One by one, after a 50+ mile day climbing out of the Bahia de los Angeles, the dogs said hello. It was rad. Each just rolled up from over by the cattle pen and said what’s up. Not begging or anything. They were happy dogs living the dream.
The ranch provided a camping area including a gazebo and what might be the crowning jewel, an incredible pozo (well), with a mini tienda (tiendito?) to the side. This was out there, half way between Vizcaino and Bola, on a heavily traveled dirt road. I guess it’s a common pitstop or stayover for many, but it’s still so mind blowing to see such setups throughout Baja, out on the dirt roads. So many ranches with hospitality. After a slow roll getting up, I’d set out to Vizcaino the following day which was getting into some of the sandiest aspects of the route if I remember correctly, but there were many sandy aspects to the route. This could have been one of dozens.
And in Vizcaino maybe I got a room, but I can’t remember. I know the miles between it, and the next village/town, San Ignacio, were heavy… no, the heaviest sand of the ride. Aside from the slow long ascent out of Vila, I remember more desire to get somewhere was creeping in my mind. I would pedal hard through the days for no real reason but habit. That was one of the things to unlearn, although Baja didn’t eliminated the desire to ride hard. I needed even more miles to do that, or something else, I was t sure, but the angst remained between bola, vizcaino, and San Ignacio, and so I hammered on, clearing sometimes 80 miles in a day. On the loaded bike that was something. I paid for it like a racer, puffy eyes and my chapped chamois less ass every day. And vizcaino was a highway town, so it was no place to dwell, but to resupply and keep rolling. I was looking forward to San Ignacio.
