Where was I?.....
OK, technically speaking, having a Garmin Montana with the Baja 1000 pre-run track loaded and plenty of SCORE mile markers and little yet sometimes elusive pink ribbons they had put up to mark the trail I was not really or technically LOST.
But, by my motto, and way of life I was LOST being alone, far from home and most importantly with not one fucking thing on mind besides the terrain in front of me, which happened to be a dark screwed up washed out dirt road in Mexico about 50 miles from pavement. The LOST feeling was indeed there, my mind bouncing back in forth between focusing on the trail not crashing and calculating how long it might take me to get to Loreto if this continues on like this.
Will I have the strength to keep riding like this, after a full day of living
Should I just try to find a flat enough spot and pitch my tent?
Is there anyone behind me that will find me if I go down and get hurt?
Was that a giraffe running in the shadows I just saw?....
In retrospect there might not have been any big animals running next to me in the nighttime shadows, and I didn't need to lay there bleeding hoping someone would find me. Me and The Mighty Husaberg were a good team, though I was questioning how well TMH would do in defending me from the crazy things I saw running around us.
I'm sure it sounds cheesy, but just l like in the movie Dust to Glory when the racers were talking about the crazy shadows one sees when riding in Baja at night I was seeing all kind of weird shit in my peripherals, daring myself to turn me head, taking my eyes off the trail flying by if but for a moment to "catch" it and figure out what it was.
Never did catch one, but you could not convince me they weren't there running with me that night.
The road improved somewhat, allowing for faster speeds and the miles clicked by.
A couple hours later.
I found a good looking motel with secured parking and a bar onsite, choosing to stay in town instead of being alone somewhere, images of scary things still haunting me.
It wasn't 10 minutes and I had a delicious gringo special, the oh so predictable Margarita.
And then I met Finn.
No, I'm not speaking in metaphors or was having another grand self realization moment, I met another guy named Finn. He was from France....... that's right next to Fraaance.
He was there from University of Iowa in a group of 3 folks, a professor and 2 students doing research on some kind of bugs that was all too interesting at the time, but is somehow is not coming out right now after a little wine.
Anyways, as I unpacked the bike, drink in hand I met this group and agreed to go get some dinner. It seems like it was a good agreement, they had obviously spent way too much time together and were happy to have a Guest with a story, and I was also glad to have some company. (and to be alive)
I could go on and on about delicious food, drinks flowing, great conversation, feelings of accomplishment, etc, etc, etc... but I wont.
The night went far too late, somehow the conversation about one kind of bug and it's relationship with a certain plant only found here, combined with Baja scuttlebutt, political views and such kept me up past midnight. I knew the next day would come very fast and expected it to be just as long and challenging as this one had been.....
I was right and not but seemingly 2 or 3 measly minutes after I laid down my alarm went off at sunrise.
The "road" outside of Loreto was a good way to start the day, even with my head pounding and muscles aching.
Followed by the common sights in Baja of an old mission church from the times when some people felt the need to force their beliefs and "save" indigenous people by building big structures to impress, gain power, money and influence.
Then as the road changed and I started to follow along a river I was able to witness evolution in the making.
Thousands of them.
Moving south, still LOST, life is good, blue skies, roads were good with miles ticking by heading toward the Pacific Coast. What more could I want?
The same butterflies common in the Midwest I had seen over the summer.... did they fly all the way here?
I rode through swarms and felt bad for killing more than a few of these beautiful creatures as I flew through space in Baja. (what do you call a bunch of butterflies? Flock, swarm, group?)...
And then it started as the terrain changed while getting closer to the coast and turning more south from my current western direction.
Sand, and whoops.
I was getting closer to my immediate goal, but it seemed Baja had a few tricks up her sleeve yet and wasn't going to let me get to LaPaz without working harder for it.
Still had to make time to see the little things that makes this place so special...
Matter of fact Baja was about to present the biggest challenge yet, and something that really made me regret not getting a full night sleep.
100+ miles of sandy whoops.
Legs pumping and burning, riding the fine line between the speeds I had (not) enough skill to ride at without crashing and yet not slow enough that I rode up and down each whoop, that were in places over 3 feet. Miles and miles of it, and the worst part was everytime I went over hilltop, I could see another 20 miles of the same thing laid out before me. You had to ride in the ruts the 4 wheeled vehicles had made in the deep sand, where the bushes and cactuses were constantly banging against my handgaurds and occasionally my arms and shoulders.
This was LIVING!
After hours and hours of bouncing around I finally made it to some small town on the Pacific coast, just in time before running out of fuel, both for the Husa and me. (does it really matter which town?)...
I picked a small cafe that seemed to specialize in seafood and waited 30 minutes while they made me some ridiculously fresh homemade soup. Good to sit down in a chair and NOT be In Motion for a minute.
Not much time to spare though, I still had a long ways to LaPaz and the sun wasn't waiting around for me. Anything but night riding in this... I headed back out of town and to the trail, determined to get to LaPaz tonight, still hundreds of miles away. (the Baja 1000 course this year was actually 1140 miles)
The course would get better, I was almost done with all the whoops, there's no way it can keep going on like that.
I was wrong, there would be no easy way, it was all the same, I was stuck on this road forever.