August 29-Sept 2 1996

	Mark & Kimberly Naugle...BCG 1 & BCG 1TOO 1991 Toyota Truck
 Heavily modified
 Heavily Loaded
Stu and Dynece Klien....Mr. & Mrs. Baja Jones 1994 Ford Ranger 4x4
 Dual front shocks, extended travel
 National leaf springs
 32" BFG A/T's
Barry Buckelew Jr.......Weekend Central
 	Eric Ross......Youngster beyond his age
Chealse........The 3 legged dog.
 1991 Toyota 4x4 ExtraCab
 Dual front shocks, extra fuel tank
 31" BFG A/T's

We crossed the border into Tijuana  about 6:30 pm on Thursday and headed down the toll road to Ensenada at a rapid rate. Nature treated us to a fiery sunset as we blasted through the warm, humid evening. As we reached Ensenada we were very sticky after only an hour in Baja. It looked to be long evening.

         We had to get a few final supplies before leaving civilization. Dynece suggested the new super market on the south side of town. We were guided into the parking lot by the security guard and directed to spots right up front. Mexico is progressing as there were marked handicapped spots by the doors to the market.

        We were impressed with this Super CaliMax store. Very clean, well stocked with lots of help in the aisles and behind the counters. There was a deli counter so Stu and Barry had coffee while they shopped. Basically we had stopped to get beer and limes but we managed to pick up a few other item like fresh tortillas. We wiped the accumulated salt spray from our windows and saddled up to continue south. We had another 200 miles to cover before we slept.

        The road south from here would be full of traffic as we made our way through a series of smaller towns on the way to San Quintin.  Most of the traffic is sensitive to those who want to pass. The leading car will turn on the left blinker and give a wave when the road ahead is clear. Once we got one of our trucks out in front we had the radios to indicate the ALL CLEAR. Maneadero, Santo Tomas, San Vincente, Colonet and Camalu all slow down trough traffic by a combination of road signs and the squarest speed bumps in the Americas. They virtually require a full stop to get over them safely.

        After San Quintin the traffic died to almost nil so we could blast trough the thick Baja night with the aid of our off-road lights. The still humid night was full of flying critters to decorate our windshields. We made our first gas stop at the El Rosario PEMEX a little after 11:00pm. At the stop, Stu discovered that he had straightened out the eye of one of his Bilstiens on the way down. Most likely one of the speed bumps. He pulled it off and we were on the way.

        The Trans Peninsular Highway was in really good shape. It was very narrow but the pavement was good in most places and excellent in others. We wondered why they couldn't make the road a couple inches wider each time they did a repaving.

        By a little after midnight we had found the turn off to El Marmol, our camp for the night. We spread out and did the nine mile trail into El Marmol in no time.

        "Marmol" is Spanish for marble. El Marmol is an old onyx quarry. During its operation in the late 1800's and 1st half of this century, huge blocks of onyx were carved out and hauled down to the beach at Puerto Catarina where they were hauled one at a time through the surf to ships that would haul them to San Diego. They were the carved into bathtubs and the like for the rich and famous.

        There still remains the old school house that was made out of huge chunks of the onyx. We set up camp nearby and watched the distant lightning to the east over the Sea of Cortez. The evening tropical storms were providing us with a natural light show.

        We spread our bags on the ground and gazed up at the full moon in a perfect desert night. There was zero wind and the air temperature was perfect. As we had climbed a couple of thousand feet the humidity had ceased its oppression. As I drifted off to sleep I smiled at the prospects before us on the journey.

