[This blog post (well, back then it was just a "webpage") was transferred here from Daniel's old website which is now dead.]

As usual, Micah and I were very laid back about planning our second annual Baja adventure. In other words, we put off planning until the last minute. We finally decided we should figure out some of the details when Christa asked us if we were really still thinking of going.

Actually, we really didn’t need to plan much. We were already experienced Baja buffs. We had even already picked out our destination, La Bufadora. It’s a small town out on a peninsula south of Ensenada. The main attraction to most tourists is the blowhole, through which the waves spout water. But we were going there because the diving was supposed to be pretty good. My boss had drawn me a couple maps of where the essential things were in that area such as good dive spots and local bars. And our camping gear was still lying around from our last camping trip to Joshua Tree, so it was more or less ready.

Thursday morning Micah and I threw all our gear into the car, went shopping for food, and pulled onto the freeway heading south. We didn’t get very far before our adventure started. I was flying along in the far left lane when suddenly my car started thumping violently. A little worried that I might be loosing a tire or something, I weaved through 4 lanes of traffic and pulled to the side of the freeway. As cars whizzed by at 75 mph, Micah and I stepped out to see what was up. Oddly, none of the tires were flat or falling off as much as I could tell. “It was the roof rack,” Micah concluded. It was easy for me to believe him, since the rack was about 5 years old and totally falling apart. (I think my dad found it in a dumpster.) “It must have been flapping in the wind.” We took it down and threw it inside.

Glad it was nothing serious, we squeezed our way back into the packed car and I started to pull onto the freeway again. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. “Um, I don’t think it was the roof rack,” I brightly deduced. We pulled off again, and this time I took a better look at the tires. The back left tire was in shreds!!! You could see the metal re-enforcement inside, and part of it was about to fall off. Great. Thus, we had the fun of pulling EVERYTHING out of the back of the car to get to the spare and changing the tire on the side of the road. We were off to a good start.

Our next stop was the dive shop, where we picked up 4 tanks and masks, fins, snorkels, and wetsuits for Katie and Christa. Near the dive shop was a tire store, so I figured I might as well get a new tire. Getting stuck in Baja without a spare would be a bummer. The guy at the tire store came out to look at the car and told me that my other back tire was really worn down, beyond the usable stage. So I ended up buying two new tires. The car sure handled better after that. I could go over 60 and the it didn’t shake furiously anymore! And it was easier to steer. Really nice. Now that I think about it, I think all cars are supposed to be like that.

We picked up Christa and Katie in El Cajon not too far from the border. Not surprisingly, we were late. Fortunately, they didn’t have very much stuff. Unfortunately, the car was already packed with all the boys’ toys, so we had to totally re-pack. Our toys consisted of a surf board, boogie board, two machetes (just in case), two tents, sleeping bags, food, camping stove, pots, 15 gallons of water, cameras, all our dive gear, a tarp, tarp poles, and all sorts of miscellaneous stuff that all added up. We tied some stuff on the roof and packed the rest around the girls in the back.

We bought car insurance near the border for $26, said our last good-byes to the US (a very touching experience), and drove across the border. Perhaps the biggest blessing of the trip was that the border officials didn’t make us unpack the car.

We made it to La Bufadora with about two hours of light left in the day. After scouting the place out, we decided to camp on a grassy bluff overlooking the ocean. We were the only ones camped there. It was an incredible area! We were a couple hundred feet above the ocean next to a cliffy drop-off. There was a spectacular view of the rocky shoreline below, with crashing waves forming white foam and spray. All within view of our campsite.

Christa and Katie were also quick to point out that we had quite a magnificent outhouse with a view of the sky. An interesting aspect of this outhouse was that the wind funneled through it just right to create an upward draft that would send any loose toilet paper flying out the top. The decorated hillside behind was evident that we weren’t the first ones to discover this automatic TP-ing machine.

After soaking up the view, we got to work setting up camp and cooking supper of rice and beef stew amidst the cold windy conditions. We almost lost one tent to the wind, but managed to get both set up okay. Using the car as a wind block helped some.

That night it rained. The rain coupled with the wind caused our tent to leak pretty badly. I didn’t care too much since I was so tired, and I wasn’t really getting wet. But then our tent collapsed on us. And the zippers weren’t working right, so water was coming in. Basically, the tent was worthless, so Micah and I abandoned tent and spent the rest of the night in the car. Kind of cheating I guess. The girls, who had the better tent, did okay.

