The Yin and Yang of Luck

It has been a while since I last posted, primarily because we've had some pretty sketchy internet service for the past week.  And with the big holiday, we also figured most folks had more important things to do than read our blog....

Our campsite at Rancho Verde.

We certainly experienced the yin and yang of luck last weekend with our wheel bearing mishap.  It was unlucky that we broke down, but it was lucky that we realized the problem soon enough that things didn't turn out far worse for us (it was also lucky that we didn't break down 30 miles from the nearest town, which could have happened).  It was unlucky that we chose to break down in front of a paranoid property owner, but it was lucky that the Pemex was only a half kilometer away.  It was unlucky that we couldn't get a tow because of the holiday, but it was lucky because that probably saved us a lot of money, as compared to what it had cost to have the repair made in the Pemex station parking lot.  It was unlucky that the guy in Glendale over tightened our bearings, but it is lucky that I now know how to tell when they are properly adjusted (and will hopefully never have a repeat of this experience).

Camping at the Pemex was an interesting experience.  In the evening a semi arrived and parked for the night near us.  The first thing the driver did was to get a couple of packages out of the back.  Not long after, someone came to pick the items up and some cash was exchanged.  We didn't know what to make of that.  In the morning, another truck arrived.  A smaller truck with three men showed up later and waited for quite some time.  There were a couple of other vehicles that stopped by, each picking up an item or two.  Then the smaller truck went to work, loading up some furniture, then driving away, returning a short time later for another load.  They did this three or four times.  Then we figured it out - the big semis are too big to deliver in a small town, so the pickups are prearranged.  Pemexes just happen to be convenient transfer points.

After our weekend misadventure, the first thing I did after reaching La Paz last week was to e-mail Camp Inn for the link to a video showing the proper steps for replacing and repacking wheel bearings.  Then I made a trip to Autozone to get a replacement dust cap, some spare cotter pins and a lug wrench that would fit the lugs on the camper.  I also double checked the Camp-Inn owners manual for their description of what a properly tightened hub assembly should feel like when pulling the wheel perpendicular to its plane of rotation (it should have about 1/16" of play).

With that knowledge in hand, I removed the dust caps on both wheels, loosened the splined nuts roughly two castellations past where there had been no side-to-side play in the wheel.  That allowed me to sense when there was some play and when there was too much play.  I then tightening the splined nut by one castellation, which gave me my best approximation of achieving 1/16" of play.

It is a good thing that I thought to have Antonio duct tape the dust cap to the hub, as the gray goo that he applied in an attempt to keep it in place did absolutely nothing at all.  And when I inspected his work, I found he had over packed the end of the spindle with grease AND had failed to secure the cotter pin in place.  If that dust cap had come off, the cotter pin would have been next to go, possibly allowing the splined nut to loosen and come off.  That could have sent the trailer wheel flying off the end of the spindle, possibly causing collateral personal injury and/or property damage, and making it very difficult to maintain control of the van and camper.  From this point forward, whenever I have the hubs serviced, I plan to double check the work once I am at home or at a campground.  It only takes a few minutes per wheel, and it is well worth the peace of mind.

Having, after about two weeks of travel in Mexico, reached (more or less) our farthest point south on this trip, for the next five weeks or so we will be endeavoring to kill some time on our way north.  So we will be staying multiple nights at most of the campgrounds that we visit, and we are a bit more likely to stay at campgrounds without wi-fi access (assuming we can get things moving towards a resolution with the IRS).  As a result, we'll be posting to the blog less frequently.

Our favorite tope (speed bump) sign - surfboards flying off the car rack!

Our plan when we left La Paz was to camp at La Ventana, a site very popular with kite surfers.  The landscape that we saw differed dramatically from what was described in our guide book, which was published just four years ago.  I suspect the shiny new desalinization plant at the edge of town may have been the trigger that started the explosion of growth there.  None of the campgrounds we were looking for were still extant, and the two new campgrounds were stuffed to the gills with campers. 

Kite surfers at La Ventana.

So went about 60 km farther down the road and stopped at Rancho Verde RV Park (~150$, water, hot showers and wi-fi [no power]), which is about 20 miles west of Los Barriles.  We ending up staying here a full week after learning that the remaining campground in Los Barriles, is currently charging $35-$45 per night!  We stayed here for less than $45 per week.

This is one of the nicer campgrounds that we've stayed at in Mexico.  It has large camping pads that are widely spaced, and they provide a few amenities at some campsites - fire rings and tables.  On the other hand, the wi-fi is pretty sketchy here, and the one bathroom/shower is located a ways away from the campsites.  But it is quiet here, about 10 degrees cooler than the coast and not nearly as windy.  The campground dogs leave Lana alone, which is yet another bonus.  And even better still, the spring fed water here is as good as the purified water we buy in town, so when we leave we will top off our holding tank, Igloo cooler and our 5 gallon jug (that only saves us a buck or two, but it also means that we won't have to hunt down a water purification plant anytime soon).