        I woke up with a start at 5:30 am. I looked at my fellow travelers and they all were sitting up in their bags and looking to the east. The wind swirled around and the clouds had an ominous grey tone to them. It didn't require any argument to decide that we needed to make an adjustment to our arrangement: get moving. We quickly packed up and then explored the quarry before the rain started. The colors and patterns in the stone were beautiful to behold. Quartz crystals  had pushed to the surface while the rock was formed and glistened even in the gloom of the approaching storm. As the first drops started to pelt us we saddled up and headed out. In the next 1/4 mile the road and the trucks were soaked. It kept the dust down so we were able to make a hasty exit. The rain had not yet reached the pavement as we continued south. We had 180 more miles to go before hitting more dirt. The rain hit us on and off for the next hour before we stopped at Rancho San Martin for breakfast of eggs, beans and fresh homemade tortillas. The paper thin kind.  Mmmm. By the time we were done eating the sky had cleared but the humidity was still very high.

        As we reached the Bahia de Los Angeles turn off we came upon yet another of the Mexican Army checkpoints. At these, a squad of young soldiers with automatic weapons will ask us our destination, our point of origin and if we are carrying and drugs or guns.  They will poke around the back of the trucks and look in the coolers. Some of the checkpoints are more thorough than others and all are handled in a professional and courteous manner. During race weekends, they will all ask for stickers and a seasoned Baja chase team will carry a bunch of stickers to hand out. A few of the soldiers seemed to be interested in Barry's cigarettes. I think the next time I will have a few spare packs up on the dash for "international relations".

        By 11:00 am we were in Gurerro Negro. Here we stocked up on ice, gas, and what ever we had consumed on the way down. Stu went to find a replacement shock but ended up getting the original eye welded closed. For 20 pesos. That is less than 3 bucks. We replaced it in steaming humidity while the girls went and got us tacos. I think that the single most intense pleasure in Baja is the food. The flavor out of those tacos was incredible. The simple little taco stands are the best. Eat where the locals eat. The food is reason enough to make the journey.  We had another 60 miles of pavement to go.

        We had planned to race down and get to the dirt so we could get where we were going. Baja has a way of slowing everything down. The stops all took a little longer than they do on Stateside trips. We dawdled at the photo opps a little more. You get a relaxed "get there when we get there" attitude. "The Manana Syndrome." If it doesn't happen today there will be plenty of time to do it tomorrow. We were firmly in the grip.

        South again to Viscaino and then west out onto the Viscaino peninsula for 40 miles of graded dirt road. We found the turnoff to Malarrimo beach and headed north on the trail.

        Malarrimo Beach is a north facing beach on the Viscaino peninsula which juts out in to the south bound currents of the Pacific Ocean. Malarrimo is reputed to be a beachcombers dream. The currents wash ashore everything that goes into the water anywhere in the Pacific. This could include a great amount of trash as well as untold treasure. Everything from live torpedoes to baby food jars end up here. The most sought after items are round blown-glass globes used for floats in Japanese fishing nets. We would soon see.

        The trail into Malarrimo had been described to us in many different ways. Some had said that it was very difficult and some had said that it wasn't too bad. We decided the most reasonable description was that the trail conditions changed every year. Now was our chance to see. The trail was 26 miles to the beach. We zeroed the odo and started in. The route started by winding through a real tight sand wash that required a lot of throttle steering to get the back end around. It would straighten out for 100 yards and then zig or zag again. At about mile 6 we popped out on to a little plateau and zipped along through a bright red colored soil. After a mile of this we came upon a huge canyon. Very much like the Grand Canyon on the coloring of the strata and with smaller branches joining the main gouge. We paralleled the canyon for 1/2 a mile before we started to drop down in. It became apparent that this great drain would be headed for the ocean the same as we were. When we reached the floor we realized that we would stay in the canyon all the way to the beach.

        I had made a miscalculation in the setup of my truck for this trip. I had last packed my leaf springs for the Barstow race pre run. I carried only an ice chest then and so I had removed one leaf from the pack. I should have put it back in for this trip since the truck was so heavy with Supplies and Equipment.  The rear end was bottoming out on this trail much more than it should.

