"Wasting away in Margarittaville"
- Jimmy Buffett
"Wasting away in Margarittaville"
- Jimmy Buffett
Just south of Bahia Concepcion, Mex 1 comes to an abrut end of
pavement. The road simply ends. It's washed out, crisscrossed
with 12' deep gorges, and holes big enough to swallow whole
cities. We had to contend with this until we reached La Paz.
Picure us - with a 38 ft motor home, towing a trailer driving
down dry riverbeds - many times we didn't think we would make it.
We finaly pulled into Loreto just after dark. As irony would
have it, the dirt tracks described earlier turned into a 3 lane
freeway 1/2 mile out of town! (and disappeared 1/2 mile the other
side of town). We pull into the trailer park, set up camp and go
cruisin' for chicks. The only night club in town is closed for a
private party. We end up drinking Coronas and watching Top Gun on
the VCR by campfire light.
The next morning, we planned on finaly doing some diving,
but as Abe pointed out, we had many miles of riverbed like road
to traverse before we made it to Cabo, so we headed out pretty
early.
It's still early, and we are sick of driving, so as we
spy a turn off towards the beach, we take it. With visions of
boogie boards, bar-b-ques and beer on a deserted beach in our
heads, I pull the motor home up on the beach and set the parking
break. Off we go. A few hours later, we decide that it's time to
make tracks again. We stow our gear, all pile in, and Abe gets
behind the wheel.
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
Ok, we seem to be digging a hole in the sand. Abe puts it in
reverse.
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
Ok, We're still not going anywhere. We all pile out except Abe,
and dig around the tires.
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
Reverse
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
More digging
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
More digging
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
Still not going anywhere. At this time, we have attracted
the attention of all sorts of onlookers, who try and help us out
with a winch.
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
At this point a previously very nice lady points out that our
motorhome is "Stuck like log in the loo". We dig some
more, and Russ trades places with Abe.
Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr. Whrrr.
I head into the motor home to get a beer, now that this has
become a spectator sport, and Russ says
"Alright, one more try"
When I notice that the parking brake is still on! This motor home
is front wheel drive, and the parking brake locks the two rear
axels. No wonder we weren't going anywhere!
Russ puts his fingers to his lips to signify silence, shouts out
the window to the guy with the winch, and everyone pushing, slowly
releases the parking brake and we're free!
We wave thanks to everyone, and are 20 miles down the dirt track
before we mention the parking brake.
Abe imedeatly blames ME! for the problem. Wasn't it
him that didn't remove the brake? Wouldn't a normal person expect
it to be on when he gets in?
We pass on into the desert. Away from the coast once again. We
stop for lunch in the middle of but-fucking nowhere and roast hot
dogs.
We come finally to La Paz. All of the road markers in Baja
give the distance to La Paz, so this is a major milestone in the
journey. We stop for Dinner, make some phone calls home (first
phone we have seen since Ensenada!) and try and decide what the
game plan is from here. We decide that time is of the essence!
It's Christmas eve, and we want to partake of the purportedly HUGE party at Van Halen's Cabo Wabo.
We head out, and get hopelessly lost. The map shows Mex 1 leaving
La Paz, but damned if we could find where! We go in circles for
hours, and the map of La Paz in the AAA book is woefully
inadequate. It does not indicate the one-way system, or which of
the city streets lead where. At one point Russ gets so pissed of
he hits me! Finaly, we luck out and get the fuck out of there.
Tijuana,
Ensenada, and Points South! (Part I) |