Forgot to post a picture from yesterday. I mean, I’m not going to let a self-portrait go without posting. My mom would be so disappointed…

Don't mess with me. I have a hat on for a reason. More on that shortly...

I got up early this morning and headed into town for a quick breakfast, riding along the beautiful malecon – a wonderful Latin invention (according to me). I can tell I’m in a more touristic area – the salsa is a bit blander, the tortillas not homemade and piping hot, the selections broader. But, no matter, my view is fantastic, the coffee is decent, and I have a perfect spot for people watching. And I’m three feet from my bike – you know, in case I need to make a quick getaway. Plus, it’s wondrous to be finally surrounded by deep and varied blues and greens now rather than brown on brown surrounded by more brown. It’s like I’ve been at a UPS reunion. But, man, I have to admit, and I’m not just tooting my own horn – I am pretty good at this. I could get used to starting mornings like this all over the world.

My seat at breakfast across from the Malecon.

And my view from my breakfast spot.

One food thing that I’ve also noticed is that Baja has far less spicy food than other parts of Mexico. On the mainland, I can get fresh habaneros sliced up at almost every restaurant, but not here. I’ve been lucky to get some serranos here and there, but not my beloved habaneros. And wow, I thought they looked at a gringo ordering habaneros on the mainland funny. Here they sort of give me that pupply-like head-tilt that says, I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t really understand what you mean you silly gringo, as they slowly backpedal before I do something crazy. I can almost hear them in back, “Yea! The gringo says he wants chiles pecantes! Haha! Let’s give him some and see what happens! Haha!” Then they casually walk over a bit later expecting to see me gasping for air under the table and ask with a knowing smirk, how I like everything. I always disappoint them with a big smile under my sweaty brow and flushed cheecks and say, “Perfecto.”

Anyway, like all great things, my morning on the malecon must come to an end as I need to head back to the hotel to get going down to San Jose del Cabo to pick up Tonieh from a 12:30 flight. I pack in a flash, and I’m out the door after a quick shower. OH! That reminds me of something I probably shouldn’t admit, but I will anyway.

Last night, I noticed that my hair still had that “wet look” several hours after washing it. I didn’t really think anything of it, so I blew it off. Again this morning before breakfast, it looked sorta extra greasy, but again, I just blew it off and threw on a hat. Then, while I was showering, it again had a very strange feel to it. Man, the helmet head must really be messing with my normally silky, golden locks. And wow, I am not usually this sensitive about my hair. (Bear with me – I’m going somewhere with this.) What’s happening to me? Finally, while I was rinsing out the conditioner from my hair, I noticed that it was a rather strange consistency. Really thick and not like I’m used to at all back home. And then it hit me. Oh my god. I am an idiot. That’s not conditioner! It’s body lotion! Really, really cheap body lotion. It’s probably not even good for your skin much less your hair! Now my hair will do anything I tell it to. The problem is, once I tell it to do something, it won’t stop. I could do Alfalfa with this hair now. I may even be flammable. I seriously may have to shave my head in Todos los Santos to get rid of this stuff. I’m telling you, traveling in Mexico is dangerous – especially if you can’t get out of your own way. Again, let’s keep this between us close friends…

Hair by body lotion. Looks pretty good, eh? Stands up to hurricane-forced winds too.

I finally finished scrubbing my scalp and made my way down to La Gigante. Pretty certain she was looking at me funny and giggling on the inside. “I can’t leave you alone for ten minutes.” We got past it and got loaded up, and she was back to herself in moments doing what she does so well as we started our way out of town.

There is almost nothing better than waking up early in a foreign city and making my escape. The act of moving again feels physically phenomenal, and the excitement of the new adventure ahead and going into places unknown heightens my senses and puts me into a special place. There is often a twinge of regret to leave yet another beautiful city, but it lasts only until the wind whips around us and we’re free again. But often, that initial joy is temporarily stifled when you realize it may take a bit longer than you thought to extract yourself. As the town awakens around you, it grabs at your shoulders, at your knees, and at your bike’s engine and tires. It often becomes a very sweaty, dirty, stop-and-go mission. It seems like everything and everyone is conspiring against you. Everyone is driving slowly. All the lights are timed to catch you. And the heat. Oh the heat on the black streets. And just when you think you’re out, they suck you back in with a last-ditch traffic jam at the end of town for no reason you can see.