        Although the trail was easy to follow it appeared that there was only one other set of tire tracks that had taken the trail recently. As the trail wound its was seaward we could see gradual changes in the terrain. The floor became more sandy and the walls of the canyon started to be covered with blow sand. By about mile 20 the canyon walls had become sand dunes. Coyote tracks were visible at many place.  Small dunes had begun to cover the floor of the canyon. We were getting close to the beach.

        I was in the lead at this point and I found a little trail up onto a small dune complex where a permanent camp had been built from a variety of building supplies that had washed up on the beach. I got out and ran up the next dune and got a visual on Malarrimo Beach and the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean. I flagged first Stu up the dune and he used that higher route to drive into the beach. Barry came by and I waved him up to our spot as well.  After looking at the beach we decided to try and find a camp a little closer to the beach. Stu started to take the wash down to the beach. This developed into a situation. Under a 2" covering of sand was a bed of peanut butter like mud that sucked the left front tire of the Ranger into its grip. This stuff was nasty.  Very slick yet very sticky. A shovel was useless. We had to dig with our hands. Kimberly, Dynece and  Stu were covered to the elbows with the stuff. 13 year old Eric gathered planks to put under the tires and Barry and I got to stay clean to do the driving. Yea, wimps.

        The truck had only gone about 4 feet into the mess but still the front axles were buried. They had to be dug out before the truck could be pulled out. After all the digging and about a dozen tugs, the truck was released from the grip of the ooze. The diggers walked on the beach to swim and wash off the muck while Barry and I ferried the trucks back to camp and to set up a couple of SunShowers.

         We then headed to the beach for the cocktail hour. We did a little exploring up and down the beach and found a vast variety of items of interest. Not really of value, but of interest.  We had found one other set of tire tracks up above the high tide line that headed west along the beach. Other than that, no other signs of inhabitants showed. We had this entire beach to our selves. The beach is 10 miles long from the estero in the east to the rocky cliffs at the western edge. We sipped our drinks and watched as the sun dipped into the ocean and turned the clouds a vibrant collection of pinks and reds and magentas. The breaking surf picked up the reflections of the sky and took on the look of the mother of pearl in an abalone shell.

        The vast quantity of drift wood provided an endless supply of fuel for the camp fire. Dinner was started and we used the SunShowers to rinse off the salt of the sea and the sweat of the journey. We really felt refreshed and enjoyed our supper and cocktails around the fire. As the moon started to come up over the dunes the coyotes began to sing to us. We retired after another wonderful day the the Baja desert.

        Dawn came early and warm. By 8:30 the heat told us to get in the water. Since the tide was all the way up we lined up the trucks back on the blow-sand and set up the beach chairs. Dynece brought out the board and hit the surf. I grabbed a beer and waded into the water. Bath water warm. The waves made the beer drinking a little tough. And salty.

        Most of the day was spent doing pretty much the same thing. Swimming, beach combing, surfing, eating, beer drinking, and just sitting in the warm Baja sun. Because of our southern latitude, the sun was directly above us rather than to the south. There was no hiding behind a truck to escape the burning rays. We had to be under something rather than behind it.

        By 3:30 we were thoroughly sunburned and the tide had receded so we could drive down the beach for some more exploring. There was another wash that emptied into the beach a couple of miles west. Barry and Eric explored up the wash to see if it would be possible route out. It appeared feasible if we could beat the high tide and drive on the beach in the morning. We figured we would have to be on the beach by 7:30 the next morning to beat the tide.  

