See the introduction page, with my advice for anyone thinking of doing a similar trip, a list of the biggest challenges of the ride, cautions and our itinerary.

First, see Travelogue, Part One, before you read the page you are on now.

And then...

Thursday, March 12:

We started the day with breakfast and coffee in the restaurant and saying goodbye to the tremendously nice RV folks from Beaverton. It was, of course, pissing rain as we left Rice and Beans. I kept saying to Stefan, "You know, it rarely rains in Baja." He was still tolerating me.

We had wanted to ride into San Ignacio to have a look at the village - it's supposed to be a cute place. But in the rain, it hardly seemed worth it. So we pressed on to our next destination - whatever that might be. We stopped for gas before the mountains outside of Santa Rosalía, navigating a very large field of mud to get to the bathrooms, in pouring rain. I was so tired of the rain gear, and so tired of the rain, but I was thankful there wasn't wind. About five riders on very nice BMWs with big "Ruta 1" stickers on the front windshield pulled up for gas. I walked up and chatted a bit in my broken Spanish. They were Mexicans, and if the guy I talked to warned me about what was coming, I didn't understand it - the only thing I understood that there was some construction.

The road between San Ignacio and Santa Rosalía is twisty, going up into the mountains near the Santa Volcán las Tres Virgenes and then down to the coast. I don't know which three virgins they are referring to. I would love to have done that ride when it was NOT raining. There were quite a bit of rocks on the road, from slides caused by all the rain, but none we couldn't avoid. We passed two motorcyclists headed in the other direction and the woman on the back of one was waving her arms, trying to say more than just a hello, so I thought, hmmm, I wonder what she is warning me about. I thought a rock slide. We went down into the valley and were outside of Santa Rosalía when we crossed our first arroyo. It took up almost the entire road but we went far over to the right and avoided most of it. Stefan had warned me that the problem with arroyos is that you cannot see the road conditions underneath, and they are often hiding an ugly pot hole or more, or slippery slime, or big rocks. So I knew to use caution.

Then we came to the second arroyo. It was jaw-dropping. It was a raging river - you could see the current. There was absolutely NO way around it - later, we checked Google Maps and, indeed, there are NO alternate routes. This was a RIVER. The amount of water it was throwing up against wheels when someone dared to cross it was scary. Some people on the other side of the river were turning around and going back to Santa Rosalía. Did the motorcyclists we'd seen earlier, with the woman trying to warn me, come through this and ford it, or had they come to it from our direction and turned around?

Stefan walked out well into the raging waters and came back to say that the current was very troubling to him and he was worried about me crossing it. By then, a police car had appeared on the other side. But people were still slowly crossing, including people towing big caravans.

I suggested that we walk both bikes over it, one at a time, each of us on either side of the motorcycle. But Stefan decided he would drive his across, then walk back through and ride mine across - I would try to flag someone to drive me through it. There are no photos of Stefan riding through it because I was so scared, I was almost in tears, and the idea of pulling out my camera to film him just seemed callous if he fell: "Here's a video of my husband falling and losing his bike in a river in Mexico." I could see the current pushing against his feet and the bike, but he road his beloved Africa Twin over just fine. As he was parking the bike on the side of the road, he said the police officer came over the car's intercom, and he thinks he was telling people who were lining up to maybe or maybe not drive through to make up their minds. I couldn't hear anything over the raging waters. Ultimately, the cop left - thanks for your concern, dude! Then a motorcyclist came from the opposite direction, on Stefan's side, and Stefan talked to him a bit before he came through it to my side. He's Swiss and told me there were two or three more shallow arroyos, including one in the town, but that I should be able to do them just fine.

Stefan walked back through the river and rode my bike through it. And then I stood on the side of the road waiting for a car to come by to drive me over. The first didn't stop, but the second, a Mercedes camping van did - they were Americans. They opened the side door and I jumped in, sobbing wet, laying in the floor, riding with a confused child and dog. The driver asked if I would prefer to hang on the ladder outside for the crossing and I am still not sure if he was kidding or not. I almost fell out of the van in a bundle of wet plastic rain gear and rejoined Stefan, and we resumed our ride.

We came to another arroyo covering the road, a road which was no longer paved, and I rode through that myself. And I looked awesome doing it! Then we came back to pavement and went through another arroyo - again, not too bad. We stopped at a gas station to top off the gas tanks and I asked the person in the convenience store if there were any more arroyos. He said there was one huge one right in downtown, that it covered the entire road, and was in front of the gas station. But he said it wasn't deep. And he said all of this in Spanish, slowly, and I understood it! We road into Santa Rosalía and there was the arroyo - and it was freakin' MASSIVE. It took up the entire street and the sidewalks on either side, going right up against a building on one side and into the drive way of a gas station. I balked. There was no way around, at least not on the street. And then two boys on a four-wheeler motioned to Stefan, and we both understood: go up into the town, you can get around this. So we did.

