"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 48

April 15th (Todos Santos to Ciudad Insurgentes)

It was great to have "the ladies" with us for a week. Heidi, Bri and Jade had a plane to catch and left us to gather and organize all of our stuff.

We were on the road by noon with a bit of sadness, as we had to turn the front tires of our bikes northward. We have completed about 95% of our filming goals while on the southern course. There are a few places and shots that we missed, skipped, or still want to get while on our way north so JT and I tentatively mapped out our return trip.

Our thought was to get through La Paz and camp at a spot we know of that is about 40 miles north of the city. We arrived there at three o'clock, the temperatures in the high 80s. With plenty of daylight, and nothing to film in that area, we pushed on. At one point we rounded a turn in the highway and found ourselves at the beginning of a very long straight and flat section of tarmac in front of us. JT immediately pulled to the side and I knew why. We were staring at an incredible shot of a mirage on the road. With the camera placed in the middle of the road, we captured a vehicle way off in the distance with its headlights on as it approached us. It made for an amazing shot!

Two hundred miles with my butt in the saddle of my bike was about all I could take. We pulled over and secured a room for the night in Ciudad Insurgentes. At $35 it was well worth it. Besides, there is nothing impressive about the terrain between La Paz and Ciudad Insurgentes. Nothing worth filming, that is.

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 38

April 7th (La Paz again)

This morning we met two marine biology PhD students for an interview. We were an hour late! Both JT and I were not aware that BCS plays the "spring forward, fall behind" game, changing their clocks for daylight savings, and I felt like a fool. Michelle and her husband Marco were very understanding and gave us a great interview anyway. Michelle is studying gray whales and attempting to prove that while they are in southern Baja to calf and mate, they are also feeding. This, if proven, could change how Mexico protects their breeding habitat. Marco, on the other hand, is studying the bottlenose dolphins that frequent the La Paz bay.

They both gave us a great insight into how Mexico is working to restore our marine habitats and what may be in store for the future. Thank you both for taking time out of your day to talk with us.

During the afternoon, we negotiated with a local panga captain to take us to El Mogote so that we could walk around to film. We walked around the complex and was surprised by how finished and bustling one part of the project was. We had heard rumors that the project was gaining momentum to be completed, and we certainly saw evidence that workers were on site and attempting to finish parts of the buildings.

We were then able to find the same location of a few of Goldman's photos of the La Paz waterfront so that we could do a "then and now" series of comparison shots.

La Paz on this Friday was alive with action. It seemed that all the vendors were out, the Malecon was bustling, and there was a flurry of activity everywhere. Spring break is here, not only for Mexico, but for the States as well. A major beach volleyball tournament was also being held on the Malecon and the stands were full of spectators. JT and I walked downtown during sunset to get some tacos for dinner.

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 41

Guest Blog by Associate Producer Bri Bruce

We woke early an spent the day on horseback. Oscar took us from the villa stables to La Boca de la Sierra, winding on a dusty road through the foothills of the Sierra la Laguna. Along the way, he stopped to point out and several species of plants and flowers, explaining what native Baja Californians would use for medicinal purposes. 

At one point, we traversed the Arroyo San Bernardo, and for a moment I felt as I imagined Nelson and Goldman once did during their time here, looking to either side of the road at the expanse of the dry river basin. To think that in this very canyon they rode their own horses during their own trek, over a century before. Suddenly we heard a loud whooshing noise, cross between a strong gust of wind and a plane flying overhead. When we looked up to where the sound was coming from, whatever it was was moving--and quickly--we saw a person, clad in helmet, gloves, and ropes, suspended from and rolling along a cable high above the arroyo. Zipline. All this before I could presume that little had changed in the last hundred or so years, with the exception of trash hung up in the underbrush and the branded cattle roaming about. Shortly after we came upon a small outpost, vans emblazoned with "Cabo Adventures," offering ziplining and ATVing to tourists from the cape. 

