The Final Day to Our Baja Stay

Day 4:

Waking up bright and early the next morning, we saw the potential for some waves and we all suited up and went out surfing just off of the dusty, barren point at Cuatros Casas. It was just the four of us, and we had a great time riding waves over the crystal clear water. It was great, you could stand up on a wave and see the fish, lobster and other sea life scattering about below you as you glided right over the top of them. Sitting out in the water waiting for waves was beautifully mesmerizing as I'd watch the back and forth swaying of the long, dark green sea grass. Despite wanting to stay out all day in this desert paradise, we decided that we would cut this surf session short and move on so that we could get an evening surf in further up the coast.

Packing up camp, we figured we would start slowly heading back towards the border since we were a good five hours south of it. We remembered one really beautiful spot though that we wanted to stay at that was very secluded. It took a bit of off roading to get there, but it was definitely worth it as the waves were the best we had seen yet and we had them all to ourselves! We got a solid two and half hour surf session in with some great waves before we finally called it and began preparing for the night.
Aaron and I were put on Yucca gathering duty to burn in the fire, while Justin and Matt began to prepare dinner. The Yuccas are very spiky and if you aren't careful they will actually make you go numb where they prick you. Of course I got pricked a couple of times on my knees and hands and sure enough lost feeling for about ten minutes. It was worth it though because Yucca plants are amazing to watch burn. When they are dead and dried up, they ignite like fire balls!

Being that it was our last night in Mexico, we decided to go all out and have the biggest fire we possibly could burn and eat all the lobster, fish and burritos we could handle. We also had plenty of cervezas as well that ended up leading us to jumping over the fire, going for a midnight swim and howling at the moon. We really went all out on our last night and had a ton of fun celebrating the adventure we were on.

The next morning the drive back to the border was pretty uneventful. We chatted with federal guards and ate a bunch of poopy mexican food while waiting three hours to cross the border. All part of the experience though and all part of the fun.

This short adventure was amazing to say the least, but has left me wanting more. Not a day goes by that I don't think about heading back out to the furthest places in the world with a backpack, a notebook and the desire to explore the lands that aren't seen by most. Those days will come again. I know it.

Thanksgiving Lobster

Day 3:

Being abruptly woken up by mariachi music being blasted from a Nissan Sentra with its headlights flashing towards our camp was how we started our thanksgiving here in Baja today. Confused, a bit scared but more so annoyed, we all stayed put, not wanting to instigate a potentially dangerous situation. Thirty minutes later the mariachi alarm clock departed just as the sun was rising over the hills. Groggy and unsure of who, what, why that all just happen, we checked the surf, made breakfast and began packing up to move onto better waves. Just before we left though, the Sentra came back, music blaring. Unsure what was about to happen, we watched a small Mexican man get out of the car with trumpets still blaring from his sound system. With a guilty look on his face he sauntered over to us and began to apologize for playing his loud music, which was still playing, and still loud. He explained that he couldn't help it though and how sometimes when he gets really drunk and does a lot of cocain, he likes to play mariachi music as loud as his car allows and flash his lights at the ocean. Fair enough, but we asked him what the occasion was and where the party was at. He thought about it for a second and then smiled and pointed at himself, saying that he was the party. Laughing, we said adios to the delinquent and headed down the coast in search for the perfect wave. 

Driving two more hours down the 1 we finally hit the town of Colonet, where we turned in on a dirt road and headed towards the pacific. If you didn't already know, it's actually a law that as soon as you hit a dirt road in Baja, you have to crack a cold frosty beer to help you navigate your way to good waves. So cold ones in hand, winding along a perfectly blue ocean, sun shimmering off the water, we drove through the coastal desert, passing nothing but yucca plants and the occasional dried up, brittle cactus. The nothingness was surprisingly beautiful as we curved inland only to come up over a ridge with multiple points ahead of us with tons of potential. The swell was supposed to be at its smallest today and it showed. Each point was breaking, but the tide was high and the size was just a bit too small for the waves to work. 

Just as we were about to give up on it, some gringos road by on dirt bikes and told us that if anything was working it would probably be a spot called Cuatros Casas about 15km north. Optimistic, we thanked the riders and headed on to Cuatros Casas in hopes of surf. Arriving in no time, excited to check the surf, we pulled into the beautiful little community on the point. As we were judging the waves, which were still a bit small, we began discussing what we wanted to do. An American guy that had seen us deliberating, walked over and greeted us. He explained how this was an amazing surf break and with the right swell it could be the best wave you had ever ridden. Now the question was if that swell was going to hit. What sold us though was his invite to his Turkey dinner that night with him and his family, which we were glad he did because after setting up camp, Matt and I had an awesome longboard session and Aaron and Justin ended up catching a bunch of lobster and fish. 