I'm sorry that it was raining and that we didn't know more about Santa Rosalía, because it looked so interesting. It's not a resort town. It was once a company town, and it doesn't look like anything else at all in Baja - it's got beautiful wooden buildings and houses and is precariously perched on a hill. The French company El Boleo founded the town in 1884 and exploited copper mines there until they closed in 1954, and it still has a European feel to it. Apparently, old locomotives, mining equipment and machinery are visible everywhere. The whole town looks like it will slide into the gray, stormy sea someday after a good soaking. I would love to know more about it and even to have gotten to stay there.

A visit to Mulegé (pronounced Moo Lay Hey) was out: the entrance to the main street from Highway One was unpaved, and in the rain, an uphill sea of mud. I had no desire to see the lagoon, which was supposed to beautiful, in the rain. On person online had said, "The town just chills me out with the river walk, mission and little cafes and taco stand along the town square." Sounds great - when it's not raining. So we pushed on.

The land was still so beautiful to me. I was so sorry we weren't getting to stop and see more of it because of the rain, but otherwise, I was enjoying it. I wondered though if we were ever going to see a pretty Mexico community and experience something other than things on the side of the road.

We stopped one more time on the side of the road to pee, on a really intense slope I had trouble parking on, and the rain had stopped. We pressed on and were seeing the picturesque beaches of Baja down below the road for the first time. They were, indeed, beautiful - white sands and gorgeous blue water. We arrived in Loreto, drove into the town from the road, and started to look for some indication of where we should stay. We'd seen a sign for a hostel on a fence, but couldn't tell where the turnoff for it was. We were on the main drag, headed toward the sea, and passed the Hotel Plaza Loreto, which was on my list of suggested places to stay. We continued down the main drag and stopped in front of the offices for Mex Rent A Car. We turned off our engines so we could talk about what we wanted to do. We decided we would go back and try to find the hostel. I turned my key - and there was just a low electrical whir, but no engine ignition at all.

Shit.

I stayed remarkably calm. I just thought, well, at least we're in a town and this didn't happen at the last stop. Stefan went back to find the Hostal Casas Loreto, and after riding down a pedestrian street and getting a warning from a police officer, he found it - and it was full. So he came back and I said we should just stay at the Hotel Plaza, just a few blocks away, and we could push the bike there. He rode back to get a room.

While Stefan was coming and going, I went into Mex Rent A Car and asked if there was a motorcycle mechanic in town. The young guy working at the front desk said he didn't know of anyone. But then two older guys walked out of the office and started asking me questions about the motorcycle. They thought the problem was the battery. After some back and forth, one of the guys, the mechanic for Mex Rent A Car, said that he knew of a mechanic - Omar. Stefan came back and said he'd gotten us a room, and the guys said they would send Omar to us in about 90 minutes. Stefan thought I could push the bike by myself down the road, but I couldn't. Suddenly, there were two English speaking guys there helping me. They were originally from Australia and had been watching the whole drama from a patio. They were leaving later that day. One said he's a former motorcycle racer and that his picture is up at Rice and Beans somewhere. I am so sorry I couldn't thank them by buying them a drink.

We pushed the bike around the corner from the Hotel Plaza Loreto - the entrance for the parking lot is in the back, and it's completely secure - there is only one entrance, and it's locked, and it has a covered parking section for motorcycles, I still wasn't upset - somewhat anxious and nervous, but largely okay. I was just so grateful this had happened in Loreto. I went into the lobby to finish checking in, and the receptionish asked for an ID. I opened my wallet to get my driver's license - and it wasn't there. I looked for a while in my purse, I assumed I just couldn't find it, and Stefan walked up and I told him he would have to give his license, that I would find mine later. 

We unpacked and went out for a quick bite. We went to Mike's restaurant, on the next block, on the second story of the building. The waiter - not sure if it was Mike or not - was lively and funny, and served us a quick supper. We went back to the hotel and as we walked through the lobby, there was a young man - a kid, really - there asking the front desk if there was someone there with motorcycle trouble. She pointed at us. And just 5 minutes after we were in our room, there was a knock at the door, and it was Omar.

He said his shop was just around the corner, "one block away", but that he needed to put it on his trailer. Stefan was super nervous about it, and that made me super nervous. But Omar's truck was really nice and he and his guy loaded the bike like the pros that they are. We got into the truck with Omar and he drove us about four blocks down the street, then about two blocks in on that street - and there was his shop. He directed his guys to roll out the very nice four wheeler that was in the shop into the street and then directed his guys to clean up, and they snapped to it with brooms and the air pump. Then they guys rolled my bike into the shop. Omar got to work immediately trying to figure out the issue, removing and cleaning the starter and then testing the battery. He was directing his staff to do this and that and I was so impressed. I could understand a bit of what they were saying, and it was never anything derogatory or inappropriate - it was about the bike, about equipment, about trouble shooting. Or about my Smokey the Bear sticker on my top case. I was trying to understand both the Spanish and the mechanics, but I was getting lost. Stefan, knowing so much about motorcycles, was following far better than me.

