April 15 –Day 43: A Wonder-Filled Day

We woke a little before 6 a.m. to the sound of the awning rattling in a gentle breeze. Unsure whether the wind would pick up, we scrambled out of bed to roll it in. As we stepped outside the motorhome, we were greeted by the first blush of a stunning sunrise. Rather than heeding the call of slumber, we made coffee and sat beneath the palapa, enchanted by the sunrise unfolding over calm seas.

Afterward, I tried to catch a bit more sleep—I’d been up since 2 a.m., my mind preoccupied with the woes of the world. Janice took Tad for a walk down the beach and struck up a conversation with one of the campers. His name is Buck, and he’s from Bend, Oregon. I met him the day before—tall, slender, with long white hair. When he said “Ora-gone” instead of “Ora-gun,” I had a hunch he wasn’t a native Oregonian. Janice later confirmed he was originally from Santa Cruz. Their conversation was long and mostly one-sided.

Janice sensed that he seemed lonely. He told her he envied our ability to travel together. She guessed he was around 70. Buck travels in a white pickup with a travel trailer he bought for $4,000—he feels he was ripped off because the roof leaks. He’s accompanied by a small shepherd-looking dog with a golden coat who barked at Lincoln when he got too close last night.

Buck mentioned he’s a multimillionaire and admitted to being “paranoid” about people taking advantage of him. He said the “Mexicans” hassle him because of his long hair, and that it’s falling out because of minerals in the water. Apparently, when asked at the bank where his money comes from, he jokes that he’s a cartel drug lord.

As we were preparing to leave, Buck took off in his truck. Not long after, the little dog—whom I named Duradita ("Little Golden One")—came bounding over to the boys, a long rope trailing behind her. She approached me shyly, allowing me to pet her, then played a game of “chase me” with Tad. She followed us to the water, where the boys swam before our departure. Duradita waded in but darted away when Lincoln got too close, which was odd—Lincoln’s never aggressive. When we returned to the office, we thanked the owner, who promptly corralled Duradita. Apparently, this wasn’t her first escape.

We headed out toward our next destination: San Ignacio. The drive was slow and winding through the mountains, trailing behind two semis at tram speed. I didn’t mind—it gave me time to take in the dramatic scenery and navigate the potholes with care.

When we arrived at our campground in San Ignacio, we were warmly welcomed by the friendly owner. It's a beautiful place, nestled among palm trees, with steep hills and lava deposits in the backdrop. We set up camp. Janice took a shower and a nap. I had a cerveza and a Zoom call with my son Nick, who lives with his wife and three kids in Minnesota. We usually talk weekly during his hour-long commute home. It’s truly amazing to feel so connected despite the 3,000 miles between us.

Later, I wandered the two blocks into town in search of the pueblo’s only ATM. This time, I struck gold—4,000 pesos! It felt like a win. As the sun began to set, Janice and I walked hand in hand into town. We found a cozy little restaurant tucked off a side street. The folks there had helped me find the ATM earlier, and it felt right to return the kindness by dining there.

We enjoyed margaritas and, hands down, some of the best food we’ve had yet. I ordered the especial, which turned out to be marinated raw tuna and shrimp—absolutely fantastic. We walked back through the town square hand in hand, immersed in a magical evening—gentle breeze, the aroma of food cooking, Mexican music playing, and children laughing nearby. It was the perfect end to a day full of wonder.

One last thing I want to share: San Ignacio recently endured a bad fire, fueled by high winds. We were deeply concerned for the town and for our friends at Paraiso Misional Campground. Thankfully, the town and campground were spared from major damage, though several palm trees near the campground were scorched.

Before leaving, I wrote a message with the help of my thinking buddy, Sage from ChatGPT, to share with our friends:

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Querida familia del Paraiso Misional,

Con mucho cariño queremos agradecerles por compartir este lugar tan hermoso con nosotros. Cada vez que visitamos San Ignacio, nos sentimos como en casa gracias a su hospitalidad, su amabilidad y la paz que se respira aquí.