All you can do is be patient. There is no rushing the process, and the comfort in knowing that new adventure awaits keeps propelling you forward. I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve still stubbornly taken some risks in this process and broken some rules along the way, but in the end it’s all worth the risk, sweat, dirt, and grime for that new adventure.

Perhaps some day I’ll find a city that I want to stay in for a while, but for now, the leaving feels great, and the potential of new adventure is just too compelling.

Wow. I have just described all the relationships I’ve had in my life…

I hope you appreciate the risks I am taking to bring a real taste of Mexico home. This could easily have been mud in the face. Pretty sure I saw one of them pucker.

Anyway, as I pull out of town with these thoughts, I am definitely going too fast, but then does everyone in Mexico – they either drive too fast or too slow, never just right. But this time, I look up the street to a Federale standing roadside next to his badass (seriously, they look cool) Dodge Charger waving me to pull over. Awesome. Not the first time I’ve been pulled over in Mexico. Last time cost me about $50 in “donations.” But, this is a Federale – none of that with these dudes. They are not to be messed with. But, then I’d rather have to deal with an upset honest badass than a corrupt coward.

He asks if I speak Spanish, and I say a little bit. Then he says some stuff really fast, and I think I catch that I was going way too fast, but I continue to say “no comprendo,” to which he finally says in some state of disgust, “You don’t speak a little Spanish,” or maybe he said I don’t speak any Spanish. I’m not sure. I am a bit offended, “Si! Un poco! Pero no comprendo.” (Yes! A little! But I don’t understand!) He finally has clearly had enough of me and gives me a dismissive wave to tell me to be on my way. I’m not even worth the time to try and get through the language barrier. A few graciases later and I’m back in business baby! Whew.

The ride from La Paz to San Jose del Cabo (Cabo san Lucas sisiter city about 40 miles away) is actually fantastic. Since I got a late start, I had to take the interior mountain route, but I’m glad I did. It was super curvy, and La Gigante and I ate it all up. It was a nice, short 100-mile twisty ride through the desert. It was one of those days I could have ridden forever, but before I knew it, I was at the airport.

That's our little 40-story hotel. We had the third floor with the balcony facing the water. Perfect.

Negotiating the airport is a bit of a pain, but I finally find Ton, and we take the short ride to our hotel in San Juan los Cabos. Our hotel rocks! It’s only 4 floors with 4 rooms per floor, and we have the one on our floor (third) that opens up onto a huge balcony right on the ocean. It’s absolutely perfect. It’s all old wood and just plain cool – a far cry from some of the mega-resorts around the corner. Our beach is practically vacant, and the body surfing is great. Pretty sure I could make the Olympic Body Surfing team, but I just don’t get to train enough.

Our view to the northeast.

And to the southwest. Not bad if you can endure the luxury..

And what's the point of a view without me in the picture!

It may not look like it, but I am owning that wave.

Our beach for the day.

Dude clearly has it all figured out.

Dinner across the street at what is supposed to be a really nice restaurant. And it is. But it’s too “nice.” I feel incredibly stifled and annoyed, and I can feel my traveling mood being sucked out of me by the pretentious environment and the prices. I don’t mind paying a lot, but the bottled water we had cost more than my huge, delicious meal on the road. I’m happy to be doing the luxury thing for a night, and I look forward to a beach day tomorrow, but I am so ready to get back on the road away from all of , well, this.

I couldn’t decide if I should post this photo, but we had such a laugh over it that I think I have to. I am clearly the center of the universe (in my own mind).

A quick map update since I didn’t go very far.