Omar has two dogs that are so beyond sweet and adored me, of course. But the real boss of the shop is the cat. She would get right between the bike and everyone else - here she is at Stefan's feet, wondering why everyone is looking at the motorcycle and not her. She's very young and very pregnant - Omar assures me he'll get her fixed after the kittens come. She demanded to be held by every person in that shop, and they did, including me - but not Stefan. At one point, when one of the shop guys was holding her, she saw a lizard on the wall, and the guys took out a little ladder so she could shoot up it and try to get it (she didn't).

By the end of the night, Omar said that he thought the battery was fried - it would not charge - and he had asked if we had been in a lot of water. He said he had smelled something burning in the front of the bike and he suspected there was a fried wire as well. He assured us my motorcycle would be fine, and we should come back the next day to talk about next steps. And so we walked away. We hadn't discussed anything like price.

We went back to the room, updated social media so everyone knew what was happening, and then wondered what to do. If he could fix the bike, great. We had wanted to stay in Loreto at least two nights on the way back, so this wouldn't throw us off - it just meant we were staying in Loreto an extra night now, not then. But if he needed to order a part, that meant waiting for the part - at least a week. There is an Auto Zone in town, and we hoped whatever he thought he might need could be bought there. At one point, I started talking about worst case scenarios: I could stay in Loreto and Stefan could ride back to the USA alone and I could follow later. Or we could do it two up, leaving the bike in Loreto and I would fly down for it later. What if I had to leave the bike and sell it? I almost started crying at this idea.

I took an allergy pill, a Walgreens Wal-Zyr Allergy Tablet, to help me sleep. And I did, indeed, sleep. I think I was still in denial about what was happening.

Friday, March 13 & Saturday, March 14:

The next day, we walked around Loreto. It is absolutely lovely. Despite the reason we were killing time in Loreto, I was charmed. I loved this beautiful town. I wish I could have enjoyed that day off more. I wish I had said, "Hey, there's nothing we can do, let's book a kayak." Or get a boat to take us out to an island. The town was far from capacity - we could have booked something right away and gone out and done it, no problem. But we were tense. All the various worst-case scenarios regarding what might happen because of my bike were rolling through out heads. We were too worried to enjoy anything.

Omar had told us to walk down to his shop at around 2, and we did - but he was taking an siesta and hadn't worked on the bike. We went back later and Omar said, absolutely, it was the battery. He had us walk to Ferremar de Loreto (Calle Benito Juarez 75), a boating and fishing supply store, to get a new battery. We got lost and so, of course, I asked at PEMEX, because I knew they would be helpful and, yes, as always, they were. Ferremar de Loreto didn't have exactly the one we needed out front, and after some discussion where Stefan was saying either of two that weren't quite right could probably still work with some adaptations, the shop guy went to the back and found us exactly the right one. He seemed really, really committed to getting us what we really needed, and we so appreciated that. That's how pretty much everyone was in Baja, in fact.

We carried both my old battery and the new battery back to Omar's to get it installed. I was thinking as we lugged those heavy batteries - the new one and my old one that Stefan had brought along with us to the store - that this is part of a motorcycle adventure, this is a part of it all, just like sitting somewhere pretty and looking at the water. And it's what I always sign up for, and I'm good with it. Part of what I enjoy on a trip are these moments well off the beaten path, meeting local people, not just in a tourist setting.

When we stopped by the shop in the evening to get the bike, Omar said he had also worked on the wire that he said made contact with metal and, because of all the water we had experienced, had shorted out the wire. Stefan paid him his VERY reasonable rate in cash, with a tip (seriously, he did not overcharge AT ALL), Omar helped me to roll my "RR" in "arroyo," and I said my goodbye to the dogs, but not the cat - she was probably in the house, enjoying her own siesta.

Stefan decided that we would not leave Loreto the next day - instead, we'd spend another night in Loreto, and spend the next day doing to San Javier Mission, a particularly picturesque mission a few miles out of town. That way, we could test the KLR and make sure that, absolutely, it was working properly. And that's what we did the next day. The ride was gorgeous. Omar had warned us there would probably be arroyos and that they could be deep and dangerous. Indeed, there were two, but they were fine. We also some some bicyclists out enjoying the hilly, curvy road as well.

The San Francisco Javier mission is beautiful. The main drive up to the mission is grand and there are little restaurants alongside it. I think there must be a fair number of people there when tourist season is in full gear and there isn't a virus spreading like wildfire amid the population that usually visits. San Francisco Javier mission was founded by Jesuits of the Roman Catholic church in 1699 with the objective to convert the local Cochimí Native Americans (Indians) to Christianity. Like everywhere, the concentration of the population at the mission facilitated the spread of European diseases, such as smallpox and measles, killing off the native population. That was NOT lost on me at this moment, believe me. The mission had a population of 482 in 1768. The Cochimí became extinct as a culture and identifiable people and by 1817, the mission was deserted. The church has been restored and is now maintained by Mexico's National Institute of Anthropology and History. The village of San Javier at the site of the former mission had a population of 131 in 2010. Several introduced plant species continue to exist or to be grown at the mission: date palms, grapes, citrus, and, notably, ancient olive trees.