Este oasis es un verdadero tesoro en el corazón del desierto—no solo por su belleza natural, sino por la calidez humana que ustedes ofrecen a todos los que llegan. Para nosotros, este lugar representa descanso, conexión y gratitud.

Gracias por cuidar este espacio con tanto amor y por recibirnos con una sonrisa. Esperamos volver una y otra vez, y llevarnos siempre un pedacito de San Ignacio en el corazón.

Con aprecio y amistad,

Kasey y Janice

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Dear Paraiso Misional family,

We warmly thank you for sharing this beautiful place with us. Every time we visit San Ignacio, we feel at home thanks to your hospitality, your kindness, and the peace that surrounds it.

This oasis is a true treasure in the heart of the desert—not only for its natural beauty, but also for the warmth you offer to all who visit. For us, this place represents rest, connection, and gratitude.

Thank you for caring for this space with such love and for always welcoming us with a smile. We hope to return again and again, always carrying a little piece of San Ignacio in our hearts.

With appreciation and friendship,

Kasey and Janice

Day 42: April 14 – Dogs, Dolphins, and One Adventure Cat

Yesterday we landed at the Santa Inés RV camping spot on the Gulf of California, just north of Mulegé, Baja—and what a beautiful spot it is. This morning, as soon as I opened the door to let the dogs out, the sunrise stopped me in my tracks. Glorious is the only word for it. I had planned to crawl back into bed after the morning potty routine, but the sky, the sea, and the gentle hush of the day had other plans.

 Comet was wide-eyed and ready, so we all stayed out to greet the morning together, watching pelicans glide silently past and poking around the shore.

Today really belonged to Comet. She spent most of it outside, basking in the sun and shedding in great, fluffy waves. I brushed her thoroughly, sending tufts of fur floating away on the breeze. Hopefully, some lucky birds will find it perfect for their nests.

Eventually, Kasey joined us. Out on the water, we spotted dolphins—dark and sleek, the common bottlenose kind. They danced through the surface, splashing and circling in a kind of marine ballet, maybe even mating. They weren’t far from shore, but only a tiny dot showed up in our photos.

For breakfast, Kasey whipped up scrambled eggs on those fresh tortillas we’d picked up. Simple and delicious.

The rest of the day flowed gently, like the tide. We relaxed, chatted, and watched a group of turkey vultures gather around a dead pelican not far from camp. The dogs were thoroughly entertained.

We made a few phone calls, including a nice chat with Kasey’s sister Lynn. We also tackled a bit of Umpqua Watersheds business—emails, phone calls, and a good conversation with John Dyer about the radio station’s range expansion. Hearing the familiar voices of friends and family reminded me how sweet connection can be, even from afar.

The sea was relatively calm in the afternoon, so Kasey launched his drone. I’ll add pictures later—they’re still trapped in the tablet—but I can report that one gull was not impressed. It voiced its disapproval with a few squawks and escorted the drone like a tiny air traffic controller.

In the afternoon,I found a splash of tequila in the bottle and got creative. Two limes from the fridge, a splash of vanilla, some orange drink, water, ice, and the tequila came together in what I’m now calling the “Santa Inés Margarita.” The vanilla made it sing.

We took short walks along the beach—well, most of us did. Tad, true to form, wasn’t much for walking with us. He was a blur on his own missions, dashing a quarter mile down the sand and swimming a little, though not venturing too far out, thank goodness.

As darkness fell, we lit a small campfire, then made burritos inside. Just as we were winding down, the moon rose over the eastern ocean, golden and luminous, casting a pathway of light across the water like a celestial lantern.

It was the perfect end to a peaceful day. I have a feeling we’ll find our way back here someday.

Day 41 - April 13: From Friends to Moonlight: A Journey to Playa Santa Inés

We packed up early, and Tad had one last joyful romp with his buddy Rusty before we said heartfelt goodbyes to our dear friend Juan. With the dogs settled and the rig ready, we rolled out of Ciudad Insurgentes heading north toward Playa Santa Inés, just past Mulegé.