We've used the campground as our base for exploring the area.  We've been to Santiago to see the Tropic of Cancer display, taken a trip to Cabo Pulmo, done a few training rides on a road north of Los Barriles, drove up into the Sierra De La Laguna and done lots of shopping in Los Barriles (for pleasure and for necessities).

Near Cabo Pulmo.

Our last day here we drove west to El Triunfo to visit Caffe El Triunfo.  We heard about this place (which is supposedly owned by a former Hells Angel) from the Baja Amigos.  The food is awesome and fortunately we were warned that the portions were huge.  Alea and I split three Ahi tacos and it was more than enough lunch for us.  The prices seem a bit high for Baja, but you are getting a lot more for your money, and the ambience was a step above the average restaurants down here.  The food was all the more impressive considering that we got there just after 40 Audi SUVs showed up.  That meant 80+ people who were part of a big press entourage landed there before us.  They were being wined and dined, in the hope of their writing nice things about this particular car (which is now being built somewhere in Mexico).

Various views from our training route north of Los Barriles.

On our way back to La Paz, we drove out to Baia de Las Suenas (Bay of Dreams), where we  had lunch at Restaurant 1535.  It is a beachside restaurant with a huge palapa-sheltered dining area.  A very filling lunch there was less than $30 US, including drinks.

The view of Baia de Las Suenas, as seen from Restaurant 1535.

Dias 13 & 14: Our First Misadventure

Yesterday (Dia 13, Sunday) we had our first real misadventure of our travels, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

On our way out of town we stopped at a water purification plant, being somewhat surprised that we could find one open on a Sunday. But it was, and we were even more surprised to find that 5 gallons of water costs 12 pesos, or about 60 cents - the same price as 1 liter of bottled water.  So it won’t take us long to recoup the cost of our 5 gallon jug.

We ventured south today, planning to stay in El Pescadero.  But the campground we were looking for had closed down.  We had also hoped that there would be a sign somewhere along Mex 16 that showed that we had crossed the Tropic of Cancer.  Despite driving in both directions on both the main road into town and the bypass, we had no such luck.  This invisible line is located near Todos Santos, a little town known for its arts and crafts vibe.  So at some point yesterday we entered the Tropics, but exactly where will forever remain a minor mystery to us.

There was a another campground located in Todos Santos, so we went there, only to be greeted by a pack of dogs (most likely the owner’s).  It was pretty dusty and funky, and we figured that Lana would be freaked out by the dogs, so we quickly turned around, then went and gassed up while we pondered our options.

Having already struck out on three counts, we made the decision to reroute and go to Los Barriles on the east coast to camp for the evening.  But since we were in town, we took the opportunity to see the Mission of Todos Santos, the Hotel California (the one made famous by The Eagles) and to browse the arts and crafts shops.

Hotel California.

Mission Todos Santos.

On the way south, we had seen a large number of Mexican cyclists strung out along the highway, and had wondered if there was some big event in progress.  It turns out that we were seeing the stragglers of a Gran Fondo that ended in the square across from the Todos Santos Mission.  There was a big banner strung up on one corner, bicycles where piled into or on about half the vehicles in town and there was an awards ceremony in progress around noon.  Everyone packed up and left for home shortly thereafter.

Meanwhile, Alea had gone shopping (I dropped her off while I found a place to park), and anytime she would show any interest in something, a man would move in close to her and start the high pressure sales pitch.  The marked prices were fairly absurd, so everything had to be bargained, and even after an extended round of bargaining they weren’t coming close to anything that she was willing to pay.  After a few of those experiences she was ready to bug out of town, so we did.

About 4 kilometers out of town I happened to look out my side view mirror and saw the camper’s driver’s side hub cab veering across the opposing travel lane and into the sandy shoulder.  I pulled over as quick as I could, and went back to look for the hubcap.  En route, I also looked at the wheel that it had come from, seeing that the bearing had disintegrated and was looking pretty gnarly.

The damaged bearing.

What the bearing should look like (minus the dust cap).

I didn’t have much luck finding a large shiny thing in the midst of all the sand, trash and weeds, but I did manage to find the dust cap from the hub, sitting at the edge of the road. When the bearing gave out, the dust cap shot off the hub, forcing the hub cap off the wheel. So it is very likely that if I had found the hub cap it probably wasn’t in all that great of shape: between it rolling across the pavement for some distance, and that dust cap hitting hard enough to send it flying from the wheel, it was probably pretty lumpy and scratched up.  Besides, every time we have the camper in to have the wheels or hubs worked on, the mechanics almost invariably put one or more dents in the baby moons.  We figure it is their form of saying “Kilroy was here.”