We walked around one side courtyard, then went inside and I had a chat with the caretaker who asked us to sign the registry - very nice man. I asked him why there were women all around the mission wearing white blouses and blue skirts. He said it was a saint's day and they were a women's group that celebrated such with a special luncheon. Yes, I had this conversation in Spanish - I wasn't great, but I was glad for the minimal I could say and understand. Then we walked to the other side courtyard and out into the back of the mission. We saw a sign there for a campground next door: Huerta el Olivar.

Amid the lush oasis was this banana tree. We saw banana trees in Cuba, but never up close, and not with actual bananas on them, at least that we could see. The banana tree had this massive flower, which we both mistook at the time for just a flower bud. It looked kinda obscene...

We stopped at the nearest restaurant for drinks. I broke down and had the first Coca Cola that I had had in years. I gave up Coke for a whole host of reasons: my weight, what I felt like it was doing to my stomach, the company's use of water and its killing of small drink producers and on and on. But, geesh, it's freakin' delicious and it was hot and I WAS ON VACATION. Plus, they were selling it in little glass bottles like what I grew up with, and my Mom long ago convinced me Coke is better in a small bottle. Also, the restaurant had this GIANT BOTTLE OF HAND SANITIZER on the counter. The NesCafe canister on the counter was the size of a beer can.

I wish I had a video of us riding away from San Janier mission. It would have been so beautiful. The ride back to Loreto was beautiful and the bike was performing perfectly.

That short ride to the mission and back wiped me out. I was way, way more tired than I should have been after such a short ride, even if it was hot. The stress had gotten to me - now that we knew the bike was okay, the tension was gone, but it had exhausted me. So we took our only siesta of the trip. It was late afternoon. Stefan had, at last, heard the rattle on my motorcycle I've talked about for two years, and said it was some chain inside my engine. So he rode my bike over to Omar's while I rested, had Omar drill a hole in my engine plate so Stefan could get to what he needed to get to, and he adjusted it somehow. It might have been magic for all I know - I just don't understand anything about engines.

While Stefan was there, he confirmed something I had said earlier - that there was a guy on Omar's street dealing. I saw the standing there while we had been there earlier for my bike, and had watched people continually walk up to him for a few seconds and then walk away. I'm not judging - we have a nuisance house three doors down from where I live on one block here where I live in Oregon, three houses down on the other street (I live on a corner), and I have seen deals in the church playground across the street, all right here in a historic, "all-American" neighborhood. It's freakin' EVERYWHERE.

Then we went out for dinner, walking all the way to the malecon and eating at a seafood restaurant. It was so nice to sit and look out on the water, drinking red wine from Estanada, wondering what the Obamas had done when they were in Loreto the previous month. But the restaurant was empty except for one other table. We were still in high season, but there were no crowds. We knew travel plans were being cancelled by foreigners, more and more every day.

We went back to the room and I got lost watching "Inherit the Wind" on TV - subtitled in Spanish. I was SO HAPPY to see that movie being shown in Mexico. Stefan recalled that I hadn't had my license at check in and that I should probably find it. So, I started looking for it. I completely emptied my purse and the pockets on my jacket. And it wasn't there. I had lost my driver's license. Had I used it to check in at the hourly hotel in Ensenada? Or the Old Mill? Or Rice and Beans? Was it still at one of those places? Had I dropped it somewhere? There was nothing for us to do about it except hope I didn't get pulled over between now and when we were back in the USA (I was relatively sure that if I got pulled over in the USA I wouldn't get ticketed, given the circumstances).

We'd been in Mexico for almost a week, and one of our many observations was how we weren't seeing nearly the amount of trash on the sides of roads that we were expecting. It was no where near Eastern European levels. Not even close. Heck, it wasn't at early 1970s USA levels. Yes, there was trash there, but not anywhere in the amounts I was expecting. We also regularly saw Mexicans working on the sides of road, cutting back foliage, improving drainage, and, yes, picking up trash. Very impressive.

I realize now just how good we had it at the Hotel Plaza Loreto: it was affordable, the room was clean, with excellent Internet, and the staff was nice. And breakfast was included, with omelettes made to order out in the courtyard. It was a really nice place to do motorcycle maintenance on the bikes as well. Like all hotels in Baja, it's as quiet as the guests, and we were lucky that, for all but one night we were there, the other guests were quiet. Also like all hotels in Baja, you have to ask for hangers. Added bonus: a big thorny tree in the courtyard.

Loreto is a popular town with Mexicans from the mainland, Mexicans and foreigners living Cabo that need a break from Cabo, and rich Americans living in a private community nearby. But what I loved about it, in addition to how pretty and small it is, is that most of the people we talked with were Mexicans from Loreto, proud of their charming city and happy to help out.