             As mentioned before, the allure of this beach was the flotsam and jetsam that accumulated here. We found a U.S. Navy sonobouy, a tooth brush, beer bottles, sea turtle shells, liquor bottles, plastic water bottles, half of a plastic toy soldier, a frisbee, a shotgun shell wadding, tennis balls, hard hats, many, many seashells, huge tree root structures, film cans, disposable lighters, fish bones, smokeless tobacco cans, rope and line of all sizes, lumber, Hersey's chocolate syrup bottles, a tube of thigh reduction cream with instructions in Spanish, freon tanks, oil drums, medicine bottles and tubes from Korea, Russia, the U.S., and what we believe to be India, many foam fish net floats, wads of fish line, the pelvis and vertebrae of a whale, tires, and.... a message in a bottle. It was in a 16oz. water bottle and was tossed from a Carnival Cruise ship. It had the note and some other items. The note explained that it was to be a survival kit for a stranded voyager. The kit included sugar, salt, pepper, matches, napkins, toothpicks, a wetwipe, and a cocktail straw. I'd like to be stranded in a place where you need cocktail straws to *survive*. What amazed us was that we found no aluminum cans.  Since as many bottles were found without caps as with, it can't be based on buoyancy. Maybe because of the recycleablity of the cans not as many were tossed away. We also found no toilet seats. Most are made of wood so they can float. ? ?

        Farther down the beach we came to a reef that was about 20 feet wide and went out into the water about 200 feet. It was just out of the water at low tide almost like a natural pier. There was a mooring float 20 feet from the end. Kimberly and I walked out and explored the pools that were filled with sea creatures. Aneomes and small crabs cohabited with several types of barnacles.

        Kimberly and I drove back to camp so we could use the SunShower in a little privacy while the rest of the crew went back east and explored the low dunes behind the beach. What an amazing feeling to have all the salt washed off by warm water and soap. Who ever said the simple pleasures are the best knew about SunShowers. We then had to deal with our sunburn. My feet were my most dangerous burn and the sand seem to be the most annoying enemy. I decided to bite the bullet and wear shoes rather than the flops. I sprayed my feet with Bactine to kill any feeling and put on my socks and then shoes. Kimberly was in worse shape. She had been wearing a bikini all day and had more burn than I. It hurt her to wear shorts.

        I cracked open a beer and started prepping for dinner. Kimberly was quite uncomfortable so I did most of the dinner prep. She brought out the Tylenol and it seemed to take the edge off the burn. By this time the rest of the group had returned with stories of finding the remains of an old pirate ship back in the dunes. Right. Well, it had been very old. There was little left but the ribs and keel and Stu had enough ship building knowledge to date it to the 1800's.

        While Dynece took her shower, the boys took a hike on a coyote trail that led up to the top of the opposite canyon wall. From that vantage point we could see the ocean, the wash as it wound its way inland and the dunes that made up the coast here.

        We got a shout of "All clear" from the camp and we wandered back in. During dinner and the fire we discussed our impressions of Malarrimo. There was a consensus opinion that we had expected more stuff than we found. We expected to have to pick our way though piles of stuff on our way to the water which would be thick with floating junk. We were pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful sandy beach with more than the occasional item washed up on the shore.

        Kimberly  prepped us for an early departure and a rather painful night of trying to sleep with sunburn in a sandy tent. She shook out as much sand as possible and found a scorpion under the tent in the process. We put him in a cup and fed him bugs. The night was another nice evening so we didn't sweat nor have to crawl into the bags.

        We were up before the sun popped over the ridge in the morning. We broke camp and made it down to the beach by the planned 7:30. The tide was indeed low enough and we had a beautiful morning scoot down the beach to our departure point. Barry led as we made our way up the wash and then followed the trail that cut up the side of the dunes. Another 1/4 mile to the west we crested the dune summit and could see that this would  lead us to the road on the map that went out close to the point of the peninsula. The trail followed the edge of the cliffs through a series of small fish camps. We stopped at several places to take pictures of this magical coastline.

        Our plan for the day was to go out to Bahia Tortugas for gas and ice and then head down the western side of the Viscaino Peninsula towards Punta Asuncion and maybe even Abreojos. We made it to Bahia Tortugas by 9:00 and gassed up at the PEMEX station. Since it was Sunday most of the shops were closed until late morning. We managed to find some ice a lady was selling from her home. She was freezing water in plastic tubs and the breaking it up and bagging it. While we were searching for more ice, Barry stopped in a restaurant and ordered a bunch of burritos to go. The TV was on and the president was making a big speech. Because of the speeches, the stores would be closed for most of the day. After about another hour of searching we were led to a store that also had ice. We kinda snuck in and had to keep the door closed behind us. I guess he wasn't supposed to let us in. Still not as much ice as we had hoped for but enough to get by.

