We enjoyed one more delightful morning sitting on the beach next to the motorhome, drinking our coffee. At sunrise, Comet took Janice for a walk to the shoreline. She walked right up to the edge, then jumped back as the waves slowly crept toward her. She seemed just as mesmerized by this beautiful place as we were.
Our neighbors, Karen and Eric from Olympia, Washington, came over to say goodbye. Janice gave them her Umpqua Watersheds business card after writing the link to our blog on the back. We invited them to call us anytime they are in our area when we return home.
We packed up and headed for our next stop: 4 Points RV Park in Ciudad Insurgentes. We met Juan and Pedro Pacinni three years ago and have stayed at their campground both on the way to Cabo Pulmo and on the return journey.
As we creaked along the twisting, sandy six-kilometer wagon road back to the highway from Santa Inés, it once again felt like we were part of a wagon train, moving no faster than if we were in a horse-drawn vehicle. We spotted a hawk, but I didn’t stop in time for Janice to grab her binoculars. The cactus, the mountains ahead, and the ocean behind us deepened our appreciation for the adventure.
We reached Highway 1 and proceeded at about 40 miles per hour toward the small town of Mulegé. The road was full of twists and turns as we climbed steep mountains and wound our way along the rugged terrain. At one point, we passed an aqua-blue “Hotel California” perched above the road, complete with steps leading up to it.
Along the way, we passed several roadside memorials, simple crosses marking places where lives were lost. At one particularly sharp turn, we came upon five crosses. These moments are sobering reminders of the risks of the road, but they also feel like expressions of a deeper cultural belief, that those who came before us remain present in some way.
We have never stopped in Mulegé, though we’ve considered staying at a campground just south of town. It appears to be a popular tourist destination, with hotels, restaurants, and signs promoting outdoor recreation. Perhaps we will visit on our way home, though it feels more oriented toward consumption than the simplicity and connection we seek.
After Mulegé, the next major town is Loreto. The road between the two was the roughest we have encountered on this trip, filled with potholes that required constant attention and slow navigation. It’s essential to watch your mirrors carefully for vehicles coming up behind as you weave around the damaged sections. Fortunately, southbound traffic was light, allowing us to meander through safely.
We continued through Loreto and turned west toward Ciudad Insurgentes, climbing into the Sierra La Giganta. Once again, we followed a truck slowly crawling up the mountain. After what felt like twenty minutes, the road finally leveled out, and for the next sixty miles, the highway stretched straight ahead. I stayed comfortably behind the truck, letting faster cars pass. Eventually, I overtook it when another truck approached from behind.
In three years of traveling these roads, we’ve only had one incident, during our first year, when a truck passed unsafely north of Guerrero Negro and clipped our driver-side mirror. Fortunately, I was able to move slightly right, avoiding more severe damage.
We arrived at 4 Points around 1 p.m. Juan, who also runs a trucking business, had a truck and trailer parked in front of our usual spot, being power-washed. We had lunch, waited for them to finish, then pulled in and set up camp.
4 Points offers electricity, water, a dump station, hot showers, and excellent Wi-Fi, so for the first time since leaving home, we had all the comforts of modern living. Juan was taking a siesta when we arrived, so we quietly settled in, took showers, and relaxed under the beautiful palapa, enjoying a gentle breeze on a low eighty-degree afternoon.
As always, Juan continues improving the campground, expanding the patio, planting palm trees and flowers, and now beginning construction on a small in-ground pool. A worker and his son arrived and began stacking bags of concrete and rebar nearby. I am always struck by how much care and effort people put into everyday work here, often with simple tools and methods.
Eventually, Juan came out and greeted us warmly with a handshake and a hug. He speaks excellent English. In his 30s, he has an eight-year-old son named Tony. When we complimented him on all he has accomplished, he responded humbly, “We will see.”
Later, his father, Pedro, stopped by. At 63, tall and steady, he was born on the farm that once encompassed this land. He lives just a few hundred yards behind the campground, in a small home we’ve visited several times.
I’ll never forget one of our earlier visits. We had picked up a nail in our tire in La Paz, three hours away, on Good Friday, when all the repair shops were closed. We arrived at 4 Points just before sunset. Juan assured us he would find someone in the morning. Sure enough, early Easter morning, someone came and repaired the tire for $5. Later that day, Juan invited us to a family barbecue. Surrounded by cousins, aunts, and uncles, we shared food and laughter. I told Pedro, “Ahora somos amigos para toda la vida.” He replied in English, “No… now we are your family in Mexico.”
That moment will always stay with me.
Tony and his friend Eddie, the worker’s son, came to play with the dogs. Rusty and Tad remembered each other from last year. Eddie, who is 11, was curious, and I did my best to communicate in Spanish about our travels. Neither he nor Tony speaks English, but somehow, we understood each other just fine.
Later, Juan told me that he and his family would be heading to Ligüí for the four-day Semana Santa weekend. He said we were welcome to stay and keep an eye on the campground while they were away. He never charges us full price, usually $10 instead of $30 per night.
We are humbled by his generosity and by the way he and his family make us feel not like visitors, but like we belong.
Closing Reflection
As we sit beneath the palapa, feeling the warm breeze and listening to the quiet rhythm of this place, we are reminded that the true richness of travel is not found in destinations, but in relationships. Roads can be rough, uncertain, and even dangerous, but they also lead to people who remind us what it means to be human. In these moments of connection, across language and culture, we find something deeper than adventure… we find belonging.
For reference here is our Easter miracle blog from 2024 for the thousands of you following along 😉 P.S. For those who are following along, Thank you!
https://dustytrailswagontrain.blogspot.com/2024/03/day-26-getting-to-know-locals.html?fbclid=IwdGRzaAQ5ItBjbGNrBDkitGV4dG4DYWVtAjExAHNydGMGYXBwX2lkDDM1MDY4NTUzMTcyOAABHrsLLFRxb68GXTMoeGEOXCqTEkN6wS_RVBOAL-EG3XxmoEFf8HfmM0TBWbcc_aem_wwz5TtSaN-OCrPJ1MApsMw&m=1
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