And I realized on the trip, yet again, just how much I love my KLR, and I was so pleased it was working so well again, like normal. I am absolutely comfortable on it for this entire trip and it handles so well. There are times when I come to a challenging section of road and think, "Just trust the bike, it  knows what it's doing, it's built for this." I know that KLRs are called "thumpers" and a lot of people think they vibrate too much. I am not at all bothered by any vibration when I'm riding. It only bothers me later in the day after a long ride, if I have ridden on asphalt for hours on end and don't take any long breaks on the ride: at the end of such a day, my eyesight seems a bit off, and I have some trouble focusing as well as I usually do. But I so rarely ride that way - we usually take lots of breaks during a ride, to walk around, explore, etc. I absolutely could ride my KLR around the world - but I don't want to, because that would mean leaving my dog and I just can't do that.

I also want to note that Stefan would not buy me this string of rubber chicken lights. They are possibly the greatest thing that's ever been created and he refused to buy them.

The next day, we would head farther South, to Todos Santos.

Sunday, March 15:

We left Loreto with full confidence in my KLR. I was feeling absolutely fine about it and, spoiler alert: it did fine for the rest of the trip. We had about 260 miles / 430 kms to go on that day - I consider that a long day of riding.

We were headed to Todos Santos. Our plan: stay there, the next day drive to Cabo and up the Eastern Side of the tip of the peninsula, and then back to La Paz for the next night.

We chose Todos Santos as an overnight destination because of some things I read online about the city being picturesque and per the suggestion of Omar, our savior motorcycle mechanic in Loreto. He said we wouldn't like Cabo - and we already knew we wouldn't. He isn't all that fond of La Paz either. He said there are a lot of auto and motorcycle accidents in both cities and they are too noisy.

The area immediately South of Loreto is beautiful, hilly and twisty. There are exclusive, hidden communities for very well-off people - I'm sure mostly foreigners from the USA and Canada - all along the coast, unseen from the road except for a couple of golf courses and their yachts in nearby harbors, like Tripuí and Danzante Bay. But once you get out of the mountains, the ride to La Paz is straight and boring, the most boring of our entire trip in Mexico. On this road, we came to our first police check - different from a military check point because of who is doing it - and my heart dropped. I had no driver's license. But, hurrah, they not only waved us through, the officer gave me a "thumbs up" sign as I passed.

Note the white object on the side of the road. It's a roadside memorial to someone who died there in a vehicle accident. Most were like this on in the photo - very simple. Some were elaborate sculptures, at least three meters high, and some were entire chapels, some two stories tall. One could do an entire photo study of these roadside memorials. I would guess that they are decorated every year for Day of the Dead and that must be fascinating to see.

I was to the point that I could almost predict when we would see other motorcycle travelers coming from the other directions: because cities are 100-200 miles or more apart in Baja California, and most motorcyclists leave to head somewhere else between 8 and 10, you won't see any, usually, the first hour you leave a town, but after that, they will start showing up on the road going in the opposite direction. Most are in pairs or are in groups, though we did sometimes see a lone motorcycle traveler. I cannot imagine doing the ride alone. I can't believe that Stefan used to do that all. But now, we weren't seeing groups anymore, at least not more than three or four bikes together.

I was surprised at how large Ciudad Constitución is - almost 50,000 people. It's not at all a tourist town, but it looks like a full service city.

I want to note that we regularly saw the buses of Autotransportes Águila, a bus line which covers all the length of the Baja California Peninsula, mainly along Ruta Uno. I checked online and found you could ride one way from Ensenada to Cabo for less than $125. Not that anyone would want to ride all the way down in one continuous trip, but I am betting it would be relatively easy to take a bus from town to town, staying a night or two in different cities, and see even more of Baja than we did, in a very affordable way, car-less. And if the bus is like the bus between Puebla and Mexico City on the mainland, then it includes Internet access, comfy seats and maybe even a movie, depending on how long the trip is.

I also want to note that we did see at least two bicycle travelers on Highway 1. There may have been a third, but we're not sure if she was a traveler or just a free spirit that lives in Mexico and travels around pulling her homemade trailer behind her bike, maybe selling stuff out of it.

Just outside of La Paz, there are some twisties, and I went through a swarm of bugs right at eye level, all hitting my helmet with several thunks and thoroughly grossing me out. It was yet another reminder of the benefits of wearing a motorcycle helmet.

Driving through La Paz on the way to Todos Santos gives you no indication whatsoever of how pretty other parts of La Paz can be. So don't judge La Paz based on just seeing it as you drive-through. As we drove through La Paz, we saw a few motorcycle travelers here and there, on the side of the road, getting gas or eating. As we had not had any socializing with other bikers, I wanted so much to pull over and ask them all where they were staying, where they were going, etc.

