baja trip, part 2

From: Bob Galvan (kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis)
Date: Wed Jun 11 1997 - 08:46:02 PDT


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Date: Wed, 11 Jun 1997 08:46:02 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Galvan <kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis>
To: Campsurfdawg list -- David Bartolotta <SFBBEAR@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Clay Feeter <WTRACKSHQ@aol.com-DeleteThis>, "Colin J. Case" <102544.2240@CompuServe.COM-DeleteThis>, "Galvan, Daniel CDT " <x01397@exmail.usma.army.mil-DeleteThis>, John Egan <jregan@aloha.net-DeleteThis>, Eric Simonsen <ESSphoto@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Flash Gordon <flash@well.com-DeleteThis>, Leah Doran <vivid@surfnetusa.com-DeleteThis>, Lisa Bauer <recycqueen@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Liz Brady <floraslk@harborside.com-DeleteThis>, Edward B Doubleday <day2@interramp.com-DeleteThis>, Patrick Hamilton <mycochef@aol.com-DeleteThis>, Steve Ulrich <stevenu@unspoken.com-DeleteThis>, Wind Talkers <wind_talk@opus.hpl.hp.com-DeleteThis>
Subject: baja trip, part 2
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                Camp Surfdawg 1997 - The Nomad Way
        

Day #4
=======

Hot and lazy morning. Ab divers are working right in front of
camp. Each panga has one tender, one helmsman pushing oars, one gas
powered compressor running a hookah rig. I never saw a diver go down or
come up, but now and then a basket of abs would be hauled over the side.
Those guys stayed down for about 3 hours straight.

The paddling surfers are out getting good waves while we do the morning
routine of clean, eat, and fix.

About noon we ride into town, just a mile away down the airport runway.
It's a real pleasure to call the tower to get clearance for takeoff, then
just unleash the mighty 460 on the smooooooooth salt pan. I didn't even
check the speedo, just felt my face melt and screamed!

There's a big desalination plant at the far end of town, and the spigots
outside are open 24 hours a day, no charge, no line, no problemo. I wonder
if it's kosher to wash the car there...

We score tortillas, spices, and ice, then go exploring. This is the
beauty of the Nomad Way - your vehicle isn't anchored to the campsite. We
check a couple great looking surf spots, but the waves are just ankle
high. Next we go look at the mangrove lined estero. On the map it seems
that the mouth might be very much like my beloved Tubamancha, and indeed
it does bear quite a resemblance, but the waves are nothing special today.
We do find an abundance of clam and oyster shells, this estero appears to
be teeming with life.

Back at camp, the wind is picking up, so we go sailing. I start on the
8'2"/4.7, but soon go back for the bigger gear. The wind is just really
holey.

We make a nice chicken dinner with baked potatoes and salad, then enjoy a
light-wind campfire under the full moon. Strangely, the fire doesn't
attract any of the neighbors.

Day #