Riding down I-5 to the international border, we see the signs for last exit to the US. Saying good-bye to all that’s familiar seems too easy, knowing that I’ve spent more than a year preparing for this day seems unreal. To have a dream and undertake it is a miraculous expression of the self.
Tijuana is chaotic, but despite all the warnings, people seem to get by just fine here. The drivers are more aggressive but they aren’t crazy, and while I must dial up my awareness I never feel in danger. Quickly we find our way south out of the city and accidentally end up on the cuota (toll road). Darren and I agree, “Screw the cuota!”, and we take the libre (free road) — slower, which allows us to enjoy the deep blue Pacific crashing on the beaches down the cliffs to our right. We pass motorcyclists who wave at us, we hit a military checkpoint but they wave the gringos through, a buzzard flies low to almost touch my head.
We arrive in Ensenada, home of perhaps the world’s largest Mexican flag and some giant golden heads. We have a large dinner — I get shrimp and fish tacos, Darren gets the “Super Donkey” — and we polish off the evening drinking enormous beers at a racer cafe, watching old Baja 1000 footage and the completely adorable bartenders.
Status: 7 May 2012
We are in Bahîa de Los Angeles and have stayed with some adventure motorcyclists we met at a gas station on the way down. We slept in their yard just off the bay on one of our tarps. There were coyotes prancing around at night, but they minded their own business. Today we are leaving for Mision San Borja via about 20 miles of dirt through the Baja desert. Then we do another 20 miles through desert to the main highway and 50 south to Guerrero Negro, just south of the border to Baja California Sud and the Mountain time zone.
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