Balloons and Baja: Lack of Planning Causes Backtracking

I’m want to find fish tacos in Baja!  Mike announced, long before we got to Baja California.  And much has happened before he got those fish tacos!

The three weeks of October were filled with Albq balloon festival, eight days of mucking out junk and pack rat nests from our newly acquired property, buttoning up our house for winter, and packing the camper and Tracker.

The last few days before leaving, we had a dinner party for 8, then guests visited us for two days in a motor home.  We left the next morning.

In Arizona we visited three sets of friends in Prescott and my sister, Kathy and Richard in Scottsdale.  Then off to Yuma and Algodones for a cavity fix for Mike.  The night before, (good timing, I guess), I popped a crown off while flossing my teeth.

Good thing, because underneath was some decay, as well as underneath the filling next to it.  I got two new crowns and Mike; a filling.

Our driveway at the height
 of a long fall-color season.

The disaster with which 
Mike and I are dealing.

Mike and I in our Tyvek hazmat suits
worn  because of the danger of Hanta virus
from mice.  From pack rats?  Don't know.

In Albuquerque at the Balloon Festival in October.

Note the tiny basket 
under the huge balloons.

Such fun and what a
 lovely two mornings!

Driving down the interstate into CA, Mike said in alarm, “I hope they let dogs on the ferry!”  We planned to take the rig and ourselves on the ferry from La Paz, at the far end of Baja, to the mainland at Mazatlan.  But both of us had neglected to check about dogs!

Well, they DO allow dogs, but only under the most difficult of circumstances for both dogs and owners, not to mention the attention a diabetic one takes.  They can’t be left in the rig; they are put in a cage on the ferry deck.  You are not allowed to water, feed or see them in the 18 total hours of the passage.  Needless to say, no discussion was needed.  It was a no-go.

However, we WERE planning on meeting Australian friends in Baja.  In the end, we decided to go about ⅓ of the way, they backtracked a bit and we spent two enjoyable days getting reacquainted.  Then we started back north to the border.

We visited two places at the southern end of our journey, Bahia de las Angeles and Punta Santa Rosarito.  Both are very small fishing villages on opposite sides of Baja.  Neither has any redeeming features; stores, restaurants or sites. I’m sure it is nicer further south, but we already had to come back north, a long distance.

Headed north, looking for something interesting to see, we found it on our way off-road to an onyx mine:  We stumbled into the pit crew setting up for their truck for the Baja 1000 race, an 837 mile race through the desert on mostly dirt, some paved, roads.  We moved our camper out onto the desert to join them for the afternoon and night.

That afternoon a fisherman and his wife (friends of the crew) set up a tent, grill, etc and served fresh ceviche and grilled fish tacos to everyone. The fish was grilled with a sauce of mayo-mustard spread on the fillets, covered with onions and green peppers.  Both were absolutely fabulous.  

The first motorcycle of the race came through at 12:45.  At 5:00 stragglers (some on ATV’s) were still coming through —  they had started at 6 am!  We were at mile 348.  Apparently they change riders two times during the race.  Remember, 837 total miles, start to finish!

The trucks started about noon and by 6:45 the first one came through.  Surprising, but they, nor the cycles, are bunched together — partially because of the horrendous dust.   The pit crew told us when they were setting up, that they spend the day/night waiting, then work for 40 frantic seconds.

In the dark, the third truck to arrive so far, came wheeling into the pit stop.  Hurrah, we got to see them in action, as it was not the middle of the night!  In that frantic 39 seconds, they changed two tires and put in 55 gallons of fuel. One of the pit crew got a finger mashed (through gloves), another a gash on his head at some point (the pit crew wears helmets), then the driver was on his way.  And HE won the race, we learned the next day!

Mike's comment is that it is amazing that the racers average 50 mph, mostly at night -- in the horrendous dust.  But it was a surprising day and way, -- for Mike to get his fish tacos!

The first motorcycle racer 
coming through.

Ready and waiting for their guy.

The dust rolled through the camp, covering us all.

Thirty-nine frantic seconds to retire and refuel.

All hands up to show they are done and free of the race car.

South of Ensenada on the road to La Bufa, we found a lovely campground.  It was on the right, with a castle!  We missed it, drove past, then returned.  It was so pleasant that we stayed an extra night.

Some parts of the desert are beautiful. 

Our host's home at the Ensenada campsite.

A beautiful campsite sunset on the peninsula at Ensenada.

With Thanksgiving the following week, I remembered (my sister Kathy, Richard and friends, Tom and Deb were going to have a four-day weekend down by Bensen, AZ.  We joined them, then left from Bisbee late Saturday afternoon, headed south for the border.  Five days of hard driving and we finally reached Chilmulco hot springs for a rest.

September Color in Salida, Colorado

Mike B., Judith and I didn't work ALL week that they were visiting.  We got out a couple
of days to go ATVing in our lovely Colorado woods that are nearby.

Judith is a notorious rock-hound.

Mike caught staring into space.

Pack Rats and Trash: What We Did on our Summer Vacation

Mike's little 924 Porsche that he worked on
for three years and is finally is able to drive!
(Now he has a second one he's working on.)

We truly did have an event filled and busy summer.  In brief, we had company every weekend in June,  and also for a week in July.  In addition, our German "student" came back to visit us for 10 days in July.  It was good to see everyone.

In August, Ron, Shelley and Wes visited.  We had a good time, rode ATV's etc and Wes helped Grandpa work on both the house and shop chimneys.  They all helped out doing some things that were a little heavy for us.

