Mulege Friends, Bahia Conception, and Loreto

An easy way to figure out what touristy things you should go see in a town you just get to is look at what images are on postcards.  In San Francisco for example, a typical postcard will have the Golden Gate Bridge, sea lions, Transamerica, and/or the Painted Ladies.  I walked into a store originally named ¨La Tienda¨ and saw the Santa Rosalia Mission.

The Santa Rosalia Mission is up on a hill.  Mulege even built a nice set of stairs so you can get a better angle for a photo.

This is the vantage towards Mulege from the same set of steps.

When I was walking back from the Mission, I finally felt a bit of hunger, but I was still uneasy in the stomach.  I decided I was destined for more tacos since I believe they are a safety food.  I cross a small river back to town, and the first restauran I see has a sign for happy hour margaritas.  I am not much in the mood for margaritas, but what the hell, you only live once.  When I go in, there are two men at the bar and another working behind it, talking about whether or not the hanging light should be on.  It appears they all know each other.  The reason I clearly know their topic of discussion is that they are speaking in English.  Jackpot - I just found a Gringo hangout.  English is like music to my ears in the depths of Baja California.

Happy hour turns into a 4.5 hour eating and drinking binge.  The owner of the bar Travis is a transplant from Palacios, TX.  The other two guys are Scotty who happens to own the place where I had my lunch cheeseburger and Jon who are transplants from Eugene, OR and London, UK respectively.  They each basically came to Mulege on vacation and never took their homeward bound flights.

I bring up my Visa fiasco, and Travis provides a good plan that will cost me very little.  I should go to the Mulege Ministral, tell them my passport and Visa were stolen, then take the evidence of the stolen goods from the Mulege Ministral to the Immigration Office in Loreto and get a new Visa.  I can then take my passport which I never lost and the newly issued Visa to the agents at the Guatemala border acting like I entered through Loreto, and the agents gave me a Visa but failed to stamp my passport.  I am totally on board.  ¨Honest is the best policy, except in Mexico.¨

Jon suggests that they always put stamps on the passports, and there is a new computerized system where they can actually check the records in real time.  I now have doubt.  Travis´ wife Rosalia enters the conversation and says to go back to Santa Rosalia and confess the truth to the people at their immigration office.  Now I have no plan.  I plan to dominate a game of darts to find clarity.  I fail to win but decide to mix all of their ideas and just ride to Loreto and confess my sins at the Immigration Office.

Mulege is at the very north end of the Bahia Conception.   

 This photo was taken only a few miles outside of Mulege.  I am thinking, well, this is a cool shot.  I better not miss it since the crazy road architects will probably have me head in the mountains instead of running along the beautiful low lying coast.

I was wrong.  There was about 10 miles of winding coast lined with white sand beaches and people lounging around with no responsibilities.

This sign confirms that these little shacks serving food do in fact serve donkey as their meat.  There was a donkey farm right behind the restaurant.  There were only baby donkeys so either they had a tourism run and the adults are gone, or the ´veal´ style fetches a higher price.

The road south of Bahia Conception has a few climbs back into the mountains.  There was a particular stretch where I started to gear up instead of down on the incline.  I decided to see what would happen if I stopped peddling, and I overcame a 100 feet climb on a 3% grade maxing out at 9.2 mph during a big gust.  If Only I had Halle Berry from X-Men in my back pocket for the long climbs, I could double my daily mileage.

Before riding in Baja, I had a vision that the place would be a dust bowl.  I packed a bandana and always left it at the top of my clothes pannier in case I need it quickly.  This is the first substantial amount of dust I have seen in Baja but still have not used the bandana.

I mostly raced myself all day so I could get to the Immigration Office before it closed.  I assumed government offices are early closers so I better make it to Loreto before 4pm.  I made it with 45 minutes to spare.  As I am approaching Loreto, I stop and ask the first person where the office is.  Crickets.  I then ask for the center of town.  I get directed down a dirt path.  After asking about 15 more people that were equally as uninterested in helping, I made it to the town center.

Someone told me that the Immigration Office was in the Municipal and I saw a sign for the Municipal, but it turns out I was one building over in a church.  Unfortunately, the Municipal was not where the Immigration Office is.  Great, I just wasted 30 of my minutes, and I had to back track.  I was told by an English speaker that I had to go back to near the highway, which meant asking more directions from locals with no real incentive to help.  I finally get to the Immigration Office to learn that they closed at 1pm.  I was way off.

I am going to be at their door as soon as they open in the morning hoping that I do not get deported.

I am getting a crazy tan line from the gap between my arm sleeves and my gloves.