Girl Meets World on FZ-07 Motorcycle: Chapter 3, Part 2

I’m happy to report that my time in the Baja has continued to be a pleasant surprise. Things have changed quite a bit from the touristy wine country and border towns, but I’m still having a good time!

After we officially woke up in Mexico for the first time, we got our first authentic Mexican breakfast of beans and eggs and tortillas and avocados. I’m still struggling with the concept of not being able to order water at most restaurants unless they specifically have it filtered or bottled, but hopefully I’ll eventually develop more of a taste for juice and tea (I still hate beer and coffee, which is apparently a problem in these parts). It’s the little things.

Eager to get moving, we got on our bikes to head to another winery. This one was built using old boats for the roofs of each building and had walls built from wine bottles, cut and cemented together like round bricks. We attempted a wine tasting that came out to a massive $10 a person, where we officially coined the phrase Pinche Suave (The class and sophistication of your average motorcycle racer never disappoints). The only issue was that the otherwise pretty manageable dirt roads getting in and out of the joint had gathered some pretty sizable mud puddles. Having recently picked up Scala Rider Cardo communicators, it was easy for Hollywood and I to communicate on road conditions or such when one or the other was leading, so I let him go through first to, well, test the waters.

Like most things that involve Hollywood and motorcycles, he charged in head first, entirely too fast, and made an impressive mess of himself and his bike. I’m still trying to figure out how the hell he threw mud high enough to cover to the top of his helmet and backpack. After a messy first pass to get to the winery, the second pass I was hoping to find a better line. After wiz-banging ahead, Hollywood called back, telling me the middle was about as bad as the edges, so to just pick a line a go for it.

This was an exaggeration. I’m pretty sure all this mud is never washing off….

But all’s well that ends well, I guess. I made it through the puddle a horrifying mess of mud after hitting a deep rut in the wrong part of the pool, and accepted that I now have an anti-theft dirt paintjob. We putted off back to the highway, and stopped at a small restaurant off the 3 called Mustafa’s at the recommendation of a friend. Apparently it was owned by his family, and the apple pie was homemade. It tasted every bit as warm and homey as you could ever want apple pie to be. I don’t know how we’re going to maintain this standard, because this food is really spoiling me.

As we left the restaurant, we finally said goodbye to Mike and Stacy. Unfortunately, they still had responsibilities and jobs (or something like that) and had to make it home for Monday. It was a bit sad to say goodbye, but I’m still pretty overjoyed they took the time and effort to come down with us at all. I couldn’t have asked for a more enchanting start to the trip!

Back to being just the two of us, Hollywood and I peeled out, and headed south on the 3. We eventually crossed into Ensenada to an American-esque line of Home Depots and Walmarts and Auto Zones. It felt a bit less like a third world country now. The city felt dirty and run down, the drivers were careless and aggressive, and we were both relieved to just get through it. We hopped on Highway 1, and made our way down to our first military checkpoint. But being we were obviously just uninteresting American tourists, they waved us through with barely a word, and we made our way down. The highway twisted through the mountains, and was everything you could ask for in a motorcycle ride. Save a handful of spots of construction here and there. We turned off on a road toward Erendira, and followed some more mountain roads, until the pavement gave way to dirt again. I’m really going to have to start getting more used to this for real, now that we’re not in the states anymore.

The road was much rougher than the ones we had followed through wine country, but aside from being a bit physically jarring, it wasn’t particularly challenging. We stopped at a hostel called Coyote Cal’s just off the road. Our room sat at the top of the building, dubbed the crow’s nest, and offered 360 views of sea cliffs and wildlife. We spent the next day just reading books by the water and climbing around the cliffs. It felt like a really magical spot.

As the sun was setting, two other bikers pulled up (on actual dirt bikes that were actually appropriate for the Baja), both of which were named Mike, and one of which happened to be the father of a fellow motorcycle road racer we both knew. We ended up spending the whole night laughing about how small the road racing community really is. Crazy coincidence!

The next day was Valentine’s Day and it was finally time to get on our way. We packed up and made it back to the main highway, then, with no real plan, just started heading down. Eventually, we were both pretty tired, and ended up pulling into a small farm at the side of the road. For a small fee, the owner was happy to let us camp there. This was a rare spot that had potable water, so I pulled out my stash of Backpacker’s Pantry meals, so we could have a fancy Italian dinner for the holiday. Well, as fancy as motorbike camp food ever really gets, anyways. Unfortunately, being right off the highway, the trucks roared through all night, with all the subtlety of a jet engine, so it wasn’t the most pleasant way to spend our first night in a tent in the Baja, but I’m sure we’ll do better from here.

That said, I’m hoping to finally get some distance down and start really making our way to Cabo in the morning, since I feel like we’ve been taking it pretty slow so far. I’m really enjoying Mexico, but it’s time to start making some progress!