Pescadero y Playa de Cerritos

October 11, 2004



A few last pictures from Bahia Concepcion.



Bahía Concepción a Norte de Puerto Escondido

We met a nice couple at the campground on the Bahía and we agreed to camp together the following evening at a public beach with no fees and thereby no services or security. Todd and Charlotte are embarking on a trip that makes us feel like failures. They quit their computer industry jobs, sold their house and are driving from South Carolina to Panama, from there they will be heading over to Asia to travel about. Their trip is scheduled to last two years. We had a very nice evening with them and our two refrigerators combined to make a very nice dinner.



Dan, Todd and Charlotte on the beach.

The next day Dan and I headed for La Paz hoping to get our ferry reservations all squared away. No one at the ferry speaks English which didn’t help matters. Through a series of drawings and awkward pauses, while we consulted our dictionary, we were able to figure out that the ferry ride will cost us somewhere between $300 and $500 and that we cannot buy our tickets until November 1st.

Additionally we need to procure a Mexican vehicle permit. This document ensures that we didn’t bring our rig down here to sell, apparently our explaining to them our motives, that this really is our only vehicle and our only housing, is woefully inadequate. Of course the place to get the permit is 17km out of town, it closes at one, current time 1:15, and tomorrow, October 12, is Mexico’s celebration of Columbus Day, they will not be open. So faced with the choice of spending two totally unproductive days in La Paz or continuing on down south where the promise of surf waves beckoned, I bet you can guess where we are now.

October 12, 2004
La Paz a el San Pedrito RV Park, sur de Todos Santos.

Our trusty Surfer’s Guide to Baja informed us that there was cheap camping to be had right at a surf break, south of Todos Santos; so this is where we went. The surf was big, really big, and far too big for surfers of our limited abilities. The camping however was fantastic, and we enjoyed a wonderful night on the beach.


Waves at Pedrito


Our palapa.


Sunrise.




Side bar: The image that kept me going the last 18 months before we left on this trip, was of waking up, opening the camper door onto a beautiful white sand beach with good surfing right out in front. I am getting really close to this dream now and I can almost taste it.

The next morning we again consulted the Surfer’s Guide which led us to a more beginner’s friendly beach, which is where I am now writing this from. This beach, Playa los Cerritos (which I believe means beach of the little hills), is in fact a much better fit with our ability, or lack there of.

The campground here apparently only operates from November through the end of the busy season, as such camping here is currently free. There are about seven other rigs “camped” here, the quotes are because I don’t really think they ever go anywhere else, they seem pretty permanent. Our “neighbor” ,“Juan” (not his real name, seems he’s running from the law for a drug offense, I didn’t ask for specifics), told me enough about some of the locals to make me not feel great about being the only woman for a ten mile radius. Not to mention that Juan, “it’s only a probation violation”, didn’t warm the cockles of my heart either.

I had just about talked myself out of staying here when I was very pleasantly surprised to see Todd and Charlotte pull up. Also another couple we had met the night before, John and Amanda (from Telluride only an hour and a half from our home town) spent the night in the park too.


Our safety in numbers group.

I went to bed convinced I’d be able to sleep, which has been a bit difficult for me since the San Diego intruder incident. Well it seems that “Juan” is a bit of a movie buff, and he likes to watch them ALL FRIGGIN’ night. This requires the use of his rather loud generator. Free campgrounds don’t enforce generator hours I have learned. Since “Juan” was parked right next to us this proved to be rather a nuisance, by midnight it was more of a cause for attack and by 2am when I was still awake it had escalated in my mind to the worst infraction “Juan” has ever committed, one surely punishable by death.

At 3am I turned on our stereo to try and drown out the noise and save myself a murder rap. By the grace of God the movie show finally ended at 4:30, with the generator finally turned off I managed to get a lovely 2.5 hours of sleep. I awoke to find that the more senior residents had already let “Juan” have it, saving him from my wrath, which can be substantial when I am denied either rest or food.

Additional Side Bar: Dan and I have coined the phrase “Hangry”. Hangry is what other’s, apparently better tempermented than ourselves, might refer to as low blood sugar. Except when we fall prey to low blood sugar we get grumpy, hence Hangry.


