baja – Travel・Surf・Yoga

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Nine

June 16, 2018 Leigh Leigh, Surfing, Travel, Yoga

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

The most surprising aspect of the ferry ride was the timing. We had given ourselves plenty of wiggle room, because we didn’t know if it would leave or arrive on time. It did both. We cruised into Mazatlan right before 9am, and everyone lined up in an orderly fashion to disembark. I joined the exit line, rushed back to return the borrowed movies and remote control, then joined the line again while Edgar went down below to fire up the bug.

I walked off the ramp and met Edgar in the parking lot, where he was holding our exhaust pipe. He’d lightly tapped a truck during the unloading process, and it was enough to cause the pipe to break off. Once again our jar of bungees came in handy, and we headed off toward Sayulita with the pipe carefully fixed to the roof rack, while keeping a careful eye out for a welding shop.

At lunch time we found a nice little place right on the water just south of San Blas, selling shrimp and cheese empanadas and the now standard coca lites. While we wrapped up the meal, we asked around about a nearby break called Stoners. No one at the restaurant knew what we were talking about, so we went off-roading again. We found some pretty beaches, but no swell.

We’d spent enough time in Nayarit to know where the swell is located there, so we got back on the pavement and headed in that direction. In La Cruz we spotted what looked like a welding shop, and quickly turned in. We used our spanish and a lot of demonstrative movements to explain the problem, and one of the workers said the magic words, “no problem”. He brought out the torch, and waved off Edgar’s suggestion of a helmet. A few moments and pesos later, the pipe was once again married to the bug.

We were close to home, but had enough light to check out one of the local breaks, so we took a quick peek. Burrows wasn’t too exciting, but the pizza joint nearby had a live band. They sounded good and so did a slice of pizza, so we settled in to enjoy both.

After dinner, it was time to go home. Casa Aves has the perfect spot for the bug right out front. We spent time unloading boards and supplies, and giving the green meanie a little dust-off as a welcome home.

The next day, we grabbed a ride to the airport, and a much faster trip home.

Miles traveled on day 9: 245

The story doesn’t end here; it’s just the closing of this chapter. Thanks to everyone for following along and enjoying the recaps with us. It was a great adventure and we enjoyed sharing it with you. We’d love to hear your feedback and/or questions. What surprised you about the journey? Is there anything we didn’t cover that you really want to know? Have you, or would you want to, make a similar trek? Would you have joined Fibber McGee for dinner, or adopted a Mexican street puppy? Share in the comments and let’s keep the conversation going.

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Six

May 26, 2018 Leigh 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.

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

May 6, 2018 Leigh 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….

Taking the baja down the Baja: Day Two

April 29, 2018 Leigh Leigh, Surfing, Travel

Note: This is day two of our adventures driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, California to Sayulita, Mexico. If you missed day one, you can read that recap here.

We woke up to find a thief had been at the bug and gone again, and the only thing he or she wanted was the “travelsurfyoga.com” tape on our window. Sometimes even a cheap marketing ploy gets recognized for its value. With a shake of our heads we piled back into the bug and set our sights on Sunset Cliffs, the birthplace of the fish surfboard.

Sunset Cliffs is beautiful. Pictures don’t do it justice, but I’ll give it my best attempt. Something about the clear blue water juxtaposed with the rocks and sky… I couldn’t stop saying how lovely it all was.

As we drove through town, we spotted two gentlemen and a golden retriever lounging outside a surf shop. The guys smiled at our rig, and we swung into a parking spot. Mark and his friend shook our hands and we checked out their boards for sale. They told us about the nearby surf spot, not working that day unfortunately, and we chatted about a couple of places we planned to see on our way down the coast. Mark told us about Richard, a local surfer and VW enthusiast, who was selling coffee out of a bus down by the water. “It’s a blue VW bus, and he’s a surfer guy with long blonde hair. Stop by and see him,” they encouraged us several times. We promised we would and took our leave.

Sure enough, we stumbled upon Richard and his buses down by the shore. He gave us a nod and his permission to park the bug next to his green VW bus for sale. (It’s priced at 30k, in case you have the interest and a little pocket change.) We ordered coffees and stretched our legs, and after a little chat decided to get back on the road.

Except, the bug wasn’t ready to move. We pressed the button, and it wouldn’t start. Hmmm. Tried again. Richard had ideas and so did his buddy, and we all got out to talk them through. The buddy grabbed a can of starting fluid and gave it a go. Still nothing. After a little more tinkering, we discovered a loose wire in the ignition system. Richard’s friend grabbed a crimping tool and viola! It worked. While it was running, we threw out one more question. The first day the bug stayed in gear just fine, but on day two it was wanting to jump out of fourth, especially when pulling uphill. Richard said it sounded like we needed to check the transmission fluid, and we drove off with that mission in mind, and directions to the nearest Auto Zone.

We pulled into a side lot to add the fluid, check the oil and tighten whatever we could access and turn, even just a smidge. When we went to fill the bug with transmission fluid, the fill port was only hand tight, so the fluid suggestion turned out to be a good one. It didn’t cure the popping out of gear part, but the bug drank a bottle of the stuff and we certainly wouldn’t want to run it dry.

Back on the road, we decided we should adjust our original plan, and cross the border the next morning. Our mechanic stop was well worth it, but it did cost us some daylight, and night time is not the best time to get into Mexico and get paperwork sorted. We pinpointed the best place to stay just this side of the border, in a town called Chula Vista. The El Primo Hotel had a confident name and a friendly manager/owner, who professed to be 79 years old “plus tax”.

I didn’t catch his name, but he was willing to share about his journey from the Philippines to the states when he was just 19 years old. He joined the navy right away, and volunteered for submarine duty. He told us he could see the sides of the hallways down below, begin to curve under the pressure at 3200 feet. We could have swapped stories with him all evening, but we were hungry and not the only guests, so we said good night and walked down the street to an Italian restaurant, with 200 more miles under our belts.

On Day Three we required the services of Smack it with a Hammer Mechanics, and found out beach hotels that appear abandoned sometimes offer the best accommodations. Stay tuned…

Taking the baja down the Baja

April 21, 2018 Leigh 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.)

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.