmanuel recommended the lobster with vegetables.  He even allowed us through a back hall and into Room 12 so we could select our own.  Check out my plate — this was just my half!

I stuffed myself silly but couldn’t finish it.  We asked Manny to put our leftovers in the fridge.  We found a “parking spot” under the balcony and settled in for the night.

Miles traveled on day three: 195 (with a few hours paused at the border)

On day four, we drove through a swarm of bees and met an old radio DJ named Fibber McGee, who just happened to tell us the truth….

 

You’re Doing it Right

Yoga

No matter what business, hobby or fitness regime you’re into, you will always find someone on social media who looks like they’re doing it “better”.  Maybe they have the toys you only have in your dreams, or maybe they’re nailing the pose you’ve been attempting for years.  One of the things I appreciate about my yoga training is that our instructors emphasized every pose looks different in every body.  The length of your limbs and the way your hips are set are not the same as the yogi next to you, or the one looking so perfect on your feed.

So do it your way.  Find a quiet spot away from a mirror and practice the way you want to, for as long as you want to.  Skip a ridiculous amount of chaturangas.  Stay in child’s pose for a length of time you might have previously considered too long.  Breathe.  Feel how you feel instead of how you look.

My friend Sarah (above) encourages you with this thought:

 

Accept where you are right now.  Never compare today’s version of you with yesterday’s version of you or anyone else.

 

What is Yoga?

Edgar, Yoga

In Sanskirt (a Hindu language) the word “yoga” loosely translates as “unite” or “attach”, but its etymology centers around concentration.  Yoga’s origin can be traced back to 5th and 6th century India. It was also originally tied directly to Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism. The original practice was somewhere between a form of physical worship, sacrifice, and prayer. It was a manifestation of commitment and faithfulness. A true yogi, in this sense, w/ this level of commitment, could do miraculous things w/their body. In the 19th and 20th century yoga found its way to the west, and like all things, it was changed by its trip.

The timing of yoga’s arrival to the West had a significant impact on yoga, as well as the West. Imagine the year of our Lord 1801 U.S.A., and in strolls this very visual Eastern-based, focused, controlled practice. In the face of a Protestant or Catholic, at that time, it would have been a rough sell, and it picked up a stigma. Let’s skip ahead…

It’s 1960 baby, and yoga found a niche w/the fringe. This association, through the 60’s and 70’s, did not help bring help bring yoga into mainstream. It remained an outlier, changed and maturing, but not accepted. It was a misunderstood adolescent struggling to find itself in the West, much like the West of the time.

Today yoga is still not consistently defined due to these residual connotations and its own growth. We can accurately say yoga is a physical activity that requires an elevated level of concentration ,intentionally prompting a unique level of consciousness. We can also say that these things are good for you. It requires discipline and focus to practice yoga. We can say, focus and discipline, are needed for success and yoga can help you practice these things.

I think there is still some confusion to what level yoga is linked to spirituality or religion, and just like spirituality or religion, that level is dependent on the practitioner.

Yoga’s diversity lends to all levels of physical aptitude and subsequent health benefits. The different practices will also require various levels of concentration. Like all things, the benefit from yoga is a direct result of energy imputed, and if the yogi chooses to praise the Lord in this fashion, I say Glory be.

 

Edgar~

Taking the baja down the Baja

Leigh, Surfing, Travel, Yoga

To really tell this story, I must first tell you how the Green Meanie came to be.  Edgar and I had been to Sayulita quite a few times, and each time paid a pretty steep amount to rent a car.  You pay for the rental, but also for the Mexican insurance (check out VdM), since your insurance in the states is not accepted there.  This addition doubles the cost of the rental.  We talked about how it would be nice to have an older car there just to run around to restaurants, surf breaks and the airport… maybe something like a VW bug.