But the big news for the summer came during the week they were here:  A little back history.  We have owned this property for almost 20 years, and 8 years ago we learned the property lines were surveyed, but never filed. . . therefore not legal.

For some reason, the LEGAL property line ran through our courtyard, and the chimney and my office in the house. We tried, repeatedly, to get our neighbor, who lives in Texas, to sign papers doing an adjustment, saying the line was where both she, and the lady we purchased this from, EACH showed us where they thought the line was.  No dice.  For eight years.  We finally saw a lawyer this June and started legal proceedings, but had not contacted the owner yet.

Then, in this momentous week in August, we got a phone call:  Her sister called.  They decided to sell and the brother suggested they check with us before putting it on the market.  Did we want to buy it?  DID WE WANT TO BUY IT!?!?!?!  And the price they quoted was even reasonable!  The five of us celebrated that night with pizza and margaritas in town.  (Wes drove us home!)

So as quickly as possible, we purchased this thorn-in-our-side-for-eight-years!  We now have 3.5 acres of riverfront property.  The parking area that we've used beside the house for years is now ours -- as is the old junk cabin and 35 foot mobil (pack-rat) home.  Apparently the lady had a stroke and needed the money. . . 

In September, son Mike offered to operate a rented Bobcat and tear the buildings down.  So for the week that Mike and Judith were here visiting, we worked.  First they chain-sawed all the branches off the old 65-foot Douglas fir that blew down 3 years ago.  Judith proposed stacking the logs from the branches, so she and I did that, while son Mike worked on demolishing this old pack-rat ridden dump, while Mike J. picked up.  Into two huge dumpsters went about 1/2 of the debris. The rest we hope to burn in late winter when there is a lot of snow on the ground.

Our daughter-in-law Judith cutting up branches.

The big Doug fir on centipede legs.

Mike with the huge tree stump.

Mike J. located a woodworking couple who agreed to come for the (free) 50-foot 3-4 foot diameter log.  But, so far no takers for the disgusting, horrible mobile home.  Someone suggested taking it for a rabbit hutch. . . And a guy came and hauled off 2 HUGE loads of steel.

The shed was solid enough to leave standing, but the junk and pack-rat nests inside must be removed -- safely.  We have hanta virus in Colorado, a deadly respiratory disease.  So we have purchased Tyvek haz-mat suits, virus face masks and rubber gloves, and will wear rubber boots.  This is a job of neither of us is looking forward to.

Mike B. surveying his handiwork thus far.

The interior of the shed that is still standing.

You are looking at bushels and bushels
of pack-rat nest debris.

The mess to date.

Mike B. working on a larger parking lot.
His idea!  Thought it was great.

Mike J. standing in a larger area to
turn around in now.

On a final note, yes we are planning on returning to Mexico, perhaps Guatamala, this winter; probably leaving around the first of November. 

So there you have it -- the photos my family requested of this project.

Broken windows; pack-rat infested.

Just one of two loads of steel that was hauled off.

This guy is 75 and loaded all this by himself!

A Mid-May Trip to Utah and Arizona

 Up and down, good and bad, that pretty well describes our latest trip! We left home headed for Utah with both trucks and campers. Utah, because we wanted to go ATVing, and both campers because we wanted to attend an EXPO of “Overlanders” (people who make adventure travel their life, if they can, or their hobby, if they can’t). The one truck and camper is for sale and we hoped there might be some interest there. Here is a brief synopsis of this crazy past week: 

Almost in Utah, we ATV’d this great little canyon, then on to a ride in Utah. The next morning we headed for Flagstaff, in the rain, and the overdrive went out of the Ford truck —rig we are trying to sell. Got to expo, crazy number of people and rigs, supposed to rain and afraid of getting stuck in the field campground with trailer, so camped in pullout up on the main road.

During the night weather worsens with wind, rain, and snow and Mike gets diarrhea. Next morning, I brave the elements on the ATV for five miles and attend Expo for a enjoyable couple of hours. Saturday, we leave, head for Utah and did great tour of Canyon de Chelly, then on to Moab to ride next morning.

The next morning Mike checked new oil filters on ATV’s, both leaking, can’t ride. Head home. Blow tire on trailer. Buy two new tires. Get home about five just in time for two inches more snow!


Instead of details of the above week, I will just add pictures and captions!

The old Bedrock General Store at the take-out of our Slick Rock
 to Bedrock run on the Delores River.
 The river is now dammed and the store closed.

The beginning of the little unnamed canyon
 in western CO near the Utah border. 

Just part of the old ghost town we found
 at the end of the little canyon. 

The walls are closing in.

And what beautiful walls they are!

The lovely double waterfall on the rim of the canyon.

The slick rock of Utah

Back on the quads

Fascinating old twisted juniper tree

Claret cup cactus.

Storm coming in fast.

Beautiful Arizona landscape in the spring.

Heavy rain approaching

The stables at the old Hubbell Trading Post.

And interesting four-horned goat head in the Hubbell museum.

The general store room of the Hubbell Trading Post.

Here we go -- driving of the creek of Canyon de Chelly

One of the many ancient settlements
tucked into the canyon walls.

Sheer canyon walls.

Our Navajo guide, Harold Smith, of Talking Rock Tours.
One must hire a guide to go INTO the canyon.
You CAN drive the rims of Canyon de Chelly.

Petroglyphs carved into the canyon walls.

A lovely clearing in the canyon., so peaceful one could stay a week.
  Many Navajo continue on up this creek where they live and farm in the bottom of the canyon.

My Honey on his 70th birthday.

Another large dwelling nestled in a crack in the cliff wall.

Massive rock formations.

A natural cave which was once walled in with sticks and reeds
to provide a protected home.