Ensenda Nightlife and the Rides to San Vicente and San Quintin

The torture of the rain soaked ride to Ensenada was more than worth it to experience the dramatic improvement of nightlife over Rosarito. The crowds were young and attractive. Most hardly spoke English even though I was in the Zona de Tourista. The first place I went to cost $3 to get in, but it included an open bar until midnight with 2 for 1 drinks after that. 2 beers ran me 25 pesos. I sat down at a table that seemed empty, but two 18 year old boys were there previously occupied with the battle to get a bartenders attention. One was tall, skinny, and shy, which reminded me of myself at that age. I felt obliged to take him under my wing and force him to socialize. I took them across the street to Pappas & Beer which is the best nightclub in Ensenada. My efforts were thwarted by our language barrier, and I had to set them free around 2am as they were probably already out past their curfews.

I was wandering around downstairs, and a random guy came up to me and hit my beer with his beer trying to do the trick where it makes your beer overflow. However, he was too intoxicated to realize that this trick only works on a freshly opened full beer. I looked down to see that he hit it so hard that my bottle had shattered. I shot him the best look of disappointment I could muster. I began to sense that a fight would soon break out, but his friends entered the situation with a new beer for me. they began to chat me up. It turns out they were touristas as well and from LA. I shut the bar down talking to these guys. We took turns picking each other´s brains over buckets of Tecate the beer of choice in Ensenada.

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Before leaving Ensenada, I went around to several places looking for waterproof clothing. This turned out to be a fruitless endeavor, and it was noon before I was on the road. This was the latest start to my day thus far, and menacing rainclouds were directly above. I could see blue skies ahead so I really tried to hussle. However, my fate would fall victim to a construction zone. I have gone through a few of these so far that can take up to five minutes to pass. This one was different. Basically, it was dirt path that had been washed away by the previous days rainstorm. A quarter mile down the road, about the fifth trucker in a caravan of truckers towing their Baja 1000 dune buggies in the opposite direction yells to me, ¨Go home. You´re fucked.¨ It´s far to late to turn back now, and a few muddy roads will not hinder my journey. His comments actually motivate me to make it through, which was no small task. I will spare the details, but it took me over an hour to make it through this section.

There is a mud pit where the cars are backed up. The whole situation is basically a free for all.

After completion of the construction zone, I was welcomed by five miles of switchback mountain climbing. I descend out of that mountain into a military check point. There is actually some guy in a bunker surrounded by used tires whose job is to activate the trip wire that I pass over. I was hoping the Federales would give me a stamp on my passport as I am sure I am illegally traveling in the country, but I get waved through without a second look.

I arrive in San Vicente at 5pm in total darkness, 770 miles from SF. As I enter, I see headlights on my left, which is normal and on my right, which is not normal. This is a pretty terrifying sight as I am not that visible and totally vulerable. Therefore, I find the nearest hotel. I hit the town looking to spread my Gringo money around and buy tacos at one place, then half a chicken at another. I look for a place to eat the chicken and review tomorrow´s route. I pass by a billiards bar with open seats. The guys standing outside advise me not go in there as many people are drunk who are looking to fight. I end up eating the half chicken while walking to the Pemex to buy some water. However, this place has no convenience store so I make my way to the next market whose floor is covered in sawdust and stinks of sour milk. Before reaching my hotel, I stop at a torta stand and ask what the cars are doing driving back and forth on the pot hole wriddled dirt road. They tell me that the poor people go to the billiards hall to drink while the rich people drive their cars up and down the street drinking in their cars. It´s an interesting show of wealth.

I finish off my eating binge with a delicious apple filled pastry at the local bakery.

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I was glad to leave San Vicente and have finally crossed the first fold in my map. I arrive in San Quintin at 1:45 but decided to stay even though I could get many more miles under my belt as the road is flat and the wind is helping. The reason I decide to stop is that San Quintin is labeled in yellow on my map signifying a place of interest, and the next one, Santa Rosalie is about 500 miles from here through arduous terrain and on the gulf side. I really appreciate entering a town with sufficient light as it makes it much easier to locate the cheapest motel. Today´s motel is half the price of yesterday´s at 150 Pesos.

There is a very good chance that I will not be posting for a while but will do my best.