The highway south of Insurgentes is a long, straight ribbon of pavement—until the mountains rise to meet you. While the road is mostly in good shape, stretches riddled with potholes kept me on my toes (and my speed around 50 mph). I was even able to use the cruise control for a while, which helps keep my foot from growing heavy—though the narrow, shoulder-less road ensures that any speed increase is met with gentle alarms from the passenger seat. Thankfully, Janice hasn’t had to use her famous pig Latin this year: “Lowsa heta uckfa ownda, Aseyka!”

Driving in Baja requires a kind of rhythm—always keeping an eye on the side mirror for faster drivers. It’s custom here to slow down and flash your left turn signal to let others know it’s safe to pass. It usually works like a charm. That said, we had one hair-raising moment last year when a semi clipped our driver-side mirror during a miscalculated pass on a rough stretch north of Guerrero Negro. No damage—just adrenaline, crumpled nerves, and slightly stained underwear. Thankfully, nothing like that this year.

As we climbed into the Sierra de la Giganta, the landscape transformed. Steep grades and hairpin turns demanded full attention, especially with the occasional pothole thrown in for good measure. Broken guardrails and roadside memorials were sobering reminders that these roads don’t suffer fools.

In Loreto, we made a quick stop—and finally, success! After days of trying, I was able to get some pesos from an ATM. Turns out, our bank merger delayed card access, but it finally worked today. Just in time.

By the time we reached Mulegé, we were ready for lunch and stopped at Señor Gecko’s, where we were warmly welcomed by the owner, Saul. We had the place to ourselves. Janice ordered three shrimp tacos, and I went with three fish tacos—both meals were enormous and incredibly tasty.

We passed our usual beach spot, Playa Santispac (Mucho-packed), but it was packed wall-to-wall. That made us even more thankful we’d decided to try somewhere new: Playa Santa Inés.

We weren’t quite sure what to expect as we turned onto a sandy, twisting road that led us three miles out to the Santa Inés Trailer Park. When we arrived, we were greeted warmly by the family who owns the campground—several generations strong. No one spoke English, so I got to put my Spanish to good use. We chose to stay two nights at $300 pesos per night (about $15 USD). Unfortunately, I had already spent over half our pesos at Señor Gecko’s, and while they don’t accept cards, the family graciously agreed to take dollars.

For the record, “Trailer Park” here doesn’t mean rows of RVs. Instead, we found a series of palapa-covered campsites spread out along the beach, each with a water spigot and incredible views. The office had bathrooms, hot showers, WiFi, and a nearby dump station. Simple, clean, and just what we needed.

We set up camp, the sea stretching out before us and a cactus-studded desert rising behind. As the sun dipped behind the mountains, we took Lincoln and Tad for a long beach walk, followed by a swim in the gentle waves.

And just before bed, we couldn’t resist one more walk—this time under a full moon rising over the Sea of Cortez. The tide rolled in, the waves crashing under silver light, and once again we were reminded how deeply fortunate we are to experience the beauty and wonderment of the Baja Peninsula.

Day 40: April 12 Ciu. Insurgentes and Lopez Mateo.

At 4 Point Lodging and RV in Ciudad Insurgentes, we’ve found a very welcoming and comfortable place. Tad had a blast playing with Rusty, and another dog showed up—skinny and shy, clearly a mother. Sure enough, we spotted some puppies roaming near the shop.

 I didn’t bother shooing her away. Pedro told me she’s not Juan’s dog, so I refrained from feeding her, though it was hard not to. Poor thing. Meanwhile, Rusty and Tad were roughhousing enough to earn some disapproving looks from Comet.

I spent some time uploading plant sightings to iNaturalist—so many different species! Juan has planted more since last year, adding a nice splash of color around the RV area.

With a forecast near 100°F, we decided to take the motorhome to the coast where we’d gone for a boat ride three weeks ago. The place was nearly empty when we arrived. Although the restaurants were closed, a parking attendant managed to extort 100 pesos from us. Still, it was worth it to have a secure spot. With no one around, the dogs were free to swim—and swim they did.

