We recently took a short jaunt to Baja to catch some surf. Since I didn’t have Internet anywhere (no Internet + no cell service = a good thing), these are posted after our return. Enjoy!
NOTE: Although I am still posting travel writing to A Year In Trim, I’m slowly moving over to my main website, http://www.katybryce.com (an attempt to be more “professional”, as if). You can also subscribe to travel blog posts there.
I hadn’t had my passport stamped for over a year and I was getting uncomfortably itchy. Kind of like wearing a wool sweater with nothing underneath. Stifling itchy. Same house. Same food. Same desk. Time to leave. A Baja surf trip was in order.
It is a frigid 13 degrees when we packed up to leave. Chris climbs up on the top of the camper dressed in thick layers of Carhartts (full on Oregon and shit), strapping the surfboards to the rack in the brutal cold. Everything is frozen and our hands become bright red as we lift water jugs, buckets and our extra propane tank into the rig. We feel that we can’t get out of here quick enough.
As we head south, the sun is out, but the air is still cold, hovering around 30 degrees by the time we reach Klamath Falls. We are slow out of the gate, so we push hard to make it a decent distance tonight so we can enjoy a half-day in San Diego before crossing the border.
We drive down Highway 395 in the dark, a shame since it is one of the more scenically sublime roads in California, hugging the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada range. Our goal is to at least reach Bishop, then camp for the night under the shadow of Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 states. The next morning, we wake up to this:
The remainder of Highway 395 skirts the Mojave Desert, passing the largest thermal solar array in California and miles and miles of desert, until we reach the high desert city of Adelanto, which means “progress or advance” in Spanish. Adelanto’s tagline, which is evident on the sign that sits a mile or two before any visible civilization, is “The City with Unlimited Possibilities”. Poor Adelanto never morphed into the thriving suburbia as hoped, but instead is a crossroads of fast food joints, California beige (and a few pink) tract homes, monster trucks and dust devils.
We reach San Diego mid-day, with blue, blue skies and a flat, flat Pacific Ocean. At a fortuitous meeting the week before, I ran into some friends that were heading to San Diego to camp that week, so we were able to jump in on their camp spot and enjoy a quick dip in the ocean before eating our first “Baja” style fish tacos complete with tasty Margs at a nearby Mexican restaurant.
We are anxious to leave the endless strip malls and classic California traffic for a little Mexico therapy. Andele!