Baja=road kill heaven

Dogs, horses, cows, cats and large green lizards seem to be far more street wise in southern Baja. I have come to this conclusion after becoming what I feel as somewhat a wealth of knowledge regarding Mexican road kill.
I left San Diego 8 days ago with my friend Tim, whom I met whilst learning how to fly. We both rolled up to the border at Tijuana feeling quite relieved to finally be moving on from the USA. The border process was a bit of a joke. We somehow managed to end up in Mexico without even trying so had to be let back in though a big steel gate to try and find a US immigration man to stamp us out of their country. Though finally I didn't have to call the immigration man 'sir' 400 times before he would process me as I promptly informed him I was trying to get out of his country not into it. So we went back to Mexico to get us and the bikes imported.... What a ridiculous system! Most people would assume you would get this process done at the border, but no, in Mexico you need to drive about 1 mile past the border to an un-signposted place in a back street where of course, its so obvious... this is where you get all the stamps. Lucky for us the immigration man who was armed with a very undernourished attack dog took pity on us and told us where to go. I felt slightly disappointed the attack dog didn't go for my lower back, as its toothless old chops looked like it would have given a great massage, but instead it just sat there drooling and eying up every potential truck tyre as a quick way out.
So we got our paperwork done after about 2 further hours and were finally officially 'imported' into Mexico. Next was to escape Tijuana and the northern towns as that day was a Saturday which to me meant most Mexican police men were putting their best bribery face on ready for hordes of unsuspecting gringos. On leaving T.J I finally realized how many suicidal dogs there were in Mexico, within 10 mins of riding I negotiated past 2 Alsatians, 1 Labrador cross and I think 2 chowawas. Well at least I think thats what they were as they were blending into the hard shoulder when I went passed. Initially it is fairly gruesome to see Fido the dog purified on the armco, but it is something you get used to. What you don't get used to is the fact you dint have an air-con filter on the bike to sift out the smoldering dog smell as you pass them. My nose has now got used to all the flavors the road had to offer in Baja, and I must say cat seems to be a far more subtle aroma, where as dog is more sharp on the pallet.

We got passed Rosarito and I must admit all the rumors of Mexican drivers are (SO FAR) not true. I must stress this is comparing them to American drivers which are terrible. Granted the Mexican may think driving on the right hand side is a suggestion, and that traffic lights are merely Morse code for go faster, but at least they keep their eyes on the road, which is far more than I can say for the US driver. Especially as the Americans cross the border they feel that they can drive even more dangerously as it would only be a 'local heathen' they would run over if all went wrong. The only redeeming feature of the average uncle sam being in Mexico means they still have one hand free to hold the wheel, as in the US one hand is for the mandatory mobile phone, the other is for the burger being chewed on, and the eye sight, well in the USA they are normally reading a book, but at least in Mexico they need to keep an eye out for the next suicidal pooch waiting for an exit from planet earth.
So after leaving the last major US incursion of Mexico (Ensanada) after day 1 we headed east towards the sea of Cortez and some dirt roads. On the ride across central Baja we saw some great scenery. It really is a very picturesque area of Mexico with great desert, mountains and lots and lots of cacti. Whilst riding along my attention was drawn to the edge of the road by something I was not used to, and oh yeah, a new smell, this one, slightly nutty. And there we have it, road kill comes in all shapes and sizes here, we now have a horse! I pitty the poor old sod who met with black beauty, but I can assure you that the horse was more red coloured and certainly no longer a beauty.
I shall brush over san Felipe as a place full of annoying tourists who has somehow slipped past all the military road blocks to arrive in a peaceful town, only to rent 14 quads, 32 jet skis and a large 4x4. They then proceed to ride them 24 hours a day. Nowhere was safe, and everywhere I looked it seemed there was a large pasty beached whale of a man tearing round on some sort of vehicle or another. Night 2 = bad nights sleep!

Day 3 we rode towards the dirt, We had already been through about 6 military blocks where they seemed to care more about the size of my bike and where I was going. As soon as I mentioned Argentina in my slowly increasing Spanish vocab, they just called me 'loco' and waved us on. We arrived at the dirt track along the coast line. The scenery was amazing but it was so so hot. The rest of the day was taken up by riding the worst roads (if thats what you can call them) I have so far ridden. The average speed must have been 10 mph the whole way in either really deep sand or huge rocks. We passed a couple of Mexicans in a HiLux who we saw at the end of the dirt road 2 days later. They told us they had received 4 punctures in about 130 miles, they ended up driving the last 30 miles on the rims! That is how bad this road was! Anyway back to the track.... So late in the first day of off roading both bikes are doing well but we ran out of water, I for one was so tired it was unreal so made the call we go down a track which suggested it had a restaurant. This may seem obvious but all the tracks say that, and you are greeted by a burnt down old shack or a dog waiting to die (you should see his eyes light up as he sees the wheels of the bike roll up!) So we rode down a track of horrid deep sand towards the sea and it turned out we were in luck, this place even had a dirt airstrip, but no Cessna's to have a go at flying unfortunately. I was so tired I decided to stop the bike in the most stylish of ways by applying the brakes till I stopped rolling and with great style falling off. Very cool.