Our stranding point...

Knowing the camper was in no shape to go any farther, we quickly searched for some options. I had thought of removing the wheel to get a better look at the hub, but the van’s lug wrench didn’t have a deep enough socket for the camper’s lugs, and I couldn’t find a specific lug wrench for the camper, though I suspect we had one at some point (and perhaps we still do and hadn’t dug deep enough to find it). We thought about leaving the camper and going into town to find a mechanic, but first checked to see if our Mexican auto insurance included travel assistance (I seemed to recall that it did). I figured they could get us towed to a local mechanic, and we’d have to wait until they had time to make the repair. It turned out that travel assistance was part of the package that we purchased, so we gave them a call. A very helpful young man named Cesar was trying to figure out if we wanted the camper towed to La Paz or Cabo San Lucas, while we were thinking someone local could likely handle the job.  After more than an hour of phone tag, we finally decided to let them tow us back to Campestre Maranatha in La Paz, where we had stayed on Saturday.  Otherwise, we figured we would be paying for a hotel and meals out until we could get back in our camper. With all that settled, we waited even longer for an estimate on the tow truck’s ETA.

While were were waiting, a man and his wife drove up in a red Volkswagen and wanted to talk to us about our camper (we later found out his name was Hector). The language barrier prevented us from answering their questions, but we told them it had a cama (bed) and cocina (kitchen), and opened it up for them to have a look (they were impressed). We also pointed out that we had a ‘problema’ by pointing at the mangled bearing race. There was a protracted conversation where they tried to help, by my 500 words of Spanish was no match for their far greater vocabulary. They finally called their daughter to act as translator, and she offered us some advice on how to proceed. We told her that we had contacted the insurance company, that we appreciated their help, but the tow truck should be here shortly.  So instead they offered us a beer (no, gracias, but Hector had one) before they headed off down the road.

When the insurance guy finally called back, it was more bad news. It was Sunday on a holiday weekend (Monday is a national holiday, Revolution Day), and nobody wanted to tow our whimpy little camper.  We suspect if we had a big diesel pusher that the folks that tow the commercial semis would have been licking their chops at the prospect of a big payday.  But putting a family fiesta on hold for what little they would get for towing us had no appeal to them.

So we were stuck. Bear in mind that we had been parked in front of someone’s business (it was closed at the time) and residence on the poor side of town for a few hours now.  We recently had a few locals give us menacing looks as they drove by, suggesting that we were wearing out our welcome in their barrio.  And while I was on the phone with the insurance guy, the owner came out and was peering at me from around a corner, but he left before I could get out and talk to him.  But I did see that he had his rifle with him, and he was making sure that I couldn’t miss noticing that fact.

We were already unhitched, so we decided to drive a half kilometer down the road to the Pemex station, where I was fortunate to find the manager in his office. He was acting like he would rather not talk to me, but I asked “Hable Ingles?” He shook his head. I mustered what Spanish I could and said, “Tengo una problema con my caravanita” (I have a problem with my camper), and then showed him a picture of the blown bearing and proceeded in pantomime to ask if we could park the camper at the station for the next two nights. He said yes! And he instructed a worker to show us where we should park. The worker took us to the southwest corner of the lot, pointing out that we would have some shade from the sun, that we could use the palapa nearby and there was “agua limpio” (clean water) at a nearby faucet. The station is open 24 hours, so we had access to the bathrooms, but this is one time we wouldn’t have minded using our Luggable Loo. 

Finally, our luck had changed! We had a place to camp for free for two nights with access to a restroom and a convenience store, and we would be parked in a well lit, walled compound. Provided the camper could limp that far...

So we returned to hitch up the camper, and just as we got there two men in an old Mustang pull up.  We exchange niceties and one of them tells me his name is Antonio.  He pulls out his cell phone and takes a picture of our hub and then calls someone.  I tell him we are going to the Pemex.  He says he is a mechanic and he can help us in the morning.  He leaves his number, and we finish hitching up.

We towed the camper down the road at about 3 miles per hour, nervously watching the occasional death rattle coming from the wobbly rear wheel.  Would it fall off before we get there?  Once there was a wide enough shoulder, I stopped and gave the wheel a good tug, and it seemed unlikely that it would, at any moment, depart us like the dust cap and hub cab had done. So we ventured on. Just as we came to the edge of the Pemex property, two sedans pulled off onto the shoulder in a hurry behind us with their flashers on, slowing down abruptly behind us and riding inches from our bumper.  They sat back there a moment, then honked, passed as close to us as possible and then pulled into the Pemex to get gassed up.  It would seem they were also out to reinforce the message that we weren’t welcome in the barrio.