 Tad swam so far out, he was just a dot on the camera. No sharks, I hope! Even Lincoln joined in for a swim. The water was warm, probably because it’s a shallow bay. The tide was going out, and in some areas, Tad was running through just a few inches of water.

We wandered around exploring and found some really nice beaches. There were a few spots where we could have camped overnight. Even our daytime parking spot could’ve worked, though the area just across the fence looked very safe too.

Once the dogs were all tired out, we pulled out the bikes and rode into town. I let Kasey lead the way—as you can see from the map, we were literally all over the place.

The town felt almost deserted. We later learned the Baja 250 off-road race was happening just outside of town. That explained the crowds we saw lining the route and the emptiness elsewhere.

We found a little restaurant by the river—quiet, with two young women ready to cook for us. Being so close to the ocean, seafood was the obvious choice. I had a shrimp quesadilla, and Kasey had two fish and shrimp tacos.

 Spanish-language music played in the background from a YouTube channel, adding to the atmosphere. A short ride later and we were back at the motorhome. The clouds were starting to roll in, so we returned to 4 Point RV. The dogs resumed their wrestling matches, and Kasey took turns keeping Rusty entertained.

A couple from Colorado pulled in for the night, and we pointed them toward Juan. They had heard about the place from iOverlander. Their vehicle looks like it could go anywhere, but for now they are here in a flat quiet spot before heading onto their next destination.

We ended the day with a card game—Kasey was out for redemption. We switched seats from last night, and I’m convinced that lucky chair was what gave him the win.

The boys were hungry and decided to share a bowl. A little competition ensures it gets emptied every time.

Day 39 – April 11: Back to Ciudad Insurgentes

We broke camp this morning, ready for the 200-mile journey to the 4 Points RV Park in Ciudad Insurgentes. We've gotten pretty efficient at preparing the motorhome for travel—while I loaded the e-bikes onto the rack, Janice converted the dining table into a cozy bed for Lincoln and Tad.

Before hitting the road, we had breakfast at the Big Fun Beach Club. We sat at a beachside table, watching the waves crash powerfully onto the shore. One particularly ambitious wave came within ten feet of us and completely drenched a woman sitting on the sand. The tide was going out, and within an hour it had receded nearly four feet. Yesterday, we saw a whale jumping out of the water several times but it didn't make an appearance today.

We both ordered the Mexicali omelet and coffee. The omelet was good... the coffee, not so much. It was Nescafé instant—horrible stuff. Janice joked about tackling our young waiter to let him know that Nescafé isn’t real coffee and tastes like an armpit. I gently suggested she avoid starting an international incident—or admitting she knows what an armpit tastes like.

After breakfast, we took Lincoln and Tad on a long walk along the beach. Janice strapped a life jacket on Tad in case he ventured too far into the surf. Both dogs had a blast. At one point, a wave knocked Lincoln off his feet, but I was right there to help him up. It’s hard watching him struggle with his arthritic back, but he’s a trooper who doesn’t want to miss out. When he needs help, we calmly support him and adapt as needed. He’s been with us nearly 14 years—longer than any other dog either of us has had—and we cherish every moment we get with him.

With the dogs worn out and happy, we climbed into the motorhome and carefully made our way along the bumpy, sandy road back to the highway. Just as we reached the main road, we encountered a sobering sight—an accident had occurred, and the National Guard was holding back traffic as emergency personnel tended to the scene. It looked critical and cast a solemn tone over the beginning of our five-hour drive.

We've seen hundreds of roadside memorials along the highways in Baja. The roads are narrow and often riddled with potholes. Unlike the simple crosses or flowers we often see in the U.S., memorials here are elaborate miniature houses, often decorated with flowers and personal touches—a beautiful, poignant tribute to lost lives.

