Cactus, Rocks & Petrol
Trip Start
Aug 28, 2009
1
12
22
Trip End
Sep 20, 2009
La Ventana, Baja California Sur, Mexico
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Poyser took the cockpit, stepped resolutely on the throttle and the Jeep responded, roaring off down the road, but bouncing uncomfortably on the smooth tarmac as it railed against the far too even surface, not happy at all. It was looking for something much more meaty. As were we. We quickly left La Paz behind and began to pass newly built resorts. Following the sea the road passed by the port of Pichilingue (which we were going to come to intimate terms with in the next few days) and further on a couple of gorgeous turquoise coves which looked so inviting we almost forgot the mission and dove straight in. But we had no time for this borgeois nonsense, the Jeep was growling away behind us, ravenous and chomping at the bit! Maintain focus!
Soon enough the road ran out completely and we came to a small restaurant and some surf shacks that indicated we had arrived at the outpost of El Tecolote, where Walter had told us to get some up to date gen on the condition of the coastline further south, in light of the recent hurricane. Unfortunately Walter’s friend was proving elusive, especially as we couldn’t ask for him in any intelligible way, so we forged ahead with the only tools we needed: a litre of water, the fearless Wrangler and a pair of massive cojones.
The Jeep lurched forward eagerly onto the rocky terrain, becoming immediately more comfortable to handle as it settled into a much more familiar and pleasing rhythm. The IPOD was switched to off-road mode, currently playing Basement Jaxx in order to amp up the occupants. Very quickly we arrived in the full on wilderness, the elements around us reduced to sea, sand, bushes and cartoon cactus of monolithic proportions. Every so often we would glimpse a couple of vultures circling high overhead or maybe one perched on top of a cactus surveying the landscape. Not much more obvious wildlife to speak of in this beautiful but inhospitable environment.
The rugged terrain varied from 45 degree rocky inclines to boulder strewn ravines to deep sandy tracks and we just bounced and skidded through the awesome countryside finding our way as we went, but generally trying to keep within eyeshot of the sea on our left, so we knew we were heading in a roughly southerly direction. We dropped right down onto the beach a number of times and just drove right next to the light blue sea, not a soul in sight. Brilliant stuff.
As we penetrated deeper into the desert and the track became fainter until we were driving across the untouched tundra through fields of cactus, Kerry started to take pensive glances at our measly litre of tepid water and have premonitions of us breaking down, passing out from dehydration and having our bones picked clean by the vultures. This level of fear became understandable as I gunned the Wrangler to the top of a ridiculously steep rise that had been heavily eroded into a divetted concertina shape by the recent flooding. The Jeep had by now become gorged on about as much off road action as it could handle for one day and balked at this challenge, but to stop now would have been to retreat, defeated, so I stamped down even harder on the accelerator and amid smells of burning from the engine we made the crest, clocked the horizon, saw only mountains in the distance and then started seriously wondering where the hell we were.
The Jeep smelled like it was about to explode but we knew we had to go on. In the absence of any Ray Mears skills and a dearth of common sense we judged purely on instinct which way the sea was and eased our way off the precarious shelf of rock, steadily powering the Wrangler on across the divetted landscape. At length we came to a bunch of six foot boulders which even the Jeep could not traverse so regretfully we turned around and headed inland in the hope of finding a proper track. I must confess that by this point in the adventure I too was keen to see some sign of previous human habitation.
In our eyes the desert had now turned from ruggedly beautiful to featureless and sinister. After bumping and meandering for an hour around we found a rough track which gradually turned into a more well beaten one and we knew we probably weren’t going to die. However that certainty quickly crumbled when we caught a glimpse of an upcoming, ostensibly deserted beach where Kerry spotted a group of guys all dressed in black that looked for all the world like terrorists.
At this stage there probably wasn’t a huge gap between how isolated we felt and how isolated we were. We had now driven for four hours into the middle of nowhere, poorly equipped, the co-pilot shrieking with fear and clutching at her throat in the midst of a mild panic attack, "Why have you brought us out here you ridiculous twat!!?!!". As far as she was concerned the only people we had seen in this desert in four hours were about to let rip on the Jeep with sub machine guns, and all the time the sun was beating down on the Jeep, threatening to riddle our minds with tropical madness. We drove as quietly as possible past the gun toting suicide bombers who had now retreated to an unknown location (to watch us), and continued through ever higher cactus (i’m talking 20 foot) on a fairly even gravel track.
Just then, a pick up truck with three uniformed occupants, one woman and two men came up behind us. After nearly soiling ourselves with fear we broke out the map and began pointing at it like pituary retards. Luckily they spoke enough English to understand that we were heading towards La Ventana. They chaperoned us out of the bush, back onto a fully sealed road and set us in the right direction. Real friendly like.
Phew! We were out of the (perceived) shit. I was a bit miffed that the off-road mission seemed to be over for now as I was secretly hoping to go right to San Jose del Cabo, at the southern tip of Baja, but this was quite patently the misguided idea of a complete nutter and to be fair I was pretty much sated with the action so far.
The rest of the day was tame in comparison as we were on sealed roads, but still good fun, dodging the pot holes and sand drifts left over from the recent hurricane. We headed steadily south, driving through the few coastal villages that have spung up to service the surfing and diving crowds. All pretty basic and backed as ever by the stark, bare, sand coloured mountains.
By 4pm we were barrelling along a dirt track towards Cabo Pulmo, where lies the only coral reef on the peninsular. It was such a relief to escape from the heat, strip off our dirt ridden clothes, jump in the sea with mask and flippers on, swim out a few metres and take a butchers at the sea life. Not so much variety in terms of coral, but a fair amount of colourful fish.
We had a meal at a nearby restaurant and drove back to La Paz on dirt tracks in the dark, feeling beat after the days off road action.
