The Baja 1000

Still June 15
No, not that Baja 1000, but the 900 plus miles we have left ahead of us before arriving in La Paz. After crossing the border we find ourselves on the "scenic" portion of Mexican 1, and I'm sure it would be scenic if it were light enough to see. We know the Pacific is out there to the west but all we can see is resort after resort. At some point we decide enough! and leave the highway for Rosarita and stop at the Hotel del Sol Inn which faces the main street. The room is very nice (the equivalent of about $40 usd) and we park Buddi, cover her for the night and take off of foot looking for food.
Rosarita might very well be Carolina Beach with restaurants, surfer shops and souvenir vendors. The difference?...all we hear is Spanish, although truthfully there are a lot of areas in N Carolina where Spanish is spoken almost exclusively. We check out a nice looking restaurant/bar across the street from our motel and decide it is too crowded and noisy. Crossing the street once again we find a taqueria with wonderful odors wafting towards us. We step up to a counter where beef, pork and shrimp are being grilled and we each order a couple of tacos, queso on harina tortilla with all the fixins for me and of course carne for Larry. We watch as they put our tacos together, then we select soft drinks (no cerveza here) and as we are trying to figure out where/how to pay for our meal an American couple comes up to us a says, "Just tell them what you had when you are ready to leave and they'll tell you how much!" Mexican honor system. This couple told us they were in town from San Diego for a conference and have eaten here several times as the food is so good. And it is.
By now it is about 10:30 according to our bodies and heaven only know what time zone we are in, so back in the motel it's tooth brushing and contact lens removal and lights out.

June 16
This morning we are back on the scenic highway. Too bad the day is overcast and the view hazy as there might be spectacular views of the Pacific. I snap a few pictures but can tell at first glance they are now worthy of the scenery we are passing. Also, my camera battery is very low and I won't be able to charge it until we stop again. We see magnificent, almost palatial, homes both on the water and on the hills to the east.The ocean is rough with waves crashing on the shore and I understand this is quite a surfing spot. As we go through Ensenada a street vendor selling small green parrots freaks out when he sees Buddi: "Cuanto, cuanto," he asks. "No para la venta!" we reply. He grins broadly and gives us a thumbs up.

Santo Thomas Winery

I love watching this world go by: ocean on one side, then as we move east across the Baja we find miles of desert interspersed with bright green as irrigation allows the growing of corn, cabbage, strawberries and grapes for wine.
The highway is much improved in the past two years with only occasional stretches of construction. The landscape varies: desert, desert with skinny, hairy cacti, mountains, giant rocks, a glimpse of blue water, then back to sagebrush and sand. As we approach Catavina I glance at my watch. Rats! way to early to stop for the night. There, amid giant boulders, is the Desert Inn, an absolutely gorgeous resort that is so remote they use generators - yet still have every amenity, including a first class restaurant. We stayed there on another trip and thoroughly enjoyed a bit of luxury after a few iffy overnight lodgings. But alas, we will drive on by this time.
 By now we realize our gas gauge is moving to the quarter tank mark and remember-albeit a bit late - that we are in the middle of a long dry spell as far as Pemex stations go. We both watch the needle go down as we go through tiny villages that have no fuel station. As the needle closes in on E we see a Pemex station up ahead...closed; but an enterprising gentleman has parked a small truck with a tank full for gasoline in the parking lot of the defunct Pemex. The hand-lettered sign, GAS, is welcome indeed. I mention to Larry that I've heard these guys often have "bad" gas. He shrugs; it's not like we have a lot of choices. After giving us a little over a half a tank the man holds out his hand and Larry gives him some pesos. I ask how much and Larry says "a bargain at any price." We continue and are extremely pleased to have purchased "highway gas" as we don't come to another Pemex for many kilometers.
We realize we are approaching Guerro Negro and debate whether we should try passing through the agricultural checkpoint tonight, or wait until the morning. We put Buddi in her cage, cover her up and stop at the checkpoint. I tell Larry, "no fibbing!" and he ignores me, but the guard simply asks, "Any fruit?" "No senor" we say and we are on our way!