Dia 1: Maneadero, Mexico

Our first day in Mexico was certainly interesting enough. I rode the 6 miles or so from the campground to just before the border, where we piled the bike in the van and crossed together. We drew a crowd of customs officers, city police and Federales when we were stopped for inspection. That entailed opening the rear doors of the van and producing the trailer’s registration, so that it could be confirmed that the VIN number matched.

Traveling the Mex 3 "Ruta Del Vino" (wine route).

We’ve been reading a book on camping in Baja by the Churches, and the appendix has a collection of road signs in Spanish, so that you know what they say. I guess they figured that we would know all the international signs (and so did we). Of course just as soon as we left the customs area we saw lots of signs with a big black capital E, with a red circle around it and a red slash through it. That threw us, as the only Spansh word with could think of that started with E was entrada (entry, as in no entry). But it sort of looked like a No Parking sign. Sure enough, “No Estacionarse” is Spanish for no parking.

Last night we had written out directions to get to a supermarket, ATM and gas station before leaving Tecate (since we can no longer rely upon Google Maps). Of course the road that we were looking for had a different name near Mex 2 than what it is named near the supermarket, so we missed the turn. Instead, we snaked our way through town, hoping to find the correct road. We eventually found the supermarket, and somehow managed to avoid driving the wrong way on the occasional one way (un sentida) street.

The supermarket was a bit of an experience for us. They had a bakery with lots of fresh baked goods. Everything was priced, but we couldn’t find any bags, or any means of marking the price on things. Then Alea noticed a rack of trays and tongs, and correctly deduced that we should put what we want on the tray and take them to the counter, where the staff bagged them and put the correct price on them. We got some rolls with melted cheese and jalapenos on them, along with some desert.

Alea shows off the tasty snack that we found at the Soriana Supermercado.

We didn’t need to do a lot of shopping, just pick up some vegetables and a few odds and ends. But we got a couple of types of chorizo and some Mexican cheese to try, since those are likely to be less expensive than the ‘exotic’ stuff from the USA that we are used to. A lot of freshly baked oat bread was less than 70 cents, so it certainly seems that prices on some items will be less expensive in Mexico.

Gas was also an interesting experience. Like in Oregon, an attendant pumps the gas for you. Of course we had no clue how to say “fill ‘er up,” but the attendant humored us. At least we could tell her we wanted Magna, or regular, gas. We tried paying for the gas with our Visa card, but it wouldn’t work. But American Express did. Go figure. Gas was around $3 per gallon. Supposedly the price can vary near the border, in response to the price of gas in the US. As we go south the price should be more or less fixed, though at present we don’t know whether that means that it will be more or less expensive, or about the same.

From there we headed a short distance to the beginning of Mex 3, where I got out the bike and started riding. It was basically a pattern of a long climb followed by a long descent about every 10 miles, for nearly 40 miles in all (total miles for the day: 45). The road was in excellent shape and built to US Hwy standards, which generally means a nice, wide shoulder. So the miles went quickly, and Alea was able to find places to pull over in order to support me (she didn’t dare park on the shoulder, as too many people use it as the travel lane). Or at least she could until we ran into the road construction. Fortunately the road was rough enough that I could ride about as fast as traffic, because it was all narrow, dusty roads for several miles. I even got cheered on by occasional groups of construction workers, who were obviously amused seeing an old gringo riding a bike through the mountains so far from a town of any size.

We arrived at Rancho Cerro Mudo on the outskirts of Guadeloupe fairly early in the afternoon. It is a campground run to support the adjacent school for the deaf. Signs in English told us to pick a site and someone would be along shortly to help us out. We checked to see the condition of the toilets and showers, but everything was locked up (having obviously been vandalized at some point). So we waited, thinking perhaps we would be given a key. 

Rancho Cerro Mudo.

Eventually an old gringo stopped by, who was squatting in one of the campsites. He stated that the campground is no longer operational, and there were no toilets. But there was water and power on our site, so we were puzzled by that. But we weren’t interested in camping without getting a shower, as I was covered in sweat, salt and dirt.

Since it was 95 degrees out, we decided we needed to find a place to camp with “facilities.” So we headed down the road. In about a mile, there was an RV sign, signifying a nearby campground. We followed the sign and ended up going down a road for several miles, and if there was a campground along there somewhere, we missed it.

