Boca del Álamo to La Paz //
It’s nearly high tide when we step outside at sunrise this morning. Gentle waves are lapping just a few feet from our door and the glow of the rosy sky is reflecting from the water’s surface. Everything has an ethereal glow this morning and I think to myself I can’t believe we’re about to leave Baja by choice. This place is heaven on earth. It’s been easy-living this past month and I know enough to recognize that that has a lot to do with how lucky we’ve gotten with the weather. Baja isn’t always this welcoming, we just happened to hit a streak of good fortune.
We could easily inhabit this beach for several more days but the clock is ticking and it’s time to make our way back to La Paz for chores before our ferry ride in three days. Rather than leave the way we came, we follow the dirt track that hugs the coast and eventually reconnects us to the highway. It’s slow-going with a steep cliff dropping straight down from the passenger side of the truck. It may have rattled some nerves had I not been flying the drone for the sketchiest part of the drive. Instead I focused on flying and got a bird’s eye view of the truck weaving its way through the stunning landscape.
During our descent down the rocky road on the backside of the mountain that we just climbed, a loud and sudden noise that sounds like a sledgehammer on aluminum causes us to stop immediately. The step that we use to get in and out of the camper is lying in the road. During off-pavement drives, Mark secures it to the front hitch rather than the back hitch so that it doesn’t drag. The hitch pin that secures the step to the hitch had fallen out. The step worked its way out of the hitch, fell out, and we ran it over. While the step got a nice little bend in it, there didn’t appear to be any damage to the undercarriage of the truck, luckily. I shudder to think what would have happen if it had fallen out while driving highway speed on pavement. Mark re-secures the step with a different hitch pin and we continue on to La Paz.
Our destination for the night is Campestre Maranatha, an RV Park on the edge of the city. The only reason we’re here is to catch up on chores and so the rest of the afternoon is dedicated to washing every towel, sheet, and piece of clothing in our possession. After a colder than expected shower I realize how accustomed I’ve become to using public laundry and bathroom facilities. It’s part o the deal when living in a tiny home on wheels and is a great way to practice appreciation for life’s simple pleasures. Anytime a public shower delivers hot water I’m elated. You have to go into it knowing that you have no idea what you’re going to get.
After sundown a few fireworks are set off in the vacant lot adjacent to the RV Park. This is precisely why we’ve decided not to stay here for our last night before getting on the ferry. Ferry Eve for us is New Year’s Eve for everyone else and we need to be strategic about where we camp if we want to give ourselves any chance at sleeping. Mexicans like to party and so my fingers and toes are crossed that tomorrow we can suss out a campsite that will put some distance between us and the inevitable night-long celebrations that will be happening all over town.
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That was a intense moment with the hitch pin. Happy it wasn’t more serious. I would have had a hard time sitting in the passenger seat driving along that narrow dirt road with the cliff dropping straight down next to you! That looked scary!