We ended up in Todos Santos and, as usual, got frustrated early on trying to find a hotel. The town is on a hill, and that doesn't make it easy to navigate, at least not for me. We drove down the main street, passed the Hotel California, a hotel notorious for being very expensive and trying to pretend it inspired the Eagles song of the same name (it didn't). It's an attractive town, truly, packed with art and art galleries and nice-looking restaurants. It's quaint, no question. But the hotels are PRICEY. We saw a sign for a hostel and headed to it, off the paved road onto a massive hard packed, wide dirt road. The hostel looked fine, but it was so far from the downtown, where food and drinks were, and a tent - very large - was just half the price of a hotel, wouldn't protect us from noise (and two guests walking in with beer told us that, indeed, it is NOISY) and I didn't feel like sleeping in a dorm. I wasn't feeling that social, in fact - I usually am. For just one night, it didn't really seem worth it. So we road back out the dirt road to look some more.

We eventually ended up at the Hotel Casa Tota. It's in a building that looks like a converted warehouse and has gone the boutique hotel route . It was twice a much as the hostel, but we had a private room, our own bathroom, a TV, we were near enough to walk through the scenic downtown - for one night, yes, THAT was worth it. It was the most expensive hotel we stayed in for our entire trip in Mexico, but it was worth it. I just wish it had been warm enough to swim in the pool (Stefan gave it a go). We parked the bikes on the side of the building and covered them. The side and back areas were fenced on all sides except the entrance. There was no gate, but we felt comfortable parking the bikes there. We have locks we put around the wheel and forks, we use the wheel lock, and we cover them just to make it harder for someone to check out what's underneath. You couldn't see them at all from the street.

Did I mention what a cute town Todos Santos is? I loved the street art right across from our hotel. One of the blogs I read said about it: "Imagine a mix of sleepy Mexican village and chic Southern California boutique hotel, where dusty roads and charming cobblestone share the same block." That's a good description. We saw a LOT of well-off Mexicans and American artsy types enjoying the boutique, high-end, laid back vibe feel of the town. I couldn't imagine spending two nights here though, unless I was a surfer. Still, I was glad we stayed here instead of Cabo.

I also fell in love with this little car, Suzuki Ignis. It's a compact four-door, has a raised ride height and is a manual transmission - and online, says that it has an option of four-wheel drive. That means it meets all of our requirements for a four-wheel drive - and, of course, it's not sold here in the USA. One online review of the 2017 model said, "Cheeky, cute, retro: three words we’d use to describe the reborn Suzuki Ignis. In fact, the Ignis has so much personality, we’re reluctant to be negative for fear of hurting its feelings." Jayne really wants this car.

We had a good meal at the Crazy Chicken a few blocks from our hotel. It's not in one of the chic parts of town, but I was in the mood for eating in a small place, and this was just what I wanted. I had a chicken breast that was smothered in some kind of pumpkin and chili sauce - it was VERY good. And I once again tried out my Spanish language skills. Pathetic. I can nail the initial conversation phrases and sound great - but as soon as we move on to something other than who I am, where I'm from, where I live and where I've been, things get... confusing.

We saw many dozens of motorcycles gathered at La Catrina, a restaurant, and many were gassing up at the PEMEX station across from the Crazy Chicken while we were eating, and they were wearing club vests. We decided to walk by later on our way back to our hotel, and by then, all the motorcycles were gone and all was quiet.

We walked back up Heroico Colegio Militar, got followed by a laid back dog I really wanted to bring home (though I'm sure he belonged to someone), bought a six pack and went back to our room. I was really tired - riding more than 200 miles in one day does that to me.

Monday, March 16:

I proclaimed we were going to have a chic, fabulous breakfast in Todos Santos because, dammit, we're on vacation! And I did. And so did Stefan. We ate at the hotel. We also spent the morning watching a World Health Organization briefing on COVID19. In contrast to the US Presidential briefings, WHO was talking about the vital importance of testing, of constant hand washing, of coughing into your elbow - and being really urgent about what was going on. After we were back from this Baja trip, I found this timeline by Klamath County (Oregon) Public Health and it's a really good example of what was being said at the time, what we were hearing when we had access to a TV.

Meanwhile, back in Todos Santos.... we were back out on the road after breakfast: we were going to Cabo San Lucas. I wore my t-shirt from Dawson Creek, British Columbia, Canada, to represent how proud I was that, by the time this trip is over, I could say I had ridden all the way from Cabo San Lucas to Watson Lake, The Yukon.

Riding into Cabo, we ended up going through a little neighborhood that actually looked quite nice: small, tall buildings and houses instead of big beach hotels, little cafés, etc. I wasn't expecting that. If I had to be in Cabo, I would love an Air B & B rental in such a neighborhood - much more my speed. Stefan somehow figured out a road that got us right to the waterfront, without having to pay for parking and that wasn't owned by a hotel. We were at a public beach for locals: Cannery Beach (Playa Empacadora), behind the marina. A man approached us and I thought for sure he was going to tell us we had to move. Instead, he said we could park over on the sidewalk. We walked out onto the rocks put there to preserve the shoreline and a guy took our photo - we later saw him and his party out on a yacht headed out to sea.

