Our arrival was something out of an off-roading smut film. It had just rained earlier in the day—you could still smell it in the dirt. All around were the greenest greens our dry LA eyes had ever seen. Perfectly puffed clouds scattered across the sky. Puddles galore. And you bet we accelerated right into those tempting bastards every time. Car wash? Never heard of her.
(Well, not until our trip home when the US border patrol found cow bones in our back seat and pulled us aside, only to not claim said cow bones but to tell us to get a car wash before crossing back onto US soil next time. Yes they really said that.)
Our days were spent surfing in the morning (sorry, no surf photos, ask Nikonos Nate for those when he gets his scans back in 2025), foraging for shellfish at noon, fishing in the evening, and Tecate sipping after sundown. We shared a solitary stretch of coastline with friendly farm animals, and a few local fishermen a couple miles away. Not many people ‘round down there in Baja Norte.
"When you spend that much consecutive time outside in the sun after winter hibernation, it just hits, man."
Now, a worthwhile debrief on the abundance of delicious sea-to-table fare: it was all IN-credible. We didn’t have much luck in the fishing department (looked cool doing it though), so we foraged crab and mussels with a cracked container that washed ashore, my bucket hat (fits roughly 25 mussels), and some miscellaneous beach utensils. We were fortunate to make friends with some folks in the area, so we brought the shellfish and they supplied the fishfish. Some sublime seafood smorgasbords ensued.
Before I part ways with my pen, I want to give a hardy round of applause to Nate Stephenson for inviting us on what has become one of my favorite short stretches in recent memory. What felt like a week was jammed into just four days, and my thirst for adventure was quenched. Thanks for visually tuning in. See ya out there.