We awoke to sunlight but still plenty of wind. Pancakes for breakfast. Then we decided to do some exploring. There was a skinny path that went along the steep hillside toward the north and looked like it ended up at the rocky beach we could see. It was in a partly secluded bay, so it looked good for diving. So all four of us hiked down to it to check it out. Micah, Christa, and I had fun taking pictures of every cactus, bush, and viewpoint along the way. Katie probably got really annoyed with us stopping every few minutes, and I’m surprised she didn’t just grab our cameras and throw them off the cliff. The rocky beach was a fun place to hang out. Micah and I climbed out on this one rock that required precision timing in order to get out to without getting your feet wet. Both my feet got soaked, which probably tells you a bit about my timing techniques. Before we left we of course had to take more pictures. Christa was certain she had a good idea for a shot of the rest of us lying on the uncomfortable rocks with our heads together. If the picture comes out, there will be uncomfortable looks on our faces and squinty eyes.

Next came siesta time back at camp. While listening to Loreena McKennitt on the CD player in my car, we sprawled out on the grass and relaxed. It was such a nice change of pace from being in college. Awesome surroundings and awesome friends.

That afternoon Micah and I went diving at the secluded beach we had been to earlier in the day. I’m sure somehow it was a good idea, but it sure didn’t feel that way as we made our way to the dive spot. We trudged along the narrow trail each carrying a tank strapped to our BC, 20 pounds of lead, a wetsuit, hood, fins, mask, snorkel, and gloves. It was probably a half mile each way. By the time we got to the beach we were so exhausted! But at least we were warm. Until our feet touched the water. The water on the Pacific Coast of Baja is generally about 10 degrees colder than the already freezing cold water of Southern California. That is because the Channel Islands block most of the arctic current up north in CA, but not down in Baja. Anyway, that meant the water was totally freezing even though we were dressed like navy seals. The dive was really good aside from the cold. We only went to 49 feet, but saw some cool stuff. Not only was there kelp to swim around, but there were Garabaldi fish, and thousands of purple sea urchins. At one point there was a school of about 50 or so medium-sized fish that engulfed us. It was so cool! They weren’t at all afraid of us, and swam within a couple feet. The most interesting thing we saw on the dive were these humungous starfish. The second one we saw was a foot and a half in diameter and must have had about 25 legs. We spent about as much time diving as thawing out at the surface when done.

That evening we decided to hit the town and see all the shops of La Bufadora and hang with the natives. We managed to get into town just as everyone was leaving and all the shops were closing. Perfect timing.

The fittingly named Los Gordos restaurant was open, though, so we opted for some authentic Mexican food. The food was very delicious. Perhaps the highlight of our dinner, however, was watching the other people in the restaurant. Most of them were gringos vacationing in the area having nothing better to do than sit around drinking and smoking. It was actually kind of sad. Micah and I got to talk to this 40 year old lady who was trying to hit on us. We were sitting over by the fireplace when she walked up. As we tried to get away, we could see Christa and Katie laughing at us from the table. Finally our food arrived so we had a good excuse to go back to leave her to her cigarettes. Another very interesting character was this older man who seemed to be in charge of keeping the fire going. The people at the next table over told us he was the 5-time winner of the Baja 500 race. What an interesting set of people! Then this Mexican singer came in trying to enhance the atmosphere with his beautiful voice and guitar skills. Everyone else in the restaurant immediately groaned when they caught sight of him enter. They obviously had heard him sing before. We made sure to leave before he came around to our table asking for money, although we did get our picture taken with him.

Although most of the town was closed, we did manage to find a stand selling fresh churros, which were awesome. We also got a good look at the spectacular blow hole that makes the area so popular. I’ve seen more spray coming out of a garden hose. I guess we hit it at the wrong time as far as tide and wave conditions.

Katie tried to call her mom, but her mom wasn’t there. Katie’s mom had been a little apprehensive about letting her daughter drive down into Mexico with some crazy guys for the weekend and was sure that just about everything was going to go wrong. I can’t imagine why she was scared to have us take her daughter to Baja. But we had assured her that we knew what we were doing and were quite used to surviving in other countries, so she had agreed. After Micah’s long e-mail explaining this she felt a lot better. She had asked for my parent’s phone number in case she wanted to contact them, but she didn’t realize she would have been calling across the world, and that if she had actually gotten a hold of my parents they would have had no clue as to what I was up to at the moment. Instead she called Micah’s mom, who assured her that no news was good news.

That night the wind subsided a bit. Micah and I had already given up on the tent so we slept underneath a tarp instead. The stars were beautiful. At least until I took my contacts out. The four of us spent a long time just gazing at the sky and talking. Katie and I managed to spot one of the best shooting stars I have ever seen, but Micah and Christa happened to be looking at the inside of their sleeping bags when it happened.

The next morning I had an awesome quiet time overlooking the rocky coastline. Since we had seen a special for $1 breakfasts at one of the other restaurants in town, we opted for that instead of pancakes. Once again, the restaurant was full of gringos. It was hard to remember we were in Mexico – it could have easily been some Mexican restaurant in CA. The prices on the menus were in dollars, and the waiters spoke English. While waiting for the food, Micah and I gave a little briefing of how scuba diving works so Christa and Katie would be ready to try. “If you go up too fast your lungs burst, and if you stay down too long you get too much nitrogen in your blood.” Great way to introduce new divers to the sport. No wonder they were a little apprehensive.

