Linda and i spent the last 8 years exploring Baja together. Every year during Xmas vacation we would burn down to California from Oregon to meet up with Sawyers, Kris and whoever else was coming for the yearly turn and burn. Every year we lost a couple people and this year was no different.
I parked my Camper and left my dog with Linh, Linda’s brother. I set up shop at Luke’s parents fabrication shop and tried to get any last minute mods done on my motorcycle before crossing into no mans land. Everything about the start of the trip sucked. This whole adventure without Linda and my dog was burning at my soul. All the familiarities of SoCal, all the months of planning and thinking and doing were funneling down to this start date. I think alot of people have anxiety before a trip but the anxiety I had wasn’t from the trip. I didn’t care about the trip. I wasn’t looking forward to morning Clamato Sol’s or the chaotic smell of diesel, fruit, and fish tacos. All i wanted was the zen of riding my dirt bike and not having to think about anything. I wanted the buzzing of the motor to drown out reality. I wanted to ride that little fucking dirt bike as far as possible.
This year’s Baja trip consisted of the usual suspects plus a few new ones. Nick my little fuck head of a friend was joining me for the first leg on his XR600. The plan was to leave before the trucks and get 5-7 days ahead before we all met up in Scorpion Bay. It was alot of ground to cover, mostly dirt tracks, old Baja 1000 courses and the odd highway connector back to dirt. Nick was underprepared to say the least. His bike was new to him and he didn’t know if the bike or himself was going to make it through day one let alone day 7. He had some health issues and was certain his shoulder would dislocate sometime on this trip. He was stressed the fuck out, uncertain about the ride and was relentless on arguing about wearing moto boots. Arguing with Nick was normal in Baja but I only had one stipulation for him riding Baja with me. He had to buy moto boots! No boots no ride. He fought tooth and nail and finally bought a pair and we were off to Tecate. My good buddy Makos was kind enough to drive our dumb asses to the border. On a sidenote, Makos and I have gotten into alot of trouble together and i was so happy to have that 2 hr drive sitting next to that fucker.
TECATE
The first couple days consisted of Nick and I finding our groove. It was beautiful, peaceful and it was exactly what I was looking for. It didn’t take Nick long to get used to his bike. His feet were dancing off rocks the first couple days and I was smiling ear to ear. But after day 2 Nick was getting used to his bike and he was cooking at a good pace. Baja is dangerous and the best advice I got pre Baja years ago was from my friend Jon Stierwalt. He said there are 2 rules….. never ride over a 7 out of 10 and don’t fucking crash. We learned this a couple years back when my buddy Ryan thought it would be a good idea to wheelie through a rock garden and crashed bad… That crash was my reminder to keep my head on straight and echo this advice to Vergillo. After I passed the advice to him, he smiled and said
“don’t worry I won’t go above a 6.9”
The days were long. We took beer breaks and rolled in and out of towns for tacos, gas and supplies. Each day got better and better. After waking up from camping on day 2 Nick was turning around when he dropped his bike going 0 MPH. He yelled as i was pulling away and I knew right away his shoulder was out. He told me what to do and we had it back in place in no time. He was bummed, he said “ well that was fun where’s the highway and how far is it”. We headed towards the highway but it was mostly dirt. We regrouped and headed towards Peurtocitos hot springs to soak and let nicks arm heal, repack and sew up all my broken luggage.
Cross threaded
We hit up Gonzaga, Cocos and took the back way into Bay of LA. Nick was riding fast when he wasn’t fixing his flat tires. Halfway to Bayofla Nick cross threaded and crashed pretty bad. He was concussed and his shoulder popped out again. This one was bad and it ended the day.
After crashing Nick and I took it easy working our way past Bay of LA towards San Fransicito.
The roads were are absolutely beautiful. The only people we saw this year were cyclists doing the Baja Divide and a family of 3 dirtbiker’s. After a full day of riding we ended up camping at this really old Rancho. It was priceless. The ranch was over 100 years old, legit as fuck and 100% traditional. We were greeted by the owners daughter on horseback like it was 1900. The whole vibe and scene felt like it was out of an old western.
Our second to last day we ended up running into Blanca and Cris at a military check point. It was so good to see them. We ended up following each other into San Juanico, camping off the road and drinking beers in cactus paradise. This first part of the trip was an absolute blast. I was super proud of Nick for trooping it. We had a great time and i would have loved to have Nick ripping the whole peninsula to Cabo. Now it was hanging with the homies and lounging for a few days.