The idea sounded good, and it quickly moved from mere conversation to an internet search, and to a specific seller who appeared to have just the thing posted on Craig’s List.  It was green, mean, a little beat up and a lot loud.  It was a baja bug.  Our new friend had been working on it with his grandfather, and had even taken a trip to Mexico in it already.  It fit our needs and the price was right, so we made the deal.  The seller even towed it to my house, since my stick shift driving now is weak at best, and at that time, was non-existent.

I kept the bug at my place for a while, and taught myself to drive it on weekends.  I practiced taking it to the gas station, waving folks around me as I stalled at lights.  Edgar came to visit and we added gas and water cans, a high-lift jack, shovel, pick ax and all-terrain tires.  We ordered a few spare parts, and then a couple more, and stocked up on zip ties and black tape.  A stall mat made for a handy back seat cover, and I got my first drilling experience putting in some second-hand head rests.  We threw in some floor mats, ammo boxes for the glove compartments, and made sure we had a gallon of oil at the ready.

The Green Meanie was ready to go home.

Day One:

We left Sacramento with a back seat filled with tools and backpacks, and a roof rack topped off with surf boards.   I thought people might give us a second glance, but we were surprised to see how much people were really digging it.  We saw lots of thumbs up and plenty of cell phones out for photos as we rumbled down the highway.

Our first stop was Santa Cruz and the Ripcurl store.  Edgar wanted to pick up a wet suit for the cold pacific water, and I found a shorty that would be perfect a little farther south.  Our rig was drawing attention in the parking lot, so we figured we’d let people know where they could read more about our travels, and borrowed a sharpie from the shop.  We wrote our web address on masking tape and slapped it to the back windows on both sides.   Cheap, but effective.   (We actually have TSY stickers, but I neglected to bring them along, so the tape had to do.)

Marketing at its finest

We stopped every couple of hours for gas and to check the oil.  The gas gauge was sort of a guide, but not an exact one.  If it got to half, that was more like empty.  Did I mention we had a big gas can on the side?  We were prepared for long stretches without a gas station, and for pretty much daily guesses at how much we had left in the tank.   For a trip like this, the proper mindset is key.   Even though we had a mechanic go through it before we hit the road, (thanks FIDS of West Sac!) we understood there might be challenges, and we were ready to roll with them.

The first evening was a chilly one, and we threw on a few extra layers as we cruised into Ventura.  We knocked out about 400 miles for our first day, and we were pretty pleased.  We had hoped to find a restaurant open, but Saturday night was surprisingly sleepy, and we ended up ordering pizza in.

Day two began with a shocking theft, and moved on to a strange encounter with a surfer who sold coffee out of a VW bus.  Stay tuned….

Balance and Strength

Yoga

Note: Irene is a good friend who has an incredible yoga practice.  Her transitions are so smooth and her strength so solid, we had to ask her to be featured on our site.  Luckily, she agreed.  Here’s a snippet of a recent practice in a park, and a quote from Irene. 

Irene has been practicing yoga for nine years, and recently completed 200 hour RYT training.

“I believe yoga is a form of expression.  I learn something new about myself every time I practice.”

Making Shapes

Leigh, Yoga

If you’re a yogi, have yogis in your life, or even just follow some on social media, you’ve probably seen them get into postures in the strangest places.  They might even use a hashtag like #yogaeverywhere or #yogaoutside and to a non-yogi it might seem a little narcissistic… or just silly.  I’m sure, depending on the yogi, it can be both, but I think it’s sometimes something else.

I was at a park today and it was filled with interesting architecture and sculptures and I must admit, I thought, “This would be a great place to do yoga!”  I saw all these lines and shapes and I was thinking about which poses would go with them, or contrast with them in a visually interesting way.  Yoga is one of the ways I try to free up my creative side, and sometimes a doorway or a statue (or an ice castle!) just looks like the perfect place to practice.  I guess it’s like wanting to paint there, or sing there, or write….

So the next time you see an interesting space, and you get the urge to launch into a handstand or ease into wheel, go for it.  And if you take a picture, share it with us.  We’ll understand.