Pemex 8887, during the day and in the evening...

As we pulled into the Pemex these guys were standing with their backs to us while talking to the attendants.  I looked over, but I suspect the attendants could tell I was more concerned with our wobbly wheel than the intimidation we had just experienced.  My theory is that they had hoped that I’d flip them off or yell something at them, so that they would have an excuse to escalate the situation into a test of machismo. It took them quite a while to get gassed up, but finally they left.

We are hoping that someone explained to them what had happened, so that they could tell the folks in the barrio that we only stopped there because we had no other real choice.

So we ended up at Pemex 8887 for the night, listening to the drone of the generators and the occasional jake brake, and keeping an eye on the stray dogs that roam the area.

When we were up north and had run into Helmut in his green VW camper van, he had mentioned that he camped quite a bit at Pemex stations, and at the time we thought that sort of odd. But it is no different that boondocking at a Walmart in the US, other than there don’t seem to be any gringos down here that want to join us for the evening.

We tried calling Antonio at 8 am, as had been prearranged the day before. We called once, with no answer. We sent a text message, with no reply. When we called again, the phone was answered, but not by Antonio. The language barrier meant the conversation went nowhere, so I said 'gracias y adios' and hung up.

We figured it was time to go into town and look for a mechanico. But first I talked with some of the gas station attendants to see if they could tell me how to say wheel, hub and bearing in Spanish, thinking I would need some means of communicating my dilemma if we were successful in finding such a person.

We drove into town, politely waving at the man with the rifle as we drove by.  Just as we got to the center of town, there was Antonio in his Mustang, flashing his headlights behind me.  We pulled over and agreed to meet at the Pemex.  We lost sight of him, but then he drives fast, so that was no surprise.

We got back to the Pemex station, but no Antonio. We thought to ourselves, he must have gone to the other Pemex, and he’ll figure out that the camper isn’t there and then he’ll come here.  We waited. Still no Antonio.  So I decided to drive to the other Pemex to look for him.  When I was almost there, I saw him driving toward me.  I waved and turned around.  He had stopped to pick up Adrian, who I suspect was a cousin.

They jacked the camper up, took the wheel off and had a look at things. I didn’t like the fact that part of the hub had cracked, with a small chunk apparently holding on only by sheer willpower.  But he loaded up all the bits and pieces and said we needed to go to the auto parts store.

Antonio and Adrian, hard at work at repairing our camper.

On the way he called someone who spoke English.  He had him tell me he would charge $100 for his labor, plus parts.  No problema.  We got to the auto parts store, and that was cheap enough - $12 for some bearings and grease.  With those in hand, we returned to the Pemex and Antonio and Adrian set to work.

The remains of the damaged bearing, and the chipped hub.

They had been at it for a while when they came over with the spindle in hand, gesturing that they needed to get someone to heat up the bearing race in order to get it off the spindle.  They returned a half hour later, with everything reassembled.  It wasn’t long before everything was back together, but the dust cap had seen better days.  It didn’t fit snuggly, as it is supposed to.  Antonio put some sort of gray adhesive goo on it, which looked like perhaps some gasket sealer.  I dug into the drawer pedestal in the van and handed him a roll of duct tape. He agreed that was a good idea, especially since we no longer had our baby moon hubcap for that side.

So it was time to settle up. I asked if he preferred pesos or dollars, and either worked for him. So I asked him, “Dos mil pesos?” He replied by typing 2,500 into his phone’s calculator app, explaining that he also had to pay for the help to get the bearing race off. That seemed excessive, but I was feeling charitable since we were soon to be back on our way. I asked whether that included Adrian’s help, and he quickly added another 500 pesos to the total. At this point I gave him a look like “you’re pushing your luck here,” but Adrian was pretty excited by that news. Besides they were working on a holiday and we didn’t have the expense of getting towed somewhere, so it wasn’t the most expensive possible outcome from our predicament.

I had called the Camp Inn factory just prior to having everything wrapped up, mainly to make sure someone is there, just in case we needed some parts to be shipped to us. I told Cary (one of the owners) that it was indeed the bearing that was causing the squeak, not the torsion bar. He said there had been a rash of such failures, and the cause was overtightening the bearings. He said there was a video on etrailer.com that explains the process.  The critical part is how the splined nut on the spindle is backed off once the bearing and bearing race are fully seated.  So I’ll review that video, then take off the dust caps and make certain that both sides are properly tightened.  With that reassurance, we can continue roaming around the countryside.

Before leaving the Pemex station we drove circles around the parking lot at low speed, listening for any sign of a problem in either hub.  It seemed to pass inspection, so we returned to La Paz and Campestre Maranatha.  We recounted our experience to the American owner, and she said the guy with the rifle had probably moved here from one of the more troubled states in Mexico.  She asserted that the natives of BCS would have been more likely to have offered us some agua fria or some coffee.