The sea at Cabo San Lucas is beautiful, but it's just not my kind of place: too many massive hotels, endless restaurants and party bars, endless shops selling little knick knacks... if you dig that, that's fine, I'm just saying it's not my cup of tea. I don't like anywhere where most of the beaches are private, which is why I never went to a beach in Connecticut when I lived in Hartford (I would drive all the way to Rhode Island if I felt the need for a beach, which was rare).

We watched touring boats going in and out to go out to view El Arco de Cabo San Lucas (Land's End), some feeding sea lions as they returned. That natural landmark is usually packed with boats, and I really had no desire to see it that way. I think probably the best way to see it is to rent a kayak and join a tour and go out before 9 a.m. And that wasn't a priority for us.

We headed back up the Eastern Road of the tip of the peninsula, stopping at a rare overlook and going through San Jose de Cabo and Los Barriles, which are beautiful, and saw lots of other little settlements which looked nice. I'm sure so many settlements we saw were made up primarily of USA and Canadian citizens. We also saw signs pointing to the left, away from the coast, for swimming - I guess there are natural swimming holes somewhere out there. It is kind of a lush area, at times, very tropical. It was lovely.

We went through El Triunfo, away from the coast, and it looked intriguing - it was obviously a historic town with some sites for touritsts. Later, I found that El Triunfo is a well best-preserved 19th century mining community and remains an important site for archaeological research. In 1862, silver and gold were discovered near here, resulting in El Triunfo once being the largest city in Baja California Sur. In its heyday the town was a cultural center and was the first town in the region to install electricity and telephones. Pianos and other instruments were brought to El Triunfo from around the world and a piano museum still exists here. Many of the original buildings have been restored and converted into restaurants, museums, boutiques and other locations. Had we known, we absolutely would have made a point to see more of it - we LOVE historic towns.

Back in La Paz, we did our usual confusing-and-frustrating-time of trying-to-find-our-hotel. As with Ensenda, I had picked out a hotel already and had an address - we just needed to find it. We were on the maricon, the waterfront, and could only turn right from any road leading to it. We did and knew we were going in the wrong direction for the hotel. I am so grateful the police we made a U-Turn in front of didn't pull us over, since I no longer had a driver's license.

At last, we the found the Hotel Posada LunaSol, which I had picked because of reviews on Trip Advisor. It was a very good hotel: Secure parking - very important for motorcycle riders - a huge kitchen open to guests, a little shared covered terrace, comfy clean bed, friendly staff, clean and colorful and attractive and not right on the beachfront (less noisy). It was a good combination of being a boutique hotel and being affordable - and affordability is a rarity in any beach town. They have a really nice area for guests to have breakfast, and the breakfast, included, was delicious. The pool looks terrific but it was too cold to swim. And from the hotel, it's a super easy walk to the boardwalk. I wish we could have stayed another night and taken advantage of their kayaking tours. If I ever go back to La Paz, I absolutely am staying here.

We were very warm, so it was a pleasure to strip off our gear and change. I wore my "hiking" dress for our night on the town. It makes me feel more like I'm on vacation when we're walking around somewhere beautiful. It's a dress that's really easy to wash in a sink and dries quickly. 

We walked outside the hotel and immediately saw Bandido's, and we decided to not have to even think about where to eat and just go there, the first place we'd seen. We were not disappointed. I had loved loved loved all the fish and seafood I had had, but I was ready for beef, and Bandido's is the place for that, namely, burgers. They were DAMN good, cooked on a grill inside the hood of a vintage car. They had a fruity margerita which I liked very much, but Stefan didn't.

Then we walked out onto the malecon. There were a lot of people, but it wasn't crowded. Most of the people out walking were locals, and most were young. There were lots of joggers, including women, and lots of teens just being teenagers. There were a few sculptures out on the boardwalk, which I always like (I'm a fan of public art). I felt obligated to pose with one, of course.

We walked back to the hotel and hung out on the terrace, listening to the noises of the city, drinking beer and looking up info on the Internet. And the noises were LOUD - La Paz is a loud city at night. It was kind of cool hearing some fitness guy yelling numbers in English from a gym nearby. It was not cool hearing a siren for about an hour not too far away. But that's a big beach city for ya.

That night, I saw that the US State Department had a new update for citizens in Mexico:

In response to the global pandemic COVID-19, and in line with the Mexican government’s call to increase social distancing, the U.S. Embassy in Mexico City and all U.S. consulates in Mexico will suspend routine immigrant and nonimmigrant visa services starting March 18, 2020, and until further notice. The U.S. Embassy and consulates will continue to provide essential consular services to U.S. citizens as well as emergency visa services.