The "campground" at cerritos and a patrol plane flying over.


Cerritos beach.

Well rested I got up this morning, drank a pot of liquid courage and hit the waves. I am not good. Granted this is my fourth ever time attempting this sport and I can stand up, but I am still very intimidated by the real waves and find myself more at home in the whitewash closer to shore. Dan and spent the morning riding 1-2’ swells, otherwise known as shore break, and then I decided to get some “color”. I spent the remainder of the day tanning and crocheting. Dan requested that I make him a bottle cozy and this presented a new challenge since can cozies are my forte.

Tally for the day: approximately 20 waves caught and two bottle cozies completed.

October 15, 2004

We have been happily camped at the Pescadero Surf Camp for four days now. This place is sort of a surfer's hostel and we have met lots of really nice folks here. E.Z. the caretaker is fantastic as is Laura. Her boyfried the camp's owner, Hymee, is out of town, but none the less Laura and E.Z. have made us feel right at home. Each morning we have been driving to the beach to surf with Dave, who just finished a four-year stint in Cambodia where he was working to remove land mines from their fields (Princess Di's charity). Additionally it seems everywhere we go we are running into Colorado ski industry employees who are enjoying the calm before ski season by surfing down here.

After five stright days of surfing Dan and I are ready for a day off. Surfing has awakened muscle groups that I had forgotten I had, and ever pointy part of my body is bruised. But this sport can be so much fun that scraped and bumps seem a small price to pay.

Off to enjoy a fish taco and a Pacifico. Adios Amigos.


Bungalow at the camp.


The gardens here are magnificient.


Our rig behind the communal kitchen


Dan catching a monster wave.

Information Breakdown

I have prepared for your reading pleasure a witty, smart and insightful diatribe. However, it seems that I cannot get it from my laptop to the Internet for your enjoyment. This may be the case for a few days and since I don't want you all running off and finding younger, sexier RV bloggers, I am throwing you a web site bone.

The link below is where we have been staying for the past few days. This place is FABULOUS! check out their site and just know that we look exactly like the surfers pictured there, only we aren't really standing up, or in the big waves, but otherwise JUST like.

Hope to be back soon.

http://www.pescaderosurf.com/

Paradise Found

October 5, 2004
San Diego to Ensanada, Baja California, Mexico.

Dan got back late last night, I am happy to report that we both got a solid eight hours of sleep. Marcellus came down to join us for breakfast at the RV Park. We spent about two hours sipping coffee and telling stories. Did I mention yet how good it is to reconnect with old friends? After breakfast we said our goodbyes and Dan and I headed for the border. We had given a lot of thought to which border crossing to go to and finally decided to brave Tijuana. It turned out to be a piece of cake and we found our way to the toll road with no problems.


We easily motored down to Ensanada in about two hours. We made two stops in the town, the first to get our tourist visas stamped and the other to load up on groceries. It is worth coming to Mexico simply for the fresh tortillas that are sold in the grocery stores. For roughly .50 cents U.S. you get 10-15 fresh corn or flour tortas that are still hot.


All four of the Mexican guide books we have agreed that we need to stay at the Estero Beach Hotel and Resort.


They weren’t wrong, this place is an oasis. It is currently off season so the RV Park is maybe 10% full. We had the pool all to ourselves and now we sit in our beach front spot watching the sunset, drinking COLD Mexican beer with lime (gotta fight off scurvy). Life is really good.





October 8, 2004

Wednesday night we stayed at a remote beach just north of El Rosario. We ventured into El Rosario for lunch before camping and were treated to some wonderful Lobster Burritos at Mama Espenosas. The Baja Surf Guide book helped us find both Mama’s and our camp spot.





Dan had started to make us a nice enough dinner when a man we’d seen snorkeling in front of our camp spot came up with a net full of lobsters he’d just caught. We abandoned our original plan of tacos and for about $4 U.S. set out to make the best lobster dinner I have ever had!



We were up early and on the road. So far HWY 1 has been much better than I had expected it to be. However, it is VERY narrow compared to U.S. roads and each passing semi is cause for the driver’s knuckles to turn white. Yesterday we drove through miles and miles of cactus and Joshua Trees, as well as huge boulder fields and the periodic stands of palms. Things started to flatten out and the scenery became more of what I expected Baja to look like.