Dia 12: La Paz, BCS, Mexico

Another travel day of around 125 miles, a significant amount of it through very dusty and bumpy construction zones.  We don't relish the thought of returning along this stretch of road on our way north, but it is the only option.

A coconut palm.

We are in La Paz, which is about 100 miles north of Cabo San Lucas (which is at the tip of the Baja Peninsula).  Aside from breaking up the driving to destinations farther south, La Paz offers us our best shopping opportunities since Ensenada.  Though it isn't that we need a lot of stuff, we will just have more and better choices.

The temperatures were getting up around the 90s on the western side of the peninsula, but it is windier and cloudier here in La Paz.  The temperatures are in the low 80s at mid afternoon, which almost feels chilly with the brisk wind.  We can only imagine the shock that we will experience when we return to Boise in January.

We are camped at Campestre Marantha (400$, power, water, hot showers, wi-fi), the last remaining RV park in La Paz (most of the others having been redeveloped with more profitable uses).  The park is a nice enough place, though it is mainly set up for big rigs, which are lined up diagonally along the west wall of the compound.  There are only two bathroom stalls here (both have showers), and they are located in the back corner, so we are stuck between some big rigs in order to have reasonable proximity to the facilities.  A large portion of the park is currently off limits, there being some sort of youth retreat in progress.

Just like your favorite KOA in the states.

Normally, we would be dining out fairly often, but we don't get near enough exercise right now for us to risk the typically rice-beans-tortillas gut bombs.  Most of our evening meals start with a combination of carrots, onion and celery (the "holy trinity" of cooking in France), and we sometimes add potato and/or green pepper (the latter doesn't travel quite as well as the other four).  (We generally vary the amounts based upon what items we have on hand that need to be used up.)  If we have fresh meat, we start by browning that, then saute the vegetables with the fat.  Or we can add pre-cooked meat while we are doing the sauteing.  Then there are several options for completing the meal:

• We can scamble in some eggs, and once they are close to being cooked, add some grated cheese and perhaps some sliced olives.
• We can add a simmer sauce: mole (with chicken), chipotle (usually with meat), abodabo or other Mexican sauces; a spaghetti sauce (often with olives); a creamy pasta sauce; East Indian curry sauces (when we can find them); or any number of Thai, Japanese or other sauces (also when available).
• We can add a creamed soup, usually celery or mushroom.
• Or we can leave it plain, and just add some Greek seasoning or feta cheese to give it some flavor.

We find this gives us a lot of variety, though some meals turn out better than others.  And if we've over indulged in eating bread or deserts, after a meal or two like these (provided we don't use too much potato) we can feel that the fat has come off of our waistlines.  The "Holy Trinity" is also great for normalizing your blood pressure.

The squeak that we noticed coming from our camper's driver's side wheel returned, so we e-mailed Camp Inn for their thoughts on what is going on, wanting to know if it is something that we need to deal with right away.  They are thinking that it isn't the hub that is causing the noise, but the torsion bar suspension.  It needs some lubrication and sealing, but it is something that we don't need to address until we return to Boise.  It sounds like what is entailed is a bit beyond my skill level, so we'll take it to the folks who in the past have done our trailer wiring and other maintenance for us.

Dia 11: Ciudad Constitucion, BCS, Mexico

Saturday (Dia 11) was just a travel day, roughly splitting the distance between Loreto and La Paz.  

Bahia de Loreto, with Isla Carmen on the left and Isla Montserrat on the right.

Since we first arrived on the Sea of Cortez, we've been roughly paralleling the Sierra La Giganta, a rocky chain of mountains with some peaks as high as 9,000 feet, and with few ways across them.  A short distance south of Loreto, Mex 1 crosses the Sierra and the landscape once again looks like it did between Santo Tomas and El Rosario: a large coastal plain of desert, interspersed with irrigated farm land.  Sometimes large areas of farm fields are covered with khaki colored shade cloth, which is likely needed to protect sensitive plants from too much sun.

We stopped for the night at Campestre La Pila (150$, power).  Fortunately, we didn't notice the RV hookups as we drove in, or we probably would have turned around and headed for the next nearest campground.  That area consists of five pods of two to four sets of power and water hookups, and the western half of the lot is being used to store old semi trailers.  At each pod there is basically a bush or two and a palm tree.  It is probably the least appealing RV park we've seen just about anywhere.  But we were allowed to camp by the pavillion, next to a grassy field and close to the largest of two pools.  (There is also a soccer field and a playground here.) 