But the security warning for the country was the same - Level 2 - just like always, and so we were going to continue our trip as planned. It was weird to spend so much time on the Internet on a motorcycle vacation - we usually avoid doing that at all costs, and I usually prefer reading when we have down time, rather than being online. But getting these updates was important, and Internet access was so excellent everywhere we stayed except San Ignacio.

COVID19 still wasn't worrying me... but something else was. I got hit with an ugly anxiety attack. It's a feeling of impending doom. It's awful. And there's no reason behind it. I sometimes just get overwhelmed with a horrible feeling of dread. And, no, I'm not writing this because it shows that I anticipated something horrible happening on this trip because, spoiler alert, nothing particularly horrible happened on this trip - we had a great time and got back to Oregon just fine. I assume these anxiety attacks are a combination of me not being able to get used to unemployment and the biological changes I'm going through at 54. But enough about that for now...

Tuesday, March 17:

I would love to have stayed in La Paz two nights. Stefan floated the idea, so that we could finally float out on the sea, but the weather was turning bad in La Paz that day. After a delicious breakfast, it was another all-day ride, back to Loreto. We met a guy at a gas station, on a V-Strom, who was also headed to Loreto and said he had been on a ferry from the mainland to La Paz, and it had taken 11 hours and that there had been a party all night and he was severely sleep-deprived. We never saw him back in Loreto - hope he's well.

For some reason, it was prettier going back than coming down, especially just before Loreto, although there was some kind of butterfly migration going on and I killed many and that made me sad. But what made me happy: a woman driving a replica of Herbie the Love Bug in the opposite direction! I squealed!!! I wonder if any of these people were the driver... I wonder what military checkpoints do when she comes driving through.

There's a terrific overlook just before Loreto, coming from the South. We did not buy any coconut juice for sale in the food cart nearby - neither of us are fans. 

Once we were back in the town of Loreto, I realized it is my very favorite place in all of Baja. But I bet I wouldn't like it as much packed with tourists. One night when we were walking around, there was someone standing in the main plaza playing 1970s rock and roll covers - not at ALL what I want to hear in a picturesque Mexican town.

We checked back into Hotel Plaza Loreto - they had plenty of rooms. Stefan did some maintenance on the motorcycles that he does on every long trip: he checks the oil on both bikes, adds some as needed, checks the chain tension on each bike and adjusts it as needed. The Loreto Hotel covered parking lot is a great place to do that. I ask the same questions every time - I want so badly to understand what he's doing, but there's no way I could do it.

Then I changed into my "hiking" dress again and we went for a light supper at Asadero Jalisco, a small taco bar near the Hotel Plaza Loreto. It was one of the cheapest meals we had in Baja - and one of the best: simple tacos, with delicious sauces. The women putting together the tacos were working nonstop as the phone rang off the hook and they took orders to go.

We checked out some Loreto hotels online that we had seen from the street and looked intriguing. Around the corner from Mezzaluna is the La Damiana Inn, an adorable, colorful, small boutique hotel. The online reviews for it were amazing. It's more expensive than where we stayed, but looks like quite the "experience." It has an enclosed, secure patio for parking, so it would be good for motorcycles.

We had also noticed Hotel Posada de las Flores on the plaza, which looked like one of the upscale boutique hotels we'd seen in Havana back in 2016. This hotel was beautiful on the outside and from what we could see inside from the street. But, according to the Internet, well out of our price range.

We didn't try for the Hostal Casas Loreto on our return to Loreto, supposing it was full - and it was, which we saw when we walked by. It's near the plaza and it looks very much like "our" kind of place. But because of the price and location, you will most likely need a reservation well in advance to stay here. Not sure what their situation is for motorcycle parking.

I really wanted to stay in Loreto one more day and go kayaking, or just go out on a boat and be on the water. But the forecast was for rain - a lot of rain, in fact. So there was no reason to stay.

We were also continuing to check the news every day. When we left the US, the State Department travel advisory for Mexico was at Level 2: "Exercise Increased Caution." But that's what it is all the time - it hadn't changed per COVID19. And that's what it still was, every day that we had checked here. In fact, here's a screen capture of the updates they sent out while we were on our trip, and before and after:

So, we were still not in a hurry to get back to the USA because, as of March 17, we still weren't seeing anything official that made us think we needed to return to the USA. You can see the moment that changed on this screen capture, on March 19. But it wasn't March 19 - it was March 17, and Facebook posts from friends were OUT OF CONTROL with misinformation, and as I write this blog, I'm still VERY angry about that. I had people posting on my account and IMing me telling me that the border was closed, that it was about to close and we wouldn't be let back in, that Mexico was about to "shut down", that California was stopping people on the roads and not letting them travel, and on and on. NONE of it was true then and none of it is true NOW, as I write this blog! All this "advice" people were sharing rarely had references or links, and if it did, and I went to read the article, it turned out the person had misinterpreted the information entirely. Nothing that was being posted by friends was helpful, not ONE thing - I would read a warning, then frantically go look it up, and find out it wasn't true. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and angry and I felt really, really let down by people that I thought knew better.

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