Iglesia de Santa Rosalolita

We set our sights on Santa Rosalolita because a friend of ours said it is a great little surf town. To get there you must travel 7 miles on dirt/ washboard roads. After about an hour traveling around 10mph and being jostled about like we were corn being popped, we arrived at the charming little pueblo of Santa Rosalolita. Much to our dismay however there were no waves, it was dead calm.



Iglecia De Santa Rosalolita.

Dan was a bit spent from hours of white-knuckle driving so we got him a Mexican Coke (Coca-Cola not the illicit kind). Now if you have never had one then put it on your to-do in Mexico list. As best as I can figure, Mexican Coke is similar to its American counterpart only in that it is brown and has the unmistakable label. Mexican coke, however, is served up in real bottles, it is less carbonated and perhaps sweeter than American Coke. Neither of us drinks soda regularly but Mexican Coke is a real treat.

Anyway now that Dan was sufficiently hopped up on sugar and Caffeine we returned the way we had come, and decided we’d spend the night Guerro Negro, a salt mining town
just south of the Baja California Sur State line. We are now in the lower half of Baja. We passed through our first federale check point with flying colors and did not have to resort to bribery with the ice cold cokes, water or smut magazines we keep on hand for such occasions.

October 10, 2004
Today marked our first foray into eastern Baja and onto the Sea of Cortés. We stopped in Santa Rosalia to check on the ferry system and learned that we need to obtain another permit before we book our ferry ride. We will be spending a day in La Paz later next week to get this all sorted out.

On the road from Guerro Negra and Sant Rosalia we hit our second Military Checkpoint and this time we did resort to gifts of cold bottled water and Coke. These Federales were more experienced in fleecing tourists it seemed and the only places they “inspected” were our cooler and under our mattress. Clearly they know where to look for cold drinks and smut mags. Fortunately for us we had been told to bring a stocked cooler and mags for such occasions. We forgot to get the mags, so the young man was sorely disappointed that there was nothing but dust under our mattress.



Rio De Mulegé.

Later in the day we visited Mulegé, which is the nicest little town we have seen in terms of architecture and because it has a spring-fed river running through it, it has a very tropical feel. There is a restored Franciscan Mission there and we toured it.





We have spent the last two days camped in a fabulous campground on the Bahía Concepcíon. For about $6.00 a day we have a private palapa on the southern point of this bay. There is a wonderful restaurant here run by the owners and we have treated ourselves to a few meals there. Aside from the complete solitude we are enjoying, there is also some pretty good snorkeling right off this point. On our snorkeling trips we have seen numerous rays, Puffer Fish, a Scorpian Fish, Sea Stars and I even got up close and personal with a Jelly Fish. We have had two wonderful days of complete rest and relaxation.

Not-So-Sunny San Diego

Today was one of those simple days, the kind where you get a lot done and enjoy the work involved, where since I am alone I did everything for myself and relished the self satisfaction that comes with independence. Just what I really needed. The last few days have left me near exhaustion and as frazzled as I have been since this journey began.

Dan flew out Friday morning for Jackson, WY. Barbara Marie Goddard, my mother-in-law, had a birthday this weekend. Not just any birthday mind you, but one of those big ones where mothers want their children near them. Her request was to have a weekend with her boys, no wives, no grandchildren. While I am sure that rafting and fly fishing would have been fun too, I was perfectly happy to get some alone time and I had surf camp to attend.

After I dropped Dan off our friend Jack, who lives in San Diego, picked me up for a city tour. We drove all along the coast in Jack’s convertible Mustang and I marveled at how well it corners compared to our behemoth.



Parasailers above Black's beach.


Del Mar at sunset.

After dinner Jack dropped me back off at the truck which was parked in front of our friend Kevin’s house in Del Mar, my first ever night all alone in the camper. I awoke early Saturday and rushed off to La Jolla to find a suitable parking spot for my surf class. I have no problem driving our rig, but I am willing to show up an hour early if it means I donn’t have to back the truck. Since we are dedicating the next three months to the pursuit of surfing, I am very pleased to report that I didn’t suck. In fact I stood up on my first try and a few times afterward.