The entry to this place is not at all obvious - we came to the end of a paved road and then followed some sandy tracks under high voltage power transmission lines for a bit more than a half kilometer.  What we found was a closed gate with a large 'Abierto' (open) sign above it, with another entrance to the west that seemed to be through a neighboring property.  We followed the latter almost completely around the park before stopping and getting out to see if we could find the office.  On the way there, Alea checked to see if the showers worked, but there was no water.

Hook ups for four RVs.

We found the office, and one of the women there spoke excellent English.  She said that camping for one night with power and water would be 180 pesos ($9).  Alea pointed out that there was no water, and the woman realized that a pump which one of the workers had just taken to get fixed meant that the water system was down.  She called to see if he would return soon, and he said the pump wouldn't be back up and running until tomorrow.  So they knocked 30 pesos off the price for us.  They also put a huge barrel of water and a small bucket in each bathroom.  We could use the bucket to flush the toilets, so there was no real inconvenience for us.

We were the only ones here until late afternoon (which was nice, as Lana was able to roam freely for a while), and we had the pool, which is surrounded by coconut palms, to ourselves.  The water is unheated, but it felt good to take a quick dip in the late afternoon, as the temperatures were likely in the upper 90s or hotter.  

Just before dark a large group of teens arrived on site, who seemed to be part of some sports program.  After assembling in the pavillion, they promptly went outside and ran laps around the dusty field in front of the park.  They cleared out by 7 pm, though we had hardly noticed that they were here.

Before leaving Loreto we spoke with some of our neighbors about good places for cycling down here.  There is a freshly paved road just out of Loreto that goes to the mission at San Javier.  We surveyed the first 10 kilometers and found it to be a smooth road with little traffic.  The part we drove along was composed of medium rollers (some rather steep), but eventually it turns into a serious climb up into the Sierra La Giganta.  So that is one possibility.

The other is down south on the road between Los Barriles and a campground to the north.  It seems some fairly serious cyclists use that for winter training, so if it looks good once we get there, we may stay there for a week.  We will get to survey that route on our way to the campground where we are hoping to stay.

I might as well mention that several days ago I finally sort-of figured out the speed limit system down here.  We repeatedly would reach the edge of a village driving the posted speed limit (usually 40 kph) and people would stomp on the accelerator and go flying down the road.  Of course there would be no sign saying that the speed limit had changed.  It seems it is a given that the higher speed limit resumes at the edge of the village, because most of these folks step on it just before where the speed limit drops to 40 kph for oncoming traffic.  Reduced speeds for dangerous curves work the same way - once the curves are behind you, it is back to the old speed limit.  Knowing that has made it possible to relax a bit more while driving, though every time a Federale gets behind me I wonder if he will tell me the system doesn't work that way.

Now that we are back on the Pacific side of the peninsula we are anxious to get to La Paz and back on the Sea of Cortez side.  There are a few more mosquitoes on the east side, but we've liked the towns and beaches that we've found there.  Whereas on the west side we see mostly chaotic little farming communities and a fairly boring landscape of coastal plains.

It is worth noting here the change in Alea's attitude about Mexico.  From the start, she has been great about jumping into this foreign culture, knowing full well that there would be challenges in communicating and in figuring out new systems and customs.  And when we entered the country, the thought was that this might be our first and last trip here.  After about a week she would start saying "If we return to Mexico..."  But after seeing the coast along the Sea of Cortez it became "When we return to Mexico..."  So barring any unforeseen unpleasant experience, it seems likely we will winter in Mexico again at some point in the future.

Dias 9 & 10: Loreto, BCS, Mexico

Our original plan when we left Mulege was to camp on a beach on Bahia Concepcion.  But our supplies were low because we couldn't find a decent supermarket to restock our pantry, and as we came down the hill overlooking the northernmost beach we saw the Baja Amigos tour group there.  There was space for us, but we figured it would be less crowded on our return north.  So instead, we surveyed the many beachside campgrounds along the Bahia as we headed south, deciding which ones we will visit on our return through this area (there are two different campsites that appeal to us).

So we decided to stop in Loreto, which is about 90 miles south of Mulege.  Along the way there, we came upon the scene of an accident, where a semi had somehow crashed, leaving the tractor straddling the steel guard rail and the trailer dangling down a steep cliff.  We suspect that the trailer was empty, since it would appear otherwise that gravity would have pulled it and the tractor over the edge.  After passing the site, we saw two heavy duty wreckers heading north from Loreto, and can only imagine the traffic delays that occurred once they went to work trying to winch that trailer back up the cliff.  (We just know that after a while there was nobody overtaking and passing us.)

We are camped at Rivera Del Mar (290$, power, water, hot showers, free wi-fi), a small, but very well kept RV park situated in a residential neighborhood in Loreto.  The Baja Amigos arrive here tomorrow, and this place is tiny enough that I find it hard to imagine how they will all get wedged in here (it is almost worth staying another night just to see that).