        As we left Tortugas we all seemed to be disappointed with the town. We had heard that it was a neat, brightly painted fishing village like Abreojos but we found it to be drab, dusty and uninviting.

        Headed back east again towards Viscaino, we took a right at the turnoff to Puerto Nuevo. We stopped under the shade of a mesquite tree and ate our burritos. Not what you get at Taco Bell but simply shredded beef wrapped in a tortilla. No beans, cheese, rice, sour cream or that other stuff. Simply wonderfully spicy flavor.

         We arrived at Puerto Nuevo to find virtually nothing. The town seemed asleep. This is a lobstering village and the season was closed so the was no activity.

We headed south along the coast on a road that was not on the map. We were hopping to find a trail that AAA had not yet cartographed. The road was well graded and well used so it looked promising.  After a few miles we came to a wash that had a trickle of water running through it. We followed the wash to the beach. Black volcanic sand and rocks with the tide up and breaking at our feet. Lots of coyote tracks. I'm sure the trickle of water into the canyon was supporting wildlife for miles around. We dubbed this place Oasis Wash. Back on the trail south we came to a locked gate after about 15 miles . We spent about 15 minutes hiking around, gazing at maps and pondering our options. This road was too well used and maintained to end up at a locked gate. Could we have missed a turn? We really had no option but to backtrack to Puerto Nuevo and keep our eyes open. "Abre-ojos" There was a trail inland in Oasis Wash but we figured that it just ran up to the spring. Back to Puerto Nuevo and then out to the Viscaino-Tortugas road. we stopped for lunch in the shade of yet another mesquite tree. Another right turn and we do another 30 miles to the town of Bahia Asuncion. If we could top up on gas we would head for Abreojos for the night. No luck. No gas at this isolated fishing village.

        We went another mile down the coast and drove over to the beach. Here the beach was littered with clam shells. The ancient Indians who populated the area lived almost exclusively on clams. When the white men 1st arrived in the area they found huge piles of clam shells all up and down the coast. The shells on the bottom of the piles were always the largest and the shells would get smaller toward the top of the pile. Some of the piles then had more big shells on top of the piles. It was determined that the Indians were clamming the area thoroughly and then moving down the coast to another spot. They would then start back up the coast and rework the area. No tools of any kind were found to indicate these Indians did anything but clam. Very few traces of fire also. The Indians would use fire when they got it (steamed clams)  but could not create it on their own.

        We, on the other hand, had fire but at this point were in no mood to use it. We really did not feel like camping here and chancing the drive to Abreojos would be risky without gas. The other option was a shower, a bed and a restaurant in Guererro Negro. We had done 100 miles already and it would take another 60 to get anywhere. We also had 500 miles to cover to get back to the border. G. Negro was the decision.

        This late in the afternoon the low sun livened up the colors of the desert. The tall cardon cactus was a deeper green and the reds of the soil created a dramatic contrast. Kimberly and I led off towards G.Negro and when we reached the pavement outside of Viscaino we pulled over to wait for the rest. Stu and Dynece passed and we waited for Barry and Eric. It was too nice an evening to leave the desert just yet. When we got good radio with Barry ( about 15 miles) we went into Viscaino and gassed up. I added octane boost as my truck was pinging badly on the Mexican gas. While waiting for Barry to arrive I bought some tamales from a lady who was selling them from  a shopping bag. They were warm and very, very tasty. That would hold us until we could get a proper dinner.

        As Barry was gassing up, a local , uh, entrepreneur came up to us and inquired if we needed any supplies of a pharmaceutical nature. Thanks for thinking about us but no, we're all set.