Stoked on our decision we got Baja cleaned up and headed over to Trace and his family's place whom ended up being the gringos we saw on the dirt bikes! Having an amazing turkey dinner, we hung out by the campfire, burning dried up Yucca plants and playing the guitar and talking about Baja, which Trace had been coming to for the past thirty years.

Day2:

Waking up before sunrise, stoked to surf, we suited up and paddled out. As dawn began to break, we could see the sun crest the local mountains not too far away. The waves were really fun again but with a rapidly rising tide, the surf sesh was cut a bit short. I stayed out in the water anyways though, pumped on any wave I could get now that I was that one guy with a Baja wave all to myself. Finally coming in, Justin was headed back out, but with a spear gun in hand instead of a surfboard this time. Justin speared three fish that we saved for lunch while the rest of us made breakfast burritos.

After breakfast, we headed out in search for the next wave to ride. Racing down dirt roads, through the vast barren Baja desert, we couldn't wait to see what was around each new point. Following the coast through small village after village and contemplating multiple surf breaks, we finally decided on Punta Cabra. Our first look deemed it to be about chest high, but getting in the water, the sets started to build and soon

we had waves crashing on us that were nearly two feet over head. We weren't the only ones out there, but Punta Cabra supplied multiple peaks to choose from and each of us had our own wave to ourselves.

Surfing for hours until our bodies were sore and our faces were burnt, we all headed in, entirely exhausted. We decided to head back to Punta San Ysidro for a late lunch of ceviche which consisted of fresh fish caught that morning by Justin, avocado, local lime and cilantro. The rest of the afternoon we hung out and enjoyed the beauty of Baja around us, until Justin and Aaron decided to head back out for another spear.

    

Coming back with seven good sized fish, we filleted and cooked them up making fresh fish tacos with some homemade local tortillas that we picked up in a local village. A few beers later, the events of the day set in quickly as the warmth of the fire and the fullness of our bellies nearly lulled us to sleep. 

Baja

Day 1:

After a quick flight from San Francisco, I met up with my good buddies, Aaron Lanes, Justin Lewis, Matt Skenazi in San Diego. We had been planning this trip for months, however it has seemed like a lifetime as this has been a trip I have wanted to do since I first began surfing in San Diego as a young college student at PLNU. Something about being in a foreign country, searching for waves has always been more attractive to me than most anything else, and I was definitely due for an adventure as it has been nearly a year since my last mission to Guam. 

Before we crossed the border, we all decided to get a surf in at a break in San Diego, because we knew that we had a long day of travel ahead of us sitting in a car. It was just after sunrise and the water was much warmer than what I was used to way up North in San Francisco. The waves were small, but I didn't care because I was with my buddies, the sun was out and the optimism and excitement on this new adventure was high. 

Surfing for about an hour and a half, we all seemed to catch our last waves at the same time and headed for the trucks. We had two trucks, not because we had too much stuff, but because having two trucks was a solid plan in case anything happened while we were in Mexico. Heading down the I-5 our caravan neared the border. Not familiar with protocol, Justin and I crossed with ease and got right through, however Aaron and Matt got stopped. There was no stopping for us as we were herded and honked along like cattle. We were separated as soon as we crossed. 

Without cell service, we had no means to get in contact and no shoulder to pull off onto and wait. We had no choice but to move on until we were out of Tijuana. Not too frazzled by the situation, we eventually came to a spot in the road where we could pull off and still have a view of HWY 1. After about ten minutes or so, we spotted them, hopped back in the truck and with lights flashing and horns honking, we were sinked up again, ready to continue our adventure. 

We continued down the 1 seeing tons of surf breaks with one person, sometimes no one  at all at each break that we would pass, making us more and more eager to get in this Mexican water and surf our brains out. With the sun lazily hanging in the sky, we drove down past Ensenada to a small down called San Ysidro. We were the only gringos there and as we slowly drove through town, boony dogs barked at us, small children waved and people seemed to just stare as if we were a sideshow circus pulling into town with our surfboards strapped to the tops of our vehicles and our ear to ear grins beaming back at them. We stopped briefly to get minimal necessary supplies (beer) and then headed about five minutes out of town along a dirt road to catch a sunset surf session at a break just off of a point there called Punta San Ysidro. The surf was surprisingly fun as the tide began to dramatically drop and suddenly build to head high waves. After a beautiful sunset, we paddled in after dark and set up camp, cooked up some burritos, and then drank a few Mexican beers before retiring for the night, excited to see what tomorrow would bring us.