Fortunately, the road from Los Cerritos Beach through Todos Santos is one of the best we've traveled in Baja. We reached La Paz and navigated the usual traffic tangles, tight turns, and confusing exits. We made a quick stop at Walmart for dog food and supplies, then got back on the road within the hour.

The stretch between La Paz and Ciudad Insurgentes has some rough patches, but we were relieved to find one of the worst sections had recently been repaved. Still, we had to carefully navigate a few gnarly areas. We've learned a lot since last year, and the stress levels have dropped significantly thanks to adjustments we've made. So far, no need to build any roadside mini houses for ourselves.

We arrived at the 4 Points RV Park just as the sun was setting. This is our fourth stay here, and Juan and Pedro—the father-son team who run the park—greeted us like old friends.

Juan had to dash off to his 7-year-old son's soccer game, so we didn’t get to catch up tonight. We settled into our usual spot by the palm trees and the large palapa. I made dinner, and Janice rewarded my efforts by defeating me in three straight games of Spite and Malice.

Day 38: April 10. Whales, Waves & Two-for-One Margaritas – A Day in Los Cerritos and Todos Santos

We started the day with no real plan. Lorena had the day off and invited us to join her for Zumba, but I wasn’t feeling particularly motivated for dance fitness. I was hoping we’d find another way to spend time together. But when I checked my morning texts, she’d gotten called in to work after all—so we pivoted.

With no agenda, we headed out to explore Los Cerritos Beach, a local surfing haven. The waves here are massive by Oregon standards—no wonder it draws surfers from all over. In the distance, we spotted whales breaching—some even coming halfway out of the water. They were too far for a good photo, but still magical to witness.

Los Cerritos is buzzing with activity. Vendors sell snacks, surf lessons are in full swing, and you can rent an umbrella or a cushy daybed for lounging. There’s beach volleyball and even cornhole (probably better called "sand bag toss" here). Some of the surfers were pulling off impressive tricks, catching air like pros—though one didn’t quite stick the landing.

The energy here is a stark contrast to the laid-back vibe of Cabo Pulmo. After enjoying a refreshing fruit bowl for breakfast, we pedaled back toward the motorhome that sita on the property Lorena has been working hard to clean up by removing trash and opening things up. You can really see the difference when compared to neighboring lots—she’s making a real impact.

We had hoped to make it to Todos Santos for lunch, but got a later start than planned—Kasey had a few things to handle. Still, the 10-mile ride only took about 40 minutes on the e-bikes (a bit faster than Google’s 52-minute estimate).

It was worth the trip. Though we’d originally planned to meet Lorena for lunch, our schedules didn’t line up, so we made plans to meet for dinner instead. Todos Santos is a charming little town with cobblestone streets, artisan vendors, and plenty of character. We stopped by a bike shop to see about getting screws for Kasey’s bike control panel—he’s lost two, and it’s starting to get a little wobbly. I always knew he had a screw loose!

We couldn’t resist the handmade ice cream at Nevería Rocca—I went with coconut, and Kasey had coffee and cherry vanilla. Afterwards, we popped into a bakery to grab a few goodies for breakfast before heading back to Lorena’s property.

 She lives in nearby El Pescadero, 5 minutes from where we are staying.

We spent some time relaxing around the motorhome but soon realized we were about to miss happy hour at the Big Fun Beach Club—two-for-one margaritas! The furniture here is made from repurposed pallets. Lorena was just getting off work and met us there for dinner and drinks. We had great conversations and got to hear more about her time in Cabo Pulmo.

While we were eating, Steve, a musician and chocolate-seller we met at Whitt’s End in Cabo Pulmo, showed up peddling his sweet treats again. Kasey wasted no time grabbing some. Lorena, excited to meet Steve, wants to learn guitar.

 She got his number for lessons, and by the end of the evening, she and Kasey made a pact: by next year, they’ll each learn a song—Lorena will play When I’m 64, and Kasey’s going to learn Imagine. Both Beatles classics.

This is a dog-friendly beach, so we’ll definitely be back in the morning—with or without a plan.