While the girls went looking at the shops of La Bufadora, Micah and I filled up tanks at the local dive shop. The guy there told us how to get to Kennedy Cove, which was supposed to be good for diving. He also informed us that if we wished to pick up some “honeys” he knew of a beach with plenty of babes. We told him thanks and left.

We all piled into the car and headed for the dive spot. They guy had told us it was “a little ways down the dirt road that turns off before the speed bumps.” We did manage to find the dirt road, but took a wrong turn and ended up at the city dump. Oops. We threw all our trash out the window and turned around to try a different road. The road went up over a hill and steeply down to the coast. The farther down the rough road I went, the steeper it got and the more ruts we ran into. It was kind of interesting, cuz the rougher the road got, the quieter the passengers became. Fortunately, my car lightened the mood by flapping the windshield wipers at random moments without my intervention. It seemed as if it had it’s own personality, so Katie affectionately named it Herbie. Every time the windshield wipers started from then on, she was certain it was because Herbie was excited or something. I think we were all excited as we rounded a hairpin curve on the narrow road without going over the edge. As we approached the rocky coastline it finally leveled off a bit. We got out and watched the surf pounding the rocks. It was an awesome place, but not exactly a good dive spot. So we decided to try a different road we had seen. That meant driving back up the steep road. I had everyone get out of the car, and I made a run for it. With Herbie’s tires spinning madly, his bottom scraping the rough rocky road, and the windshield wipers wildly waving, I barely made it to the top.

Still certain we could find a better spot, we tried another dirt road. It was a deceptive road that started out rather nice but was actually worse. I began to realize that getting back up was going to be a miracle. Of course, I realized that when I was right on the steepest part and there was no way to back up. I went down a little ways farther where there were a couple feet on either side of the road and attempted to turn around. Everyone else got out of the car first so they could watch if I fell of the cliff. Micah guided me as I did a sort of 3-point turn on the skinny road. It was pretty freaky backing up to the edge of a 100 foot cliff attempting to turn around on a road that was only slightly wider than the car. Once facing up hill, I made a run for it. Herbie crawled around the corner and partway up the rutty part, his tires spinning madly. Then he got to the point where his tires were making a nice dust storm but sliding down the hill. Herbie stopped halfway up, stuck in a rut. Thus I had to back down and try again. This time I got out and moved rocks out of the way first and picked out a path to take. With Micah running behind for moral support, and Herbie’s hands wildly waving, I sent the tires spinning and barely made it past the hard part and up the rest of the hill.

You would have thought we had learned our lesson by then, but there was one more road that we just had to go down. Fortunately, before we even got to the worst part of the third road we decided to turn around. The girls stayed in the car this time as I did another scary turn about. With a chorus of screams from the back, the car lurched toward the cliff and then forward. We made it to the top with Herbie enthusiastically waving in joy.

We decided to go back to the bay at the town and dive there. It wasn’t as nice as the other dive spot, but at least it was easier to get to. Micah and I went out first. The visibility was pretty bad. We did find some cool cowry shells that we managed to lose before getting back to shore. The sun streaming through the kelp forest above us was really cool. Next it was Katie’s turn. She got all suited up and used Micah’s gear. The hardest part of diving from the coast is getting through the surf. She bravely made it through that and we swam out a ways only to find she couldn’t sink. Her wetsuit was more buoyant that I had expected, and she didn’t have enough weight. Even with some of my weights she refused to sink. It’s kind of a bummer scuba diving if you can’t get under the water, so we had to go back through the surf to the shore. Since Christa had a one-piece wetsuit, we thought maybe by putting rocks in her BCs we might be able to get her to sink. But by then the surf was so bad that as she was trying to get out, she lost her weight belt. Foiled again. I promised they would get to go underwater some other time.

By that time we had run out of time, so we packed up and headed back towards the border. We stopped for some ice cream on the way. After getting lost in Tijuana, we made it to the border crossing only to wait. Saturday night is a very busy time at the border. Beggars and people selling souvenirs went from car to car as we waited for over an hour. When we finally got to the crossing, the guard asked us gruffly if we were American citizens and then let us go. We made it to Katie’s house at around 11pm and ended the trip with a relaxing time in the hot tub. After not showering for 3 days, it felt pretty good. Before heading for bed we raided her fridge for some supper, since we hadn’t really eaten any lunch or supper the whole day.

The next morning Katie’s mom made sure we didn’t leave until she fed us breakfast. She was really nice and felt so much better now that we had brought her daughter back safely.

We spent most of Sunday cleaning gear, washing the car, and unpacking stuff. Then we had to start thinking about school again…