The worst piece of road on earth!
Back to it. So, you’ll remember in my last Baja post I was headed South with a ragtag group of friends, no experience, and a ton of hope. We rolled into Ensenada and found my friends. It was late at night and we were getting up at 6:30 am to pre-run. I still needed to jet my loaner bike so I pulled it out and swapped some brass. While I am fiddling with my bike, Bob comes up with this woman and says “Morgan, this is Anna Cody. She is soloing this year's race too.” Whoa! “Hi Anna, how’s it going?” We talked for a little while and it became very clear that she knew what was going on and I didn’t. I was honestly completely lost and out of my element but I LOVE that feeling. I absolutely thrive on feeling out of control and being in new situations. I know a lot of people clam up and get nervous but I come alive. I guess I am a textbook extrovert. My batteries recharge when I am with lots of people and especially people I don’t know yet.
I got approximately 1 hour of sleep that night. I was so excited to be in Mexico getting ready to ride dirt bikes. It was like being 6 years old on Christmas eve. The next morning I suited up and fired the little 400 up. We were headed to Bay of L. A. for the night and we had a ways to go. Baja is a magical place for dirt bike riders. Even if you are like I was and you’re brand new to the sport, something special happens when you throw a leg over your bike and head out into that desert wilderness. As you fly out over those dirt roads the same dust that Malcolm Smith and Johnny Campbell stirred up coats your bike and goggles and something happens. I can’t truly describe it but it is amazing. We rolled into San Felipe and Bob told Anna and me to fill up our bikes and load another couple gallons of gas on our backs because the gas station in Gonzaga probably didn’t have any gas. Huh?? I didn’t have any other way of carrying gas. In classic Wadlow fashion, Bob searched the streets and found a couple old gallon jugs that had once held antifreeze and handed them to me. I filled them up and slid them into my backpack. All of a sudden I had another 16 lbs on my back and it was Pemex fuel.
We rolled out of San Felipe and headed South. The road was nice for a while then Bob pulled out in front of us and motioned us to stop. “Alright, you guys go on this way, I am headed out to the paved road and I’ll meet you where this one hits the highway. It’s about 30 miles. "Have fun,” he said with a smug look on his face. “Ok, what’s up? Why aren’t you riding this way with us?” I replied. He smiled and told us that he would never ride the Old Puertocitas road again. As we rolled out I couldn’t really figure out why but then it became painfully clear. The old Puertocitas road is quite possibly the most hateful 30 miles of desert road in the world. It is 30 miles of continuous whoops. And not nice mellow sand whoops that you can find a rhythm in. No, no, no. It is 30 miles of rock, sand, gravel and packed dirt whoops that were created but buggies and trucks. They are the size of Volkswagens and spaced in such a way that they try to remove you from your bike every 3rd of 4th one. On top of the SWEET terrain, my extra gas was leaking out of the jugs and coating my back with Mexican fuel. A few miles in I was able to dump one of the cans into my bike to reduce the weight and amount of gas pouring onto my back. At the end of the torture, we hit the pavement and there was Bob. He was smiling and laughing at us. I dumped the remaining gas into my bike and tried to dry my back and backpack off a bit before going on down the road.
Our next stop was Coco’s corner. If you don’t know who Coco is then you should google it. Coco is a legend in Baja and even had an entire segment of Dust To Glory. I won’t go deep into our stop but it was way cool to see Coco and even cooler that my friend Bob knew him well and was able to introduce us to him. After a beer and some great stories, we headed towards El Crucero and eventually Bay of L.A. We finished the first day in the dark and I realized quickly that the headlight on my pre-run bike was woefully lacking. “No big deal,” I thought. I wasn’t going to be out at night on this bike much so it shouldn’t cause a problem right???
Thanks for tuning in again. I really hope you are enjoying this journey. If you aren’t a motorcycle person don’t worry. The story centers around bikes but it is about being a human in the end so stick with me. If you are a dirt bike person then don’t worry either. There are more great bike stories to come. If you feel so inclined, share this thing or give it a like.
What are your goals for 2018? I would love to hear them. Either comment below or shoot me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org
Also, don't forget to write down what you are grateful for today! Mine three things are Coffee, Christmas with my family and a computer that works well!
Who wants to ride Peach after work. I gotta go!!!!