We continued on, noting the number of ziplines in the area, the platforms of various heights that were scattered among the peaks. Every now and then we heard someone whooping as they swung from one platform to the next along one of the the cables. We couldn't go five minutes without a bus full of smiling tourists lumbering down the narrow road or convoy of ATVers at our heels, revving their engines in an attempt to urge us to guide the horses to the shoulder. We were left to choke on their dust and calm the horses for some time afterward.

The road ended in a picturesque, rocky canyon that had collected rainwater in blue pools in its basin--a welcome reward for the journey. The water was remarkably clear for having been stagnant for some time, shrouded in grasses, a lone palm at the southeastern end. The horses drank and trotted through the water, clearly pleased, as several of them began pawing at the water, letting it splash around us. We did our best to cool off before filming a black water snake we had happened upon near a marshy crevice at the water's edge. Oscar tended to the horses, checking their saddles and upturning his hat, filling it with water from the canyon, and offering it to them to drink, pouring the rest over their necks and flanks.

I have a new respect for Nelson and Goldman and all they endured and were able to accomplish in this place. They must have been incredibly seasoned horsemen because I cannot imagine riding over 2,000 miles on horseback when only a day's ride has left me so sore and bruised I can hardly sit. 

On our return, the horses were eager to get back, picking up their pace to a trot despite Oscar's insistence (and our pulling at the reigns) that we not let them. Undoubtedly they were also growing more agitated at the constant convoys of ATVs whizzing past, coating us all in a fine layer of Baja dust. 

We finally made it back to Rigoberto's villa, hot and thirsty, the horses sweating and snorting. We helped Oscar wash and brush the horses, and then tie them up beneath some trees near the aviary to feed them alfalfa. Afterward, Oscar helped us in recreating a photograph that Nelson and Goldman took on their expedition of a vaquero in traditional dress. We were in awe. The photos we captured were nearly identical, down to the way the horse held his ears, the brim of Oscar's hat, the handmade leather chaps and saddle. This was truly a highlight of our time in the area, and truly a recreation of the original expedition we're aiming to recreate.

Oscar tending to his horses.

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Later in the afternoon, once packed, we bid Rigoberto and Oscar farewell and thanks, and continued south around the cape. After ten or so miles on a rutted and windy dirt road toward Cabo Pulmo, we arrived at our next destination: a gated community of houses and condos atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. We're staying at a condo belonging to a surfer from Southern California in one of the last small housing developments along the road.

The entire drive, as the sun was slowly descending toward the western horizon (and not over the ocean as I'm so accustomed to seeing back home) I watched the surf. The blue-green waves rolling around the rocky points near Nine Palms and Shipwrecks brought butterflies to my stomach.

We watched the sun set and the moon rise from the beach below the condo, watching as JT and Jade went for a swim, struggling with the shorebreak and the undertow. 

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 22

El Arco to San Ignacio

JT and I bid farewell to Greg and Guy and we turned our front tires for Vizcaino. Leading out of town is one small dirt road signaled by a hand painted and very faded sign. I glanced at the GPS and thought the 22 miles would go by fast as the road was very easy on our bikes. Not more than a mile into the trip, patches of sand began to appear. At first they were very short stretches and not to terrible. These sand patches began to appear more and more frequently, were of longer duration, and had deeper sand. I found myself gripping the bars tighter and tighter. The strain and discomfort in my muscles of my shoulders began to creep in and I felt like one large, knotted ball of fibers.

The only relief came when we would hit good stretches of road and I could relax a bit. On one of these, I was admiring the desert beauty when I hit a patch of sand, did the swerving thing several times as I tried to right myself, then slowed to about two miles per hour and lost control of the bike. I was pitched from the bike into the sandy road, luckily completely unharmed. I stood up, looked at the bike for damage (none), then looked for JT. All I saw was a dust cloud. The desert swallowed him up.

I quickly righted the bike and set off to find JT. We have a rule about trails. When one arrives at a fork, he is to stop and wait for the other. I arrived at a section that split off into three roads all seemingly paralleling the others. JT was not there. Which one did he take? Why didn't he stop and wait for me? Which one should I take? My mind raced.

