Baja day 19

Woke up early to a dew covered rainfly. The guys were all into pre-8 am departure, so I let them go on ahead. Maybe I’d catch up. Or not. Now that I saw what the road was like, I wasn’t so worried. Anyway, I hate packing a wet tent. And I love having my mornings alone.

Pretty easy ride at first. In a few miles I passed the community center with tables and bathrooms. I saw a sign pointing to cave paintings but there was no path, no road, no obvious rocks. Also some occasional trash cans, uncovered, with all the trash strewn around by wind and animals. I decided not to leave my trash there.

The ocean appeared as a muted blue line. Gradually the road ambled westward and I could hear the crashing waves.

I still had a good stash of water but I was on the lookout for refill possibilities. The guide had warned that San Jose del Faro had no services. I came to the first houses. No people around, and I even knocked on a few doors. I kept going and realized there were more houses further on. The road continued down to the shore. I heard music. All the people were down there, working on fishing things.

A barking black dog ran towards my leg. “Good dog, no biting,” I told it. The dog’s nose bumped into my calf. Not biting. Good dog. I turned up towards the fish buildings, and came to a nice woman and her little girl. After I asked for water, a man with an elaborate belt buckle asked if I’d found my phone. I’d met him the day before, after I’d turned back to look for my dropped phone. Another guy asked if I wanted to use the wifi. Because of course the fish camp had wifi!

It wasn’t actually fish they caught, but lobster. The man pointed to the pile of traps. I considered trying to buy a lobster, to cook at camp. But, how would I carry a lobster? Much less cook it? It’s not like I could YouTube it out there.

After the lobster camp, the road went up some big sandy rocky hills that were no fun pushing up. The route followed the Pacific coast, climbing up the bluffs and dropping down into coves. It was wild fantastic coast. I came into one lonely cove and saw a flurry of movement down the road. It was a herd of wild donkeys, all alert and staring at the weird thing coming their way. As I got closer they galloped into the desert. There were three white donkeys and three white and brown spotted donkeys. One of the spotted ones was a baby. (I really want to see a baby donkey close up. From what I’ve seen from afar, they’re adorable.) As the herd watched me squealing and taking pictures, another donkey appeared over the desert horizon, hew hawing dramatically.

A few coves down, I saw a surf camp – two Toyotas with Oregon plates, surrounded by dome tents and tarp shades. Their dogs barely bothered to sniff in my direction. A sun bleached guy filled another of my water bottles and told me he thought it was crazy to cycle out here. I was jealous of the Coleman stove. I bet they can cook lobster on that.

When the sun started to get low, I decided I would look for a spot in the next cove. I followed faint tracks out to a point, and found a flattish spot on a point, over the surf. I saw on some rocks and ate dinner and watched a sunset that went on and on, across the whole sky, long after the sun had set.

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