After class I procured the phone number for another friend and was very pleasantly surprised to hear that he was in town. This friend is Sergeant Michael Marcellus Williams of the U.S. Marine Corps, just back from Iraq. Not only was Marcellus home, but this very day happened to be his welcome home party. I drove out to Oceanside and after getting the “fertilizer bomb check out” at the gate was admitted onto Camp Pendleton Military Base. Marcellus’ party was a fabulous affair, celebrated by his family, his wife Shannon, their two boys Gabriel and Lacy, and the family of another returning marine named Adrian. The joy and relief among the families was palpable.

I ducked out of the party at around 11:30 so as to get some good rest before my next surf lesson, and because I was beat. Truth is I don’t sleep well when I am alone, so the night before hadn’t been very restful and my body was fatigued and sore from surfing. I was parked in the driveway of Marcellus’ neighbor, on the military base and no more than 70’ from Marcellus’ front door.


Part of what is so great about this trip is the opportunity to catch up with old friends. Marcellus (pictured above) and I went to high school together in Cincinnati, Ohio. He wants me to tell you all that he dated Carmen Electra (she went to our school too), I will refrain from further comment on the validity of this statement ;)

At around 3:30am I woke up because I heard some weird metallic sound. My mind likes to play tricks on me when I am stirred late at night, so I tried to dismiss the noise as something outside, wind maybe, but it hadn’t sounded like the wind. I fell back asleep…then I felt a movement in the truck, my cackles went up. Nahhh Rachel, your head’s playing tricks on you. Then, a few moments later another movement, this time I didn’t stop to evaluate, someone else was in my truck and that was one person too many. I went from flat on my back in bed to up through the emergency hatch and standing tall on my roof 11’ above the ground, this happened in less than a second.

“Who’s there? What is going on?” I yelled out. Then I saw him, a man crouching on the ground in front of my truck trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and then which way he should run. We saw each other at the same moment, he froze, I started screaming bloody murder, he took off.

I woke up half the neighborhood. While sleeping in your camper on a military base is seemingly not as safe as one might think, there is an amazing neighborhood watch system. Military wives, who have been living alone while their husbands are at war, are fast to respond. Had this been 1950 they would have run out with rolling pins in hand, since it is 2004 they came armed with cordless phones and flashlights.

The next hour was spent with the MP’s, Marcellus, Shannon and Adrian’s wife who was one of the first wives to come to my rescue. My best guess is that this guy thought my rig looked like a good truck to rob. My doors to the truck cab were open- (I realize at this point that many of you are thinking how could I leave the doors unlocked, I remind you I was on base at my Marine Sergeant friend’s house and when I went to bed 15 people were still celebrating 20’ from me), I assume this criminal had no idea anyone was asleep in there and when he heard me yell I am surprised he didn’t soil my seat.

Needless to say I could not sleep after that. At 7:00 I finally gave up and drove back down to La Jolla. I’d guess that I had gotten about 5 hours of real sleep in the last 48, so surf lessons sounded a bit daunting. Never the less I rallied and enjoyed another two hours of paddling, standing and generally getting trundled in the surf. After class I took out my new board tried and succeeded to catch 3 waves and then poured myself back into the camper to try and rest. No luck, I never have been a good napper.

I decided that if there was any chance that I’d be able to sleep I needed to check back into the RV resort/park we’d stayed in the week before. I procured a spot, set up camp and went and lay by the pool. Kevin called and invited me to dinner with he and his girlfriend Amanda. I left the pool and packed up camp enough to drive up to Del Mar. For the first time I decided to leave my water and sewer hookups in place, I would only be gone an hour or so and this is a nice place. Dinner was lovely and I excused myself before I had a chance to pass out in my salad plate. I got back to the RV park and went to my spot, only to find out that while I was gone someone had swiped my water hose, water filter and pressure regulator. However, they were kind enough to leave my sewer hose.

This is where I had a minor breakdown. Basically I was completely tapped out, and now I didn’t feel safe in this $70/ night resort. Also Dan and Kevin both had insisted that I stay at Kevin’s house, so I felt like a jackass for having been so stubborn. My argument was that I had to stay in the camper, and get over my newly heightened fear of being alone at night or I may never be able to sleep in the damn thing again.

