We are back on hw 1, swarmed by vans with surfboards on top, tractor trailers and other dwellers of the fast road. The hot springs were expressly amazing. Totally worth climbing into the freezing altitudes, and barreling down the straits for. Two days were spent, and un countable liters of Pacifico cerveza passed back around. The road to and from was delightful, then we passed by Gonzaga, where the winter winds whipped up the sand and dust, forcing us to hide behind bandanas. A sandy highway in mid construction marked the next phase of travel, a part we were warned about, it was now time to pay the piper.
A few kilometers of sand road gave way to hard pack, with lots of sharp rocks. Our compatriot Carol quickly got the idea that this was un passable, and we flagged her a lift in the last jeep of the day. Tryman pushed foreword, gaining elevation by hook or crook, and we got a pristine camp spot with all the splendors of Baja in view. Trevor, our chef de cuisine found a great nook to break the wind for him, and our kingly meal of beans and tortillas was had under full moon light. Ten kilometers into the next day, we happened by a desert oasis. Cold, cold beers in a fridge and a stopping spot for locals, Coco's corner, half way between nowhere and somewhere was a mighty good place to sit. Coco, a legend in the off road community welcomed us in, saying he had been waiting for for us for two days. news travels faster than bikes on the road. He scribed on our map, marked a few places that were good to camp, and then had us sign his guest book. He pointed out all the bicycle riders from the past few years, there was one just 12 days before. A truck then come into the lot, the passenger had just completed in year's running of the Baja 1000, Coco offered us for them a lift in their off road prepared truck, and with Simons and Trevor convincing, I let my bike be stacked like a piece of pie on display, and we were carried up the road at an awesome speed.
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