David's Baja Journal: Playa Tecolote--paddling, cleanup, and desert hike

Sunday, Feb . 26

Today, I took a much deserved rest—like an old dog, lying in the sun on the porch. I just lay in the trailer, listening to music on my Ipod for much of the day. In the morning, I took a brief stroll around the beach, and noticed the immense amount of trash strewn about in the desert behind the beach. I was even half-heartedly thinking I should organize a volunteer party to pick some of it up. But it seemed futile, if the Mexicans didn’t seem to care.

But then around 11:00 am, I noticed what looked like a group of Mexicans in the desert behind the beach, equipped with sacks—could they be cleaning up? I approached one very neatly groomed young man, working with a sack and his young son, who couldn’t be older than 5 or 6.

I chatted with him, and found out about his efforts. The cleanup was organized by Banco Azteca and Radio Azteca, two companies apparently owned by a man who cares about litter. Employees of the company go out twice a year on cleanup days. If there are other volunteers--not employees--so much the better. He agreed that a culture change was needed to prevent litter like what occurred here on the beach. He pointed to his son and said: “There’s the hope.” We have to set an example for the younger generation.”

So I joined them in their cleanup for about 45 minutes, working alone, because they went off in another direction away from my trailer. When I finished it was nearly noon, and getting very hot. I went looking for the group to get a photo, but they had all disappeared. Finally, I found four of them resting by the beach under a palm-leaf sunshade, and asked them if they’d pose for a photo. They agreed.

In the afternoon, four Mexican sport fisherman in a small boat with their catch. They had a quantity of “sierras,” very sleek fish about 2-3 feet long that look like “racing salmon,” a small barracuda, and a parrot fish. The oldest man (of course) was cleaning the fish, and a large number of California gulls plus a pelican were hanging around, very close, waiting for the guts.

When the cleanings from each fish were ready, they fought over the tidbits. The pelican got first choice, but usually a gull would snatch something protruding from his bill, and then the rest would fight over tidbits. After a while, two frigate birds arrived. They never landed, but hovered waiting—very keen-eyed. When they saw the guts were nearly ready, they would come lower. At this point, the man cleaning the fish would toss up the guts, and one of the frigate birds would catch them in mid-air. They are consummate acrobats.

I chatted with the fishermen. The older man was retired, but the occupations of two of the other three were carpenter and a government sports official. They offered me a fish, but I declined.

One of them asked me how long I had been at the beach. I said three days, and maybe three more. He said maybe I would see the UFOs—the extraterrestrials (“omnis,” the Mexicans call them). I chuckled, but he was serious. A bit later, I asked one of the others about the omnis, and he said: “Don’t ask me, ask him,” referring to the man who had brought up the subject.

Happy Baja sportsman

The boat was a very beat up aluminum dingy, and the trailer like something from a junk yard. No winch or rollers. But when time came to put the boat on the trailer, we all gave a heave-ho, and—no problem. Their fishing tackle seemed up to the task. Mexicans put their funds where it matters.

The wind had been light, and the temperature hot all day. So about two hours before sundown, I began to get ready for a sunset paddle. I had to unload much of my excess gear from yesterday, and of course, the RV neighbors wanted to chat as I worked. So I didn’t get off till about an hour before sundown. But it was shaping up to be a spectacular sunset, with lots of high cirrus clouds. Often, the sky is so clear that all you get in Baja for a sunset is deepening shades of pastel.

Because today was Sunday, many Mexicans were enjoying the beach. Dragging my kayak to the water’s edge, I had to pass one romantic couple who had driven their pickup close to the water, were playing mariachi-style music at top volume, and dancing in the sand. Others were picnicking, driving ATVs on the beach, a jet-ski on the water, or arriving for supper on the beach.

I decided to go west around the point and to a deserted beach I had seen earlier.

On the way, I tried out my new kayak sail, and it worked fairly well.

A spectacular sunset ensued, and I took many photos. Once it was too dark for photos, the wind changed direction and freshened. I started paddling hard, sprinting through the deepening purple dark, feeling the wind on my face, feeling like a sprinting dolphin. My muscles have toughened enough that it feels effortless the sprint through the water, at least on a short trip.

As I headed back, a large fish at least 2-3 feet long, darted at astonishing speed in front of my kayak. It was brightly luminous, or perhaps it was reflecting the light of the crescent moon.

As I rounded the point and headed back along Tecolote beach, first I passed a group of men who had built a bonfire in a cave. They didn’t see me pass by in the dark.

The wind was from the beach. Next, a series of aromas announced themselves to me in succession down the beach. Wood smoke… a woman’s perfume… barbecue. Then as I passed a beach restaurant: the smell of a grill… garbage… toilets… auto exhaust.

A large white boat at anchor loomed in the dark—a panga for tourists. At the last moment I saw and ducked under the anchor rope, only to have it catch on the rudder of the kayak. Since my trailer had no lights on, it wasn’t easy to find it on the beach—but I did, since, I’m beginning to be at home on this beach.

Since my return from the island, the trailer looks like a volcano that has erupted clothes and camping gear.

Monday, Feb. 28

I spent a lazy day mostly in the trailer. In the afternoon, I cleaned up completely, then headed to town just before dark. I went to my favorite taco joint—Super Burro-- where I can pick up wi-fi from the coffee shop across the street. But the internet wasn’t working reliably. After about an hour, I got on for a few minutes, but then it was off again.

I was going to email a couch surfer to meet me there, so I sent to the counter to ask their address. The owner Gustavo came out to greet me, and gave me his card. We exchanged a few pleasantries, and I remarked about the colorful décor. Gustavo was also decked out in a very colorful combination, with a bright red apron.

After supper, I cruised around town looking for wi-fi places, but surprisingly, found none. So I headed for the Malecon, where I did find Café Exquisito, and upscale coffee shop with a reliable connection, open till 11:00 pm.

Tuesday, Feb. 29

Again, a lazy day in the trailer, organizing things and listening to podcasts. Today is very cool, and mostly overcast—unusual for Baja. A brisk wind from the North brings cool air from across the Sea of Cortez—a good day for an inland hike into the mountains.

So around 2:00 pm I headed inland several miles. I found the walking easy, though I had to make many detours around islands of thorny plants, and keep a sharp watch for spines. I saw no animal life except for a blur of a lizard and a few vultures--although I know that jackrabbits, numerous spiders, and hummingbirds occur here in number. No snakes.

Eventually I found my way to a ridge with a spectacular view, overlooking a prosperous ranch--very different from the ones in the US.

All the land I traversed is grazed. Up to the fence of the ranch, it seemed heavily grazed, as the ground between clumps of cactus was completely barren--and there were many horse droppings.

Inside the fence of the ranch, there was some dried grass, and more of another golden-colored, dried plant. Both sides were grazed, but inside the ranch, less so.

Overall, I enjoyed looking at the exotic trees from this thorn forest, plus looking for "cactus personalities." Some of the photos follow:

There are at least three species of trees with the same form: low, fleshy trunk and branches, smooth bark, and droopy branches. This one has yellow, peeling bark.