The nice lady at the front desk moved me to the month-long stay portion of the park, where she assured me “only real nice people stay”. I pulled off a miraculous backing job, managing not to hit either the fence or the Class A that flank me by about 2' on either side. I put a DVD in the computer and watched a comedy I had seen before. Additionally I downed most of a bottle of wine as a form of self-medicating. Something worked because I got six hours of somewhat fitful, but satisfactory sleep.

Dan flies in tonight. He is forbidden to take a “bump” thereby leaving me alone for another night. Staying alone last night really was good for me; my intuition/ perception have been tested and passed with flying colors. If dan gets stuck in Salt Lake, I feel certain that I can find another bottle of wine and get at least 7 hours of sleep.

Tomorrow we leave San Diego behind. Goodbye Santee, goodbye refrigerator repairmen, goodbye would-be car thieves and water system crooks; I won’t miss any of you. Jack, Kevin, Marcellus and family, thank you for looking after me, you all I will miss!

Onward to Mexico where it’s safe!


Installation of our new circuit board

Final conclusion on the fridge. We decided to tempt fate and just put in a new circuit board rather than a whole new fridge, since then everything is working fabulously. Two days and four mechanics couldn't bring us to the conclusion that about ten people fellow RVers could after I posted to our favorite RV Forum.

If you RV and you have not visited the RV Forum link on here then you really must. In ten minutes I had more information from those who've been there before, then I could get from mechanics and manufacturers. Once again the forum has saved us, and this time it saved us about a grand and another day or two in Santee. Thank you to those who responded to my plea for help.

The hot stays hot and the cold stays cold...how do it know?

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. The road to my own personal hell however, is paved with Dometic refrigerator circuit boards and cooling elements, additionally it seems to parallel HWY 52 and end up in Santee, California.

For months now our fridge has been prone to fits. It likes to stop working sporadically, and like a giant, evil Cyclops it stares at us from its centrally located "CHECK" light. This problem was addressed by us in Durango not more than ten days ago. However, the admitted $100 "stab in the dark" the repair guys took there has proven grossly inadequate.

As best as we lay persons can surmise, our fridge needs $1100 worth of repairs. Cost of a new fridge $850. So this is simple, we have buy a new fridge. It sucks, it's bad timing and in our travel economy it is akin to 21 days on the road. But when life throws you lemons you make nicely refrigerated lemonade right??? Of course not.

See it seems that when camper manufactures build a camper, or as we learned today even high end Class A RVs, they build the inside first. Then they put on jams and doors that are too small to fit the installed appliances through. Our fridge is 24" at its narrowest point, our door is 20.5". You do the math- not good is it.

Resolution? Buy a new fridge, totally gut new fridge, then re-build new fridge inside of camper. Nice huh? Don't forget that this will take time and labor to do. Cost of labor $85/ hour.

I realize this is a bit of a rant and I do try not to complain on here, because really, what on earth do I have to complain about. Mainly I post this as an FYI. If anyone should be reading along and thinking "I'd like to do what they are doing" then I offer this advice. When you visit your local RV dealer, bring along a tape measure.

Thanks go out to the following folks; Bob and Mike at Double-D RV. Rob, Lenny and Rob's wife (sorry I didn't catch your name) at Howell's RV Appliance Repair. And especially Wyn, a very nice man who was having his RV repaired and invited us to his house for a full hook-up and a place to call home while we await repairs. Yet again we are astounded by the kindness of others.

Chapter Two

Our trip has a few legs, or chapters. The first chapter was from day one of unemployment through our trip down the Grand. This new chapter will take us through this fall and Mexico.

Zion National Park/ The Subway.



We met up with Brother Pat, his friends Eric, Chris and Joyce, and our beloved Meredith, Friday afternoon in Hurricane, Utah. We kicked off the weekend with a nice bike ride out on Gooseberry Mesa outside of town. From there we headed up to Kolbob Reservoir Near the Northwest corner of Zion park.


Fly fisher on Kolbob Reservoir.

