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Day 9, March 3, 2001

Punta San Francisquito to Bahia de Los Angeles
(84.1 miles all dirt; 3 hours 28 minutes)

Spectacular sunrise at Punta San FrancisquitoJesse packing the Hummer That is one hell of a cardon cactus


We got on the road to Bahia de Los Angeles, a little sad to be leaving San Francisquito, but also ready for the new adventures ahead. And we knew LA Bay would be like heading to the "big city" compared to our serene stay at San Francisquito.

On the road we passed evidence of the types of crazy gringos who come to places like LA Bay. We came upon a strange "scarecrow" made out of Baja motocross wear, and soon after that we came upon what looked like a broken down pickup truck. This time, however, the Mexicans were not too friendly, and they waved us on, refusing our offer of help.

Some time later, closer to LA Bay, we passed two gringos, a man and a woman in a passenger car, who looked like they should be headed to a swanky beach at a resort instead of off into a lonely, rugged dirt road in the desert. We waved at them and they stopped. They said they were going to check out Punta San Francisquito, since they had seen signs for it. We told them we had just come from there, and it was a long ride with severely washed out roads. We thought they were crazy and ill-equipped for the long road, but we didn't say anything as they continued toward PFQ.

Hours later, we saw the same bleached-blonde woman and Hawaiian-shirted man strolling along the street in LA Bay, looking very happy to be back there. We let our imaginations run away with us, guessing that perhaps a drug deal or other illicit activity had taken place on the road between the gringos and the unfriendly Mexicans.

But that wasn't our main concern by far. None of us had showered in the morning, and we were dusty and excited about finding a motel with hot showers. We bargained with a man at the deserted Villa Vita Motel, scoring three rooms for $20 each. The sign boasted of hot showers, and we all went to our rooms, looking forward to hot running water. But we were sorely disappointed as we all took tepid showers that never even got close to being warm.

We found out later that the Villa Vita does have electricity and hot showers -- every day from 6 to 9 p.m. I guess you get what you pay for.

We headed out in search of food after our cold showers, and ate lunch near the pier at Guillermos. We feasted on seafood, and then strolled around a bit. Back at the hotel, we made friends with a resident kitty and fed it sardines, which it gulped down gratefully.

In the afternoon I looked for the hotel manager, whose spotty English rivaled only my poor Spanish. I asked if there was a laundry service at the hotel. My clothes were full of dust and dirt, and I had worn the same outfit for several days in a row. The manager said to come back at 6 p.m. and bring the clothes. So I gathered up our most essential and filthy items, threw them in a plastic garbage bag, and found the manager at 6 p.m. I was actually expecting him to take the clothes and have them washed (silly me), but instead he motioned for me to come with him.

I followed him to a concrete-floored laundry room full of washing machines and dryers in various states of repair. A woman was washing several loads of sheets and towels. The manager motioned to me to put the clothes in a washing machine with no lid, and I did. He turned the dial on the machine, and it filled up with water. He added laundry detergent, but then nothing happened. He motioned me over to the machine, and then it became clear that the machine was broken. We agitated the clothes by hand. "Now you are Mexican," he said to me with a smile. The manager was obviously more than a little drunk, and he tried to touch my arm while we were washing. I would have left, but I really wanted some clean clothes to wear, so I backed away politely and told him I was married. Which was true, actually.

After our manual wash cycle, we took the clothes out and rinsed them in a large plastic tub, and then wrung them out by hand. There weren't enough clothespins for all our clothes, so Dad and Jess and I went to the store and bought a big bag of them. We hung the clothes out to dry on a line behind the motel. It was quite a unique experience for all of us.

After all this exertion, we were hungry again. We ate dinner next door at the Costa del Sol motel, which was much nicer and had very good food in a pretty dining room. The rooms cost $30 each, and we agreed that if we ever found ourselves in LA Bay again we would stay there.

We went to sleep to the sound of dirt bikes revving in the parking lot. A big group of bikers had pulled up in the late afternoon, filling up the motel. I fell asleep quickly and slept well, in spite of the noise and the cold, unheated room.