My groovy place. Actually Cliff's place...

If you’re still reading, I’ll reward you with a (relatively) shorter post today!  De nada.

I woke up tired and groggy – a midnight manhunt in a foreign country where you’re the target will do that to you.  Let’s just keep that between us, ok?

I wasn’t sure if I’d leave and take two leisurely days to get to Cabo san Lucas or stay for a day of some rest and sightseeing and then leave tomorrow, so I got on the bike and decided I’d bomb around the town a bit and decide later.  Mulegé is literally an oasis in the middle of the desert.  There’s a fresh water river or spring or something that cuts into the land, and as is true across Baja, where there’s water, there’s life.  It’s all green, and the cactus has made way for it’s more fragile brethren, the palm tree.  The town is very hilly and split right through the middle by the river where fish constantly jump all night.

Just out my door. And the scene of the crime last night. Shhhh. I'm still wanted in most of Mexico. Mexico's Most Wanted...

After some quick errands for necessities (cervesa, suntan lotion, dinero) and a quick tour, I came back to Cliff’s and let him know I’d be staying another night to check out the famous beaches just to the south of town.  Am I glad I did!!

The beaches start about 8 miles out of town and continue for about 15 miles.  They’re all little bays protected by islands out in the Sea of Cortez and separated from each other by rock cliffs.  Each one has its own personality, and they all have stick and straw palapas right on the beach open to anyone.  A guy comes around and collects about 80 peso ($6.50) if you’re going to stay.  I could ride my bike right down to the water.  Tons of expats, travelers, and Mexican just hanging out communally.  Awesome atmosphere.

Bienvenidos a la Playa del Wags a la sur.

Y a la norte.

Salut!!

This just does not suck. Might have to camp in one of these on the way back.

Really? $7? Ok.

Awesome.

The "community." Not the greatest shot, but you get the idea.

I picked one beach at random, and made my way down to the water and picked a solitary spot after cruising down the beach.  I was there long enough to get my riding gear off when a woman came up to me from down the beach.  She and her husband heard the unmistakable sound of the silky BWM boxer engine, and she had to come down and say hello.  They’re Swiss and staying just down the beach.  “You can come down, and we can have a talk and a drink if you like.  We recently rode a GS Adventure around the world.”  Um, around the world?  I mean, I’ve read countless stories of people doing this, but it was the last thing I was expecting this woman to say.  “Sure!  I’m going to sit on the beach for a bit, and I’ll walk on down.  See you in a bit.”

So, I did a Spanish lesson (it’s like teaching a raccoon how to juggle antelopes), and took a swim in the pristine, turquoise / blue water.  After drying off, I meandered down to see the Swiss.

From the minute I met them, I immediately liked Mark and Anita.  And then I started to understand what it is they’ve been doing.  Holy shit!

First, let me say that this is just another example of me being absolutely put in my place.  Take a look at this map.  You can see at the bottom what they’ve already done by bike (Motorrad); what they’re doing now in a camper (Truckcamper – on their way to Alaska according to the map) and where they’ve flown / boated (Flugzeug / Schiff – apparently Flugzeug is plane and Schiff is boat in Swiss – I’m learning!).  Check out their site:  www.bcprod.ch.  (BCPROD stands for Black Cat Producitons.  They had a black cate for 18ish years, so it all makes sense.) Mark is a great photographer and videographer, and the site is really cool.

Mark and Anita's map on the side of their "Truckcamper."

I admit, what they have done makes my travels look like a walk down the driveway to ge the mail.  But, talking to them did not make me feel like the pussy I am, but rather it was an incredibly eye-opening experience.  For the next hour, we stood around their maps and they told me stories about their travels.  I hope they don’t think I’m some slack-jawed yokel by the way my chin was bouncing off the sand.

I could have stood there drinking (their) beer and listening to their stories all night.  Stories of traveling through Iran and hearing about how much the Iranians LOVE Americans (yea, right?).  Being forced to take a police escort through Pakistan with sirens blaring for 1200 kilometers.  Customs debacles in India.  The beauty of Vietnam.  The incredible awe they felt in Peru.  Crossing ice fields in Nepal.  And through all of their stories there was one constant – the friendliness and openness of people everywhere they went.  And, of course, the unbelievable performance of their BMW GS Adventure.  That entire trip, through ice fields, India’s congestion, 3-foot deep ice rivers, and all the miles, they had not one problem with the bike.

Here is their website:  www.bcprod.ch/  If you use Chrome, Google will translate it for you.  No clue if other browsers do that too.

The daring, inspiring duo.

It was incredibly inspiring to hear about their motorcycle portion of the trip.  That ended in Argentina last year where they “sold my heart” (the GS in Mark’s words).  Then they went to Florida to spend time with some family who live there bought their camper truck for the next leg of the journey.  When they’re done in the US, it’s off to Africa. I’ll be following along for sure.

Did I mention that they started this voyage in 2008?

After I surely overstayed my welcome, I told them that when I come back up this way from Cabo, I’m going to try and stop by again to say hello.  Maybe camp in one of the palapas.  I have about a million questions.  They seemed genuinely happy about that.  I better bring some beer.

The ride back to Mulege my head was spinning with the possibilities.  It confirms everything I’ve experienced on my trips – people are friendly everywhere if you’re open to it.  And the bike is like a calling card to interaction.  I mean, you should see videos of them crossing ice fields while 8 guys in Nepal run alongside the bike keeping it upright, just to help out.  Because they were there.  And they’d never have made it through without the help.  It’s an extraordinary world if we just take a walk into it.  Or a ride.

Back to Cliff’s, I was feeling great, but tired.  Elena, my housemate, invited (or inwited) me to tea as she says with her Russian accent.  Turns out she’s a wellness professional back in Russia, and massage is one of her focuses.  She’s actually going back up to Tijuana to focus on some herbal dental techniques before going back to Russia (she actually lives in France but is about to move to Altai, a region in Russia that enjoys 330 sunny days a year – I need to go there).  But, seeing as how one of her specialties is massage, she offered to work on my neck as practice.  I’d had plans to go out and grab dinner, but after she’d worked me over (almost to tears at one point), I could barely put two words together to form half a sentence.  I thanked her as best I could like I had marbles in mouth, and she suggested I go to bed.  It was 7:45.  I told her there was no way I could sleep, but I took her advice.  I passed out cold by 8:30.  Thanks Elana!

My rest day turned out to be just as phenomenal as my travel days, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  And apparently, I needed it.

(Oops, I lied – this wasn’t as short as I’d thought, but BELIEVE ME, I left out so many stories from Mark and Anita.  Maybe you can have a break tomorrow…)

My route didn’t change.  I didn’t go anywhere.  So, no map updates.  At least that shortens the physical length of my post.

Hasta luego…

Just because.

Come on, you knew it was coming. I just want to remember the moment in time.