Mexico Day 120: It doesn’t get much better than this

La Paz to Agua Verde //

Before departing Campestre Maranatha this morning, we make sure to take advantage of every amenity available to us. We each take a hot shower, and Mark empties our toilet and disposes of all our trash. In Baja, we spend far less time at established campgrounds, and so tending to these chores is imperative while we have the opportunity.

A five-hour drive is ahead of us, but no navigation is needed; we know exactly where we’re headed. For the entirety of our time on the mainland, this was never true. Today we have the luxury of turning on a podcast and simply enjoying the drive. There are no tolls to pay, and the topes occur far less than what we’ve become accustomed to. For hours, there’s nothing to see but pavement stretched out before us surrounded by uninhabited desert as far as the eye can see. Baja California Sur is Mexico’s least populated state; a fact that feels palpable now that we’ve traveled through more than half of Mexico’s 31 states.

The last hour and a half of our drive is spent on a narrow ribbon of dirt that is carved into a rugged mountainside, eventually leading us to the Sea of Cortez. In that time, we don’t pass a single vehicle. As we descend down the spur road that leads to Agua Verde, my hopes are high that the season truly is winding down, and this beach won’t be overflowing with campers like it was the first time we came here a few years back. When we crest the hill, I’m both delighted and confused. There are only four vehicles parked on the beach, leaving adequate room for us to find a corner for ourselves, but there are about fifteen people gathered for a game of bocce ball. On the shoreline are five beached dinghies, and in the small protected bay are some twenty sailboats. It must be cruisers’ happy hour.

After the game concludes and the dinghies disperse, we meet Morgan from Wyoming and Dan from Northern California. Between their camps is a couple from Montana. For the first time in months, we’ve found ourselves in the company of fellow Americans… and like-minded Americans at that. Conversation ensues with ease, and I remember that this is one of my favorite things about Baja. It’s a place where we tend to easily make friends. Life on the road can feel isolating at times, but I never feel that way in Baja.  This peninsula has a way of attracting our kind. 

At sunset, the clouds lift just enough to allow the sun to paint the mountains gold. After the sun disappears, the parting clouds turn into brilliant shades of fire orange and neon pink. Meanwhile, the air is so perfectly still that the water hardly makes a sound as it makes contact with the beach. When the last of the day’s light fades away, the sky turns black and fills with sparkling stars. Just as we’re about to go to bed, a five-minute firework show fills the sky on the opposite side of the bay. Hoots and hollers come from the sailboats, and then silence soon returns.

Sometimes the only way I can describe Baja is with one word…magical. Today is one of those days.