The morning before we met everyone we visited the backcountry permits' office in the park and procured a permit for The Subway. This is a canyoneering hike 9-10 miles in length. Saturday morning we rallied early and headed for the trail. Little did I know how truly amazing this day would be.

The hike begins in a conifer forest and then opens up onto a slick rock basin, before dropping into the slot canyon that the hike is known for. During the hike we scrambled over boulders, swam through deep 45 degree pools and even rappelled a 30' cliff face. Here are the pictures.


Joyce walking along the slick rock section.


This was the first technical move. A shimmy/ fall down a 12' boulder.


Pools along the route.


One of the pools we waded/ swam through.


We tried to straddle over this pool, we all ended up swimming at least some of it.
From here we swam another pool, probably 100' long and 4' wide with a boulder chalked in the walls above the pool, this proved to be the longest pool.


The actual "Subway".


To access the rappel, you must cross over a 30' falls by walking over a fallen tree which acts as a bridge.


Dan posing on the rappel.


Have I mentioned that I am not a big fan of heights?


Pat made a friend along the way- and no he didn't really eat this guy.


Cascades on the lower section of the hike.


Brother Pat really liked all the frogs, he took this picture.

Sunday morning we were all a bit slow to rise. The Subway hike had taken us almost eight hours to complete and we were all feeling muscles we had long since forgotten about. After breakfast we decided to hike another canyon, albeit a much shorter hike than the previous days'. Our hike took a detour when we realized that the canyon we had intended to hike was filled with smoke from a nearby fire. Instead we hiked a maintenance road to get a view of the fire.


The canyon we meant to hike.


Our Group.


The fire that thwarted our hike.


Last night we decided a culture shock might be fun, so we said goodbye to our friends and the wilderness and headed for wild life. Vegas baby, Vegas. Dan had never been to Sin City. We found a nice spot in a casino parking lot, easily accessible from I-15. This particular casino lot, which is adorned with various medieval flags, has no overhangs, no fees and is a nice enough place to catch a few winks after walking the strip.

Despite my inherent loathing for this town, it does fascinate me in a morbid sort of way. Additionally per various conventions I have attended here, and a class I took in college, I know a lot about the place. I gave Dan the .25 cent tour of the strip complete with a few free shows. After an all-you-can-eat dinner we headed for a craps table. Two hours later I was right back where I started with $20 and had "earned us" eight free beers. Really, what more can you ask for? Our night's sleep in the parking lot went undisturbed. This morning we had biscuits and gravy, 3 eggs, hash browns and toast for $6 total- I suppose this town does have a thing or two going for it after all.

Currently I post this from I-15 while traveling at 65mph in the Mojave National Preserve. We hope to hit the beach tonight.

On the Road Again

We are slowly recovering from 5 days of (it pains me to say the word...) WORK. Yes we were offered a chance to earn some moolah once we returned to Durango and we felt we couldn't turn it down. Thanks to our buddies at The Ski Barn for always employing us, and for making work as painless as possible :) We spent last weekend in Breckenridge selling ski equipment. This proved to be a wise decision on our part, since our brakes had been squeaking and as we feared they needed replacement. Additionally our fridge has been acting up. Total cost of needed repairs approach. $600.00. Total earnings for the week about $700.

But never fear dear reader, this was a temporary affliction and we are happy to be posting this evening from Zion Nation Park in S.W. Utah. We are on our way to once again meet up with Brother Pat. (Some of you have written to tell us that you, on occasion, live vicariously through us. Would someone please let Pat know that this is best done from afar, and via computer?) This visit is special though because my dear friend Meredith will also be joining us, and the three of us can surely manage Pat.

We left Durango yesterday and boondocked in Dixie National Forest.


The spot was absolutely devoid of other people and it was a fabulous first night back home in the camper.


Lunch in Bryce Canyon

Today we drove through Bryce and Zion, both firsts for us, and both on the must see list. Hiking and biking are plentiful in both parks and the rock formations are surreal.

While in Bryce we hiked up Mossy Cave trail, here are some pictures from the hike.


Waterfall and rock formations along the trail.


Arches, there were actually three windows/ arches here.


Dang in the window seat

Tonight we are camped in South Camp in Zion. Tomorrow we have a 7am date with the backcountry permits' office across the road.