        45 minutes later we have found the Malarrimo Motel. We checked in, showered and met in the restaurant for Margaritas and a wonderful seafood dinner.

The Margaritas were very potent indeed. Back to the rooms for a good night sleep.

        Monday dawned a little cooler than usual and dew covered the ground. We packed and serviced the rigs for the long journey back up the Trans Peninsular Highway.

        20 minutes after getting under way we topped off the tanks at Jesus Maria and bought a couple of tamales for our breakfast. The PEMEX station attendant offered to buy my Mini MagLight but we couldn't agree on a price.

        At Punta Prieta two Mexican Army soldiers were flagging down cars. We stopped and they asked us if the younger of the two could ride in the back of my truck up to the next check point at Bay of LA Jct. Sure, its only 11 Kilometers. I got him situated on my ice chest with his back to the cab. He had the roll cage kickers to hold onto. Barry was behind us and would describe over the radio the soldiers expressions as we drove along. He also took video and photos to record the occasion. At the checkpoint we received the same thorough inspection as usual.

        Back on the road again and we had a decision to make. We could go north via the highway the same way we came down or we could get back in the dirt and take the Baja 1000 course from Coco's Corner up to Puertocitos and then San Felipe. We had discussed this during the planning stages of the trip but decided to stay away because the Sea of Cortez side is notoriously hot at this time of year. All of Baja is hot but the San Felipe side is brutal. The advantages to that route are :

1) It is 100 miles shorter to the border than TPH.
2) The views of the Sea of Cortez and the coastal islands are second to none. I really wanted Kimberly to see it.
3) Its in the dirt.

        The day was much cooler than we expected; only on the mid 80's so we decided to give the route a go. Stu and I had both been down this route last November in preparation for the 1000 and it had been freshly graded and very smooth. We were not so pleasantly surprised at how washboarded it had become in such a short time. This would take a little longer than we thought. Just as Gazonga Bay came into sight Stu called on the radio and announced that he had a flat on the right rear. He requested my floor jack so I turned around to help. When I stopped it looked like we would have 2 tires to change. My left rear was losing air. We turned it into a lunch stop. Stu had sliced a sidewall so his was done. Mine looked like it might be pluggable or patchable. On to Gazonga Bay and then up to Puertocitos. We would leapfrog each other through these sections as we stopped for photo opps.

        In Puertocitos we went out to the point and visited the sulphur hot springs that are located amongst the rocks at high tide level. The tide had not reached its peak and the mineral bath was much to hot to soak in. Pity. It would have been just the thing for achey off-road bones. When the tide comes up it dilutes the hot water to a tolerable level. The westward facing pools would be an excellent spot to soak and watch the moon rise over the Sea of Cortez. Or a sunrise bath. File this one for future reference.

        From Puertocitos to San Felipe the road is blessed/ cursed with a series of vados or dips that make the drive a bit more interesting. The challenge was to hit the lip fast enough to launch the truck off the exit and yet not so fast that you miss the down side and impact the up side. That could be a day ender.

        In San Felipe we gassed for the final leg out of Baja. The sun was starting to snuggle down behind the Sierra de Juarez as we made our way north. We stopped at the 3 Poles PEMEX station to try for a last burrito but the kitchen was closed. They make good ones there. No luck at the Pink Palace either.

        The last Army checkpoint was at La Ventana. We all knew the drill this time and got out and opened coolers and nester boxes before we were asked. One of the soldiers asked how many times we had been stopped before. Even though they slow down the travel the checkpoints were a part of Baja and a chance to get to know and try to understand the people just a little more. Baja has many faces and a great many will smile on you. Some will also laugh at you if you let your guard down too far.

        Just as the sun dropped below the skyline of Mexicali we made it back to the U.S. We had covered 1,300 miles in Baja and almost 400 of that was in the dirt. No injuries and only a couple of tires damaged.