The planners that I know would find Loreto interesting.  Keeping in mind that this is a residential neighborhood, situated behind the RV Park is a Crossfit studio that plays loud music from early morning to noon and then again from late afternoon to late into the night.  That and the RV park are uses that seem somewhat incongruous next to what for most people is their largest financial investment: their home.  On the other hand, across the street from the park is a very small fast-food Chinese restaurant and just down the street is a tiny laundry service, both of which would likely be convenient amenities for the neighborhood.  But I suspect the apparent lack of zoning has an important benefit - it keeps land prices low, since there is always an adequate supply of land for any particular use.  It would be the availability of infrastructure that would dictate whether a particular, more intense use is feasible in a given location.  That, and the demand for whatever is being offered.

A pickup with loud speakers plies the Malecon.

It has taken us a while to adjust to the nighttime noise levels here in Mexico, and so are only just now starting to get some good sleep.  In most places we've stayed, crowing roosters and barking dogs are the main noise sources.  And at times there are enough coyotes to make quite a racket.  In larger towns, there are a variety of vehicles with large loud speakers mounted on their roofa, blaring some sort of advertising all over town, often until late at night or early in the morning.  We find that by running our fan at night it usually creates sufficient white noise to cover all but the most of these obnoxious noise sources.  But it is good that we aren't late sleepers.

Loreto has been around since the late 1700s, so there is some interesting architecture here, and another old mission church (the oldest and head mission church on the peninsula).  And the area around the main square has some attractive streets lined with small trees that provide some deep shade.

An ice cream vendor struggles to get up a shallow grade to the main square.

The government agency responsible for gentrifying various Mexican resort cities like Cabo San Lucas and Mazatlan has also invested here, though so far it seems that the city is off of most folks' radar.  The Malecon (the waterfront esplanade, where the LORETO sign is located) and new harbor would seem to be the visible results of those efforts, as would the flight from Alaska Airlines that we saw land here today.  There is a also a big nearby hotel, The Desert Inn, that was built under the program.

The big attraction here is the Marine Park around the offshore islands, a major snorkeling, diving and kayaking destination.  The waters are said to be clear for more than 40 feet down, and there is lots of marine life.  Since it is currently unseasonably hot here (it has cooled to the low 90s in the afternoon), taking a boat tour over to the Park presents a logistical challenge for us (due to having to leave the dog unattended in the heat), so unless it cools off considerably we won't be able to do so.

Environmental education is prevalent since the Marine Park has been established.

But a stroll down the Malecon was interesting enough, as there were hundreds of blues crabs of all sizes crawling over the rocks, with some even jumping several feet from rock to rock.  Even here the waters were clear enough to see plenty of fish in the bahia.  And just past the marina is a public beach where Lana can play fetch in the crystal clear waters.  She has never been a great swimmer, so we tried putting her life vest on (a vestige of our kayaking days), hoping it would make her more bouyant.  It was perhaps marginally effective.  If wearing it meant she could continue to play ball (we always worry that she'll ingest too much salt water because she sits so low in the water), she wasn't going to complain.  But afterward it was clear the she had indeed taken in too much salt water, as she later drank lots of freshwater and then peed prodigious amounts.  At one point she was clearly uncomfortable, which was almost certainly being caused by a distended bladder.

There are no large super mercados here in town, so our trip to get groceries and cash required us to visit both of the larger mercados, plus a mini-mart, in order to get everything that we needed.  But at least we will know where to do our shopping when we pass through here again in a week or two.  We also learned that there is a good, low traffic road for us to get some cycling in near here - the road to San Javier.  So it is likely that we will spend more time here on our return north, perhaps staying here more than once.

A while back I mentioned that we bought a four liter bottle of red wine for $4, or a buck a liter.  It is OK, but it is sweeter than I like my wine, so we went shopping for a replacement.  During our search, in one of the stores we came across "Liquor de Caña" in 5 liter jugs for about $3 (we didn't buy any - apparently it is a 40-50 proof liquor make from cane sugar).  We eventually found one liter bottles of dry wine for $2.

Dia 8: Mulege, BCS, Mexico

We took our time in hitting the road when leaving San Ignacio, opting to let the Baja Amigos tour group get out ahead of us. Once we had our chores done, we drove a short distance into town, where we had a look at the town square and the old mission church there.  It is an attractive building, constructed of lava rock, and with a huge guilded altar.