So we found some leathery old bat who said she would cook us our 400 th taco of the trip, and even had some cola, so all was well. The place was actually really nice, and the beach was deserted apart from some whale bones, so we decided to stay the night here. We met the Mexicans who owned the place and they were really nice and let us sleep for free even though the taco woman try to sly $5 out of us for a beach she claimed to own! We spent the evening chatting with the Mexicans and this crazy American guy. I then notice that I happen to be sitting on a black widow spider! It really was!! I was on a chair, got up to get some water, and when i came back I shone the torch at the chair to see a black widow just hanging out in his web right where my legs were. Obviously the Mexicans found this very funny, but not me, and on closer inspection these nasty little blighters were everywhere! The Mexicans reassured me that I probably wouldn't die from a bite, I would just be very ill and live long enough for a medi-vac. I felt much better (yeah-right!)

The next day Tim and I rode on along the last leg of the dirt road through really tough deep sand. Not easy on a bike weighing as much as mine. Tim was handling it very well considering his experience, but I suppose he only had 1 pair of underpants and some petrol for weight. We got to the tarmac and continued through various towns which were a bit of a disappointment. We were chasing the tail end of a hurricane which we knew nothing about till we arrived at these towns which were full of debris and raw sewage, so to be fair it wasn't the best advert for a cynic like me.
We were now in the South (Baja Sur) This point is marked by more military types looking bored and asking silly questions. We headed for Lorreto along the Mex 1, and I began to notice something different. My nose had not been offended by the smell of stewing livestock for quite a while. However there were plenty more live ones loitering on the roads, amongst the usual suspects were goats who seemed to have joined the party. It brought back great memories of the plastic bottle chewing goats of Africa, and confirmed to me that once a pack of goats appear by the roadside you really are in a developing country. Due to the fact that the road was littered with living creatures made me come to the conclusion that they must be way more streetwise down south, or maybe its just because there are no American tourists running them over, whilst looking for the next Subway (the healthy alternative for fat people) and talking to anyone who will listen on their mobile phone. Very likely I'm sure.
After leaving Lorreto feeling a bit disappointed about firstly the huge cost of accommodation in this area but also the smell of poo due to the storm, we searched for another place to stay. We took a dirt road towards the mountains where there was supposed to be a really pretty mission built by do-gooders way back when. We rode on a great dirt road through streams and past great scenery for about 1 hr, and arrived at mission san Javier. This place was great! Certainly the best place I have been in Baja. A small mission with a really nice old church and cobbled streets. We camped in the local junkies vegetable patch for a mere $2 (money for his medication of course! ) And I was constantly bothered by a thieving Alsatian who found it amusing to run off with my tent pegs.
We woke up the next morning under mango trees, so breakfast was free. Very nice mangos too. Lucky for us the local junky was nowhere to be seem I'm sure due to his `medication' so we left heading west on the dirt road to the Pacific side. Now what you need to understand when it comes to locals is that a general rule is do not believe a word they say until you see it for yourself. Due to this hurricane that had gone through, the river was swollen, a few locals said we would not make it as the river was waist high, but several others including the local policeman said it was fine, so off we set. The first section of the road was about 2-3 foot deep in mud, I rode through the tyre marks made by other vehicles, but tip disappeared. I rode back to find him covered in mud, and totally stuck. After about 10 mins of laughing I decided it best to direct operations rather than get covered in smelly mud myself. The local loitering chap and Tim finally got the bike out. The next two hours consisted of about 10 river crossing where the water got deeper and deeper until finally we decided that the first local was indeed right, and we couldn't go any further. At this point the water was knee high on the bike, and we were having to walk every crossing to make sure it could be done first. This, I hate to say it, was the second time this trip that I have been forced to turn back. Again, I think a good idea which was confirmed a bit later on.
After making it back through the river crossings to the village Tims starter switch had packed in due to the water, lucky for him the old KLR's have a kick start. We rode back to Lorretto to join the main highway south.
We reached the tarmac about 1 hr later. I pulled over to check the bike due to all the shaking, and thank goodness I did. On close inspection one of my chassis bolts had worked loose and come totally out! (see pic when I load it) I doesn't really bare thinking about if I hadn't stopped and had tore off at 70 round the next corner. Good example of why to check nuts and bolts, a good example of how rough these roads are, and another good call turning back.
Last night we camped up a hill off the road by about 1 mile. We are sorting out the tents and cooking some food and a random man turns up armed with a rifle! Pretty funny really as, we got talking and he had a beer with us, ate with us and we then had a shooting contest with his rifle and a can. (I wont say who won as it would be unprofessional, but lets say Mexico came 2nd) All very random but a good laugh.
Today I find myself in La Paz waiting to get a very expensive ferry to the mainland. Baja has been a great experience but in summary I can honestly say that the main tourist towns are a big disappointment, however the back roads, tracks and tiny missions in the mountains have been excellent. The cost of things is another gripe, but thats probably because me and Tim are both mean old sods who don't like spending money.
Finally the bike is still running well, but tyres are not enjoying the roads, oh and the road kill count has increased by one mid-sized peppermint green lizard, I swear he never felt a thing.