Despite the pleasant riding from Tecate, by this time I believe that we had both come to the conclusion that riding to the tip of the Baja Peninsula was going to be a white knuckle experience most of the way. The road thus far had been fine, but we were about to pass through a city of half a million people (Ensenada). And beyond that is the transmontana, a stretch of Mex 1 where the pavement is 19 feet wide with no shoulder, and where a lot of large RVs end up having their mirrors clipped off by passing semis (a lot of RVs are 8 feet wide, before considering the mirrors, so 19 feet doesn’t allow much room for error when a semi and RV pass each other on the road at 50 mph). We were also warned that in many of those narrow stretches, the edge of the pavement can be anywhere from several inches to a couple of feet higher than the abutting road shoulder. That means that bailing out when trucks are careening toward you from both directions can be as hazardous as trying hang tight and ride the edge of the pavement. It would also make it very difficult for whoever was driving the van to pull off the road, since the van has very low ground clearance. So we’ve decided that we’ve pretty much concluded our continuous streak of 7,000+ (probably more like 8,000) bicycle miles for the year, though we may bicycle some of the southern coastal sections, if the roads improve and/or the traffic volumes decrease sufficiently.

With no means of keeping track of each other’s whereabouts here in Mexico, our leap frogging of the van and bike were likely to cause plenty of anxious moments. Neither of us was looking forward to that inevitability, and staying together means we’ll have more time to relax and enjoy the sites along the way. There is enough anxiety right now just trying to figure out how things are supposed to work here.

When we rolled into the northern end of Ensenada it was shrouded in fog, and the temperature had dropped into the 60s. The next 20 miles would have been an ugly ride along Mex 1, with high traffic volumes, rough pavement surfaces and lots of turning conflicts. We saw a truck in front of us pass a parked truck with what seemed like just a few feet to spare, only to see a man on a bicycle who somehow managed to squeeze through between them. And that despite sign recommending swinging out 1.5 meters (4.5 feet) clear of any cyclist.  That guy didn't even have 1.5 meters between the two trucks!

Having had a long day, we decided to stop at a supermarket and get a six pack of Corona. From there we headed to what we had originally thought would be the location of our second night’s stay in Mexico. We turned off Mex 1 at Maneadero and pulled into Centro Rectivo de Mi Refugio (150$, power, water and hot showers). It was easy enough to find, as the owner has built his house in the style of a castle, complete with crenulated walls, towers, etc. 150$ is a bit more than $8 (we got a discount - the advertised rate was 200$). The campsite overlooks a large estuary, so the view is pretty good. And once we had paid, someone scurried over to clean the toilet and shower rooms before we had a look inside. While there is power here, it isn’t grounded. And we’ve been warned that power in campground can drop to low enough levels that it can damage the air conditioner. But it was cool enough that wasn’t a concern.

Centro Rectivo di Mi Refugio.

The toilets were a bit of an experience. Bring your own toilet paper, but don’t flush it down the toilet - put it in the trash can next to the commode. And we had thought that the lights in the building did not work, but it turns out they were on a timer. The plumbing was working in the sink on the men’s toilet, but not the one in the men’s shower. Of course the one in the men’s toilet didn’t have a mirror, so I had to fetch my own mirror in order to shave.

There are lots of loose dogs here, nearly all appear to be owned by folks living nearby. Most have no collar, and a large pit bull was the only dog that I saw wearing a harness. The first time that Lana came across these loose dogs I picked her up and her reaction was to try to scare them away (the other dogs didn’t react well to that). By the end of the day she seemed to have learned to just be quiet while I was holding her, until the dogs eventually got bored and wandered away. But I’m still not sure that she isn’t giving them the ‘stinky eye.’ All those dogs means that there is dog crap everywhere. Fortunately, most of it is dried up.

It got dark by 5:30, probably due to a fog bank offshore (or possibly an ominous omen of the presidential election), which rolled in around that time. After dark, every now and then the nearby dogs would go crazy. Most often due to some cats prowling around outside, but sometimes because an owner had just come home. We heard a van driving around the neighborhood blaring something in Spanish. We didn’t hear the words Trump or Clinton, so figured it wasn’t about anything of interest to us.