San Juanico -> A spit in the middle of nowhere //
We wake to a thick, wet layer of fog. Everything is soaking wet and the sand sticks to every surface like glue. There’s no desire among the group to stay so we pack up and begin our 70 mile journey through no man’s land to San Ignacio Lagoon. Not without first getting breakfast, of course, at our favorite restaurant in San Juanicio, El Burro En Primavera.
By the time we’re done with breakfast a bright blue sky has come out to greet us. It’s looking like a beautiful day for a drive through the desert. Pavement turns to dirt the moment we exit San Juanico. To our surprise and delight the dirt road appears to have been recently graded. We traveled a short section of this road back in December and it was some of the worst washboard we’d ever been on. The now smooth(ish) surface tells us we may get to San Ignacio Lagoon much sooner than anticipated. Since we chose this road for an adventure and it’s turning out to be easier than expected, we decide to veer off to the west on to the “low road”, a less traveled section of track that skirts the ocean and ends at the same destination.
We weave our way through and around a section of salt flats that online forums warned to approach with caution. As usual, the internet had given us some nerves but once we laid eyes on the terrain ourselves we could easily see what was safe to travel on and what would not be if the surface had been wet. Luckily for us it was all dry as a bone.
We’d covered more ground in less time than expected so we decided to wander off the route and scope out a place to camp. A long, narrow spit on the map looked intriguing so we followed a line in the dirt that would take us there, first leading us through a meager little fishing village where I assumed the townspeople lived off of what the land and sea provided.
The end of the spit would be where we would call home for the night. Narrow enough that we could see the water on both sides as well as hear and see the raging Pacific in the distance. The cool evening air and accompanying wind caused us to break out jackets we’d not used in months and huddle around the wind-blocked sides of our rigs for dinner. Come bedtime I was left wondering, were these last few nights a cold spell that would soon pass or is this our sign that we’re heading north? Time would soon tell.
We woke in San Juanico to a heavy layer of fog. 
Heading north out of San Juanico led us in to an expansive uninhabited desert. 
Driving through the remote fishing village of El Datil, one of few places where people lived along the 100 mile stretch between San Juanico and San Ignacio. 
The long, narrow spit where we would find a place to camp. 
This ended up being one of the more unique places we’ve ever camped. 
Drone photos taken with the DJI Mini.
Land- based photos taken with the Canon R6.
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