As we were driving into town I heard a squeak behind me that seemed to be coming from the camper, which sounded suspiciously like it was the wheel bearings that we had just had repacked. After visiting the mission I had Alea drive the van slowly around the square so that I could hear the sound and isolate its origins. It was coming from the wheel hub, and I suspect the nut holding the bearing race in place may have been a tad over-tightened. With that knowledge in hand, we kept an eye open for a good place to pull over (without an audience, which was the case in the town square), so I could pop off the dust cap and loosen the splined nut that holds the bearing assembly against the hub. That only took a few minutes, and a short test drive afterward failed to recreate the squeaking sound. Hopefully that was it, but we’ll pay attention to that as we poke along southward. We aren’t likely to drive significant distances for the next four weeks or so, but that will change once we need to start heading for Boise. If there is any trouble with the bearing, it will be those long haul days where it could become a serious problem.

While trying to find our way through town we found a water purification store, so we stopped to refill our 5 gallon jug and to buy a bag of ice. The total cost was 30 pesos, or $1.50 - less than we would pay for just the bag of ice in most parts of the United States.  These little stores house reverse osmosis machines that take the existing water through a multi-step process, with the final step being sterilizing the water with ultra violet radiation.  The attendant wears a lab coat, mask and disposable shoe covers.  He disinfects the returned bottle and then takes into a clean room to be rinsed and refilled.  And when they fill the bottle, it is ALL the way to the top.  When he is done he pops it through the window onto a counter for you.

Our water jug being refilled.

While there, we bumped into three guys who had stopped to admire our camper last evening. They’ve been living down here for years, and so offered some tips on what to see and do as we drive south, and suggested some places where to stay.

We also met our first bicycle tourist. Rick is from Seattle and was planning on riding to San Diego, but found that once there he couldn’t stop going, so he’s pedaling south with no detailed plans other than taking the ferry from Santa Rosalita over to the mainland and continuing south.

We passed the couple that we had seen at Rice and Beans, several miles out of San Ignacio. And as we entered Mulege we passed a couple with a Counterpoint-style tandem (recumbent in from, standard configuration in back), who were towing a fiberglass Bob-style trailer. They had a CH sticker on the back, so there were likely Swiss. Either that, or they had been through Switzerland at some point in their travels.

Just before arriving at the Sea of Cortez we descended the steepest grade on the Transpeninsular Highway, Cuesta del Infierno (roughly translated as the grade to Hell).  The Baja Amigos tour guide noted that one section was a 12% grade, while there are other sections that are 7% and a few flatter places.

La Cuesta del Infierno, with the Sea of Cortez in the distance.

In San Ignacio and many other areas that we passed through today we saw signs of a major storm or storms in the area. Date palms were decapitated, low lying areas were being cleaned of storm debris and several of the vados (fords that are normally dry) on Mex 1 had been washed out, though all but one of them had already been repaired. This knowledge scuttled our original plans for this evening, which was to stay at a beachside campground about 15 miles north of here. The campground was at the end of an 11 mile long gravel road, and that road was in an area with a LOT of washed out vados. We didn’t like our odds that either the road or the campground would be open, and didn’t relish the idea that we might have to back up a long way to get out of there.

So we pushed on, hoping to stay at an established campground in Mulege with a restaurant called Ray’s Place. But when we got there a couple of different signs told us it was closed (likely due to storm damage). So we continued on, picking Villa Maria Isabel RV Park (360$, power, water, hot showers, wi-fi at the owner’s house) just south of town (it is owned by ex-pat Americans). We got a prime spot between date palms and with a nice palapa for shade.

The campground is in the process of being restored from the storm damage, and when we arrived early in the afternoon we were the only campers (though one other couple arrived there after dark). We asked one of the owners (Antonio) when the storm took place. He said they had a big storm about a month ago, but a lot of the damage is from a total of eight storms over a 13 year period, and that there had been no storms that caused any significant damage for more than 30 years prior to that.

There are a number of houses between the campground and the river, all of which are now abandoned. Antonio said that most of the owners had tried to rebuild, but nearly all of them gave up after the third big flood. And all through town there are signs of undermined roads, storm debris, eroded banks and a washed out bridge. The main part of town seems to be mostly intact, though the south side of town didn’t seem to fair too well.

We heard from our CPA. It sounds as though he will be contacting the IRS with specifics about our situation, most likely to see whether we can fund our HSA with the full $8,550 that we are allowed under the law, and whether we can simply return the amount we overfunded to our IRAs (since those funds are still untouched in our HSAs) so that we are in full compliance with the law. But first we had to contact USAA because they had mis-coded our HSA funding transfers on the 1099 form for 2014. So we have to wait for them to send us a corrected 1099 form before he can contact the IRS for us. Once he hears back on that we should know for certain what, if any, financial ramifications there will be for us (other than his fee), and he can go about filing an amended return for us.

We went into town and explored, visited the lighthouse (Faro Sombrerito) and took Lana to a beach on the Sea of Cortez to get some exercise.

We are entering an area where there is a lot more for us to see and do, so we are selectively skipping over some areas on the way south, so that we can visit them on our return trip north.