It is with a heavy heart that we, the Broken Wagon Films crew, write this upon receiving word of the death of a dear friend--and friend of many--Pancho.
It is hard not to think or talk about Baja without thinking of Pancho. In a way, he is Baja personified. He defined so many of our trips: making the drive on the rutted, sandy road out to Playa San Rafael to the beautiful spit of land he called home; his welcoming nature as he greeted us; and the ensuing days of stories, laughter, and exchanging of gifts. We spent many nights beside a fire on that beach with him and his dogs (so many over the years that we've lost count and begin to forget their names), drawing pictures in the sand, communicating in broken English and Spanish, listened as he told us stories of banditos and dolphins and the disappearing fish in the gulf, and watched as he ate a black scorpion that had crawled over his foot--in one bite, careful to not bite the venomous tip of the tail, pinched between two of his fingers.
His unmatched kindness and spirit will be missed, as will his jokes and wisdom.
Descansa en paz, Pancho "Correcaminos," nuestro amigo.