In the Baja desert, it is very common for the locals to "make" their own side road so as to get off of the ruts, washboards, and deep sand. Maybe this was the case here? Nelson and Goldman were expert trackers and it is well recorded that their tracking abilities had saved their lives several times. So, thinking like them, I dismounted and set about to find JT's tracks. There were several other bikers on the road previous to us and we had marveled about how they were able to negotiate the sand pockets.

The tread patterns on our bikes are strikingly different, however, and it didn't take too long before I found which road JT had taken. It was the road on the far right. Interestingly, the middle and right roads did rejoin and that was the correct road to Vizcaino. If we had taken the road to the left, who knows where we would be.

It took a while, but we managed to get back to the highway and into Vizcaino for Kenny's Fish Tacos. We arrived at noon, just the right time for the best fish tacos in all of Baja. When we saw that Kenny's taco truck was not where it was always parked, we noted a new store and parking lot in its place. We set out to drive up and down to main road in town to find him, but struck out. He wasn't at his house either. Bummer!

We settled for tacos from another vendor nearby and made the decision to push on to San Ignacio. The wind was blowing at about 20 knots, dust was being kicked up, and we were tired. San Ignacio it was.

We found a room at the Desert Inn amid the beautiful date palms and lagoons. We needed a shower, means to charge all of our cameras and electronics, and to download and send data. Well, the power was out in the entire pueblo. No power to charge equipment. This also meant no water, since most of the town relies on pumps for their water.

We were saved several hours later and we proceeded to take care of business.

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 21

To Goldman Peak

Edward William Nelson bestowed (in my mind) the ultimate honor to his respected colleague, naming a prominent peak after his friend and partner, Edward Alphonso Goldman. This peak lies just north and east of the Santa Gertrudis Mission and slightly north of the 28th parallel of latitude. Nelson described it as being near 5,000 feet of elevation. 

The crew, consisting of JT, Todd, Greg, and Guy headed up one of the old mission trails (one branch of the El Camino Real) toward Goldman Peak. This trail was built during the mission times and was, in spots, well worn and well engineered. We passed many species of cacti, saw numerous species of birds, and had some amazing views of the surrounding mountains, canyons, and geology. We passed two areas where the forefathers of today's local rancheros had built stacked rock walls to keep in or out their stock. 

On the return trip we somehow got separated. JT and I were in front, followed by Greg, then by Guy. JT and I arrived at the last significant geographical feature along the trail and decided to wait for the others. Greg arrived a few minutes later and we waited for Guy to arrive. After 20 minutes or so in the sweltering heat, Greg offered to stay behind and wait for Guy and suggested that JT and I head back to the mission, our vehicles, and more importantly, water! 

Greg stayed back for another 15 minutes and waited for Guy before he became concerned and decided to hike back up the trail and begin a series of loud yells in an attempt to get Guy's attention. Several yells later, Greg heard a reply. Too far off in the distance to understand the meaning, he continued up the trail. Rounding a corner, Greg intercepts a local caballero (cowboy), Alonzo, who was riding a mule while out checking on his cattle.

Alonzo had not seen Guy and the two began to look for any sign of our lost amigo. They tracked footprints in an arroyo that the trail crossed and started to follow the size 10 tracks until the sand gave way to gravel. A plan was devised and they decided to split up sending Greg back up to the trail and down to the mission. Alonzo was to follow the arroyo and the two would meet up at the mission. Alonzo assured Greg that all was well as he has spent his life in these mountains, could track just about anything, and had rescued many gringos from near death. 

Soon after parting, Alonzo found another footprint of Guy's and not more than a meter away was a fat, coiled rattlesnake. His worst fears began to well up inside him as he feared that our friend Guy may have also crossed paths with this desert viper. The terrain from then on was not conducive to tracking a single person wearing vibram-soled walking shoes, but Alonzo pushed onward expecting the worst of outcomes.

JT and I had been been at the mission for nearly 45 minutes when Guy strolls into the compound without a care in the world. He never saw Greg, but admitted that he heard yelling and at one point, yelled back, but could not figure out the direction or the message being yelled. The canyon walls tend to play tricks on sound when in the bottom of an arroyo. 

Concern gave way to a new plan. I would hike back up to the last known location for Greg and see if I could find him to give him the word that Guy was OK. Minutes later Greg walked into the compound and clearly was relieved to see that Guy was alive and unharmed. Alonzo rode in 15 minutes later and was also relieved and proceeded to tell a story about a woman that was bit by a rattler several years earlier and needed a helicopter search and rescue to get her to safety. 

We had the most lively conversation that night while sitting around the campfire. We told stories of the day, joked about what Greg would have to say to Sandy (Guy's gal) about loosing him, and about the adventure we had on the way to Goldman Peak.

Scientific director Greg Meyer in a giant cordon.

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 20

Bahia de los Angeles to Santa Gertrudis Mission

The day started off as a huge honor for us as a film crew. We had the pleasure of sitting down for breakfast and an interview with author Graham Mackintosh. He was in town and was excited to meet us and generous with his time. Graham is the author of four adventure books about Baja. His first, and most famous, is about his experience as he walked the entire perimeter of the Baja peninsula: Into a Desert Place. Truly an honor to meet him and talk Baja. During our trips over the years we recount his stories, having been to many of the places he visited during his trek. 

Producer Todd and Director JT with Author and Baja Storyteller Graham Mackintosh.

With a nearly 200-mile day ahead of us, we drove out of town and headed into the hills.

The road to Santa Gertrudis starts with a "straight as an arrow" gravel road from Highway 1 to El Arco (22 miles). It took every bit of concentration that JT and I had to keep the bikes upright and moving. The recent winter rains had created numerous "canyon" type wash-outs that would have swallowed one of us whole without issue.

The Mission Santa Gertrudis is one of the least visited missions in all of Baja. For good reason! It is a long, dusty, washboarded, and rutted drive to get to this mini oasis. Water rises to the surface and flows down the canyon a short distance before disappearing into the sand several hundred yards down the arroyo. Fan palms dominate this spot and at first glance appeared to be paradise as far as a camping spot was concerned. A closer inspection revealed that the local population of cows had taken over.

The bell tower at Santa Gertrudis Mission

Oasis near Santa Gertrudis Mission

We arrived at "magic hour" as JT likes to put it. For filming purposes, it is the hour leading up to sunset. A quick film shoot about and in the mission was the order and we set off to find a camp spot. We were directed to a spot just downstream and headed out of the mission compound with a tag-a-long, self-imposed, and honorary member of the film crew: a dog named Leroy, a pit-bull terrier with a great disposition that just wanted to hang with us for a while. Leroy had a purpose! His job was to wake up every hour or so and bark at, bother, or just annoy what ever animal or sound was in the arroyo. Thanks, Leroy!

JT with Leroy

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 19

Bahia de los Angeles

Jose Mercade was, once again, a host that continues to give and provide. He offered his boat to us for a late morning and early afternoon cruise of the bay. The time between when he opened up the garage door to launch was about 20 minutes. His house sits on the bay and he has his own launch ramp. 

His panga was perfect for our tour and soon we found a small pod of bottlenose dolphins. They played about the bow of our boat for nearly 15 minutes and JT got some great footage of them. They soon tired and fell back to do their thing.

We were on the outside of the first row of islands, just east of Horsehead Island, when we shut down the motor just to soak up the tranquil, windless, and glassy conditions of the water. Suddenly we heard the unmistakable sound of a whale's exhale. We were blessed to experience a single finback whale in a series of feeding dives. After each dive the whale would swim a circle near us with between 10 and 15 surface breaths before diving deep.

In the afternoon, we were lucky to have two great interviews. The first was the great grandson of Dick Dagget Sr. at his RV and fishing camp just north of town. He had invited his mother, Doña Trina Dagget. Dick Dagget was an Englishman that had jumped ship in the 1880s and had made a name for himself in this part of Baja. Nelson and Goldman had negotiated with him in San Quintin to purchase supplies when they arrived at his mine (The King Richard Mine) near Calamajue. When they arrived, the mine was empty and boarded up. Being skilled trackers, they found tracks leading away from the mine and found the party on the beach of a small bay. Their own supplies had run out and a misunderstanding about the timing of the new supply ship caused them to survive on turtle meat, fish, and wild honey for over a month.

Dick Dagget saved the lives of Nelson and Goldman. The younger Dagget was impressed by the story and was happy to connect with us. Doña Trina was a lively and energetic interviewee. She spoke only in Spanish and most of what she said went over our heads. She was missing most of her front teeth so her speach was off a little too. We will have to wait until the translation is complete to really know what she had to say. I can't wait!

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 18

To Playa San Rafael

One of our major goals of this trip was to visit and interview our friend Pancho at Playa San Rafael. He lives a simple life on a bluff overlooking the beach with spectacular views of the islands offshore. To get to his house is a 47-mile run on a very washboarded road through the desert. 

The last time we saw him was in 2013 and he was elated when we removed our helmets to reveal our identities after we rode up. "Siempre recuerdo!" he told us. I remember, always. Immediately he ran into his house to fetch three ice cold beers. His generator was humming away keeping his refrigerator and freezer working. His house is a very clean "shack" with many amenities and upgrades. His life is simple, and he has many friends that help him out.

Todd, Pancho, and JT, reunited. 

Our visit was wonderful and we exchanged gifts (Pancho and I have been doing this for over 22 years now). We gave him a bottle of tequila, a shirt, stickers, and a bandana. He gave me a book about the Baja Missions. Our interview with him was better than we expected and we had a great visit. Pancho asked that when we come down next to bring him a DVD player. He has a flat screen TV and a number of DVDs he'd like to watch.

On our return, we stopped at the old Las Flores mine to film. All that is left are several piles of tailings and a rock walled jail.

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 17

Yubay to Bahia de los Angeles

The decision of the day was to load JT and his camera equipment into Greg's truck and they would head up to Yubay while Todd stayed behind to keep the bikes secure and safe. They had a great trip and enjoyed the area, the tinaja, and met a couple of local cowboys. 

Meanwhile, Todd was left in the desert to bake in the 91-degree temperatures, with no wind and the only the shade cast by a few cordon cacti, a cirio, and a weak acacia tree. I drank all my water, explored the area, played hide-and-go-seek with a quail, and took several naps while waiting for the guys to return.

That evening we were welcomed at the house of Jose Mercade in Bahia de los Angeles. We swam in the bay, took a shower, and enjoyed a quiet evening. We slept on foldout cots next to the bay, a cool breeze coming off the water. Thanks, Jose, for the hospitality!

Panga in Bahia de los Angeles.

"The Devil's Road" Main Expedition, Day 16

Bahia de los Angels to Yubay

JT and I had a lazy morning while we finished packing our bikes. We needed to meet Greg and Guy at Yubay that night, so we set off out of town with full tanks of gas, plenty of water, and a little extra food. Before leaving town, we stopped and had lunch at Alejandrina's Restaurant and had a great meal. 

We turned off the main road onto the road to Yubay (we thought) and headed out into the desert. Soon after leaving the tarmac we got bogged down with sand. Then we were in the rocks and the going was better. After about 5 miles we began watching the GPS arrow indicator wanting to send us in a different direction. We came upon an abandoned mine and the road disappeared. We consulted the map and figured we turned off the main road too soon, so we turned around.

Once we were on the right road to Yubay, we quickly found ourselves in deep sand again. Figuring we were ahead of Greg and Guy, we decided to camp out until they arrived and spend the night right there. Greg and Guy agreed with our assessment of the road conditions and we moved camp up next to the rocks. We had a great fire, several beers and cracked open a bottle of red wine as the sun was setting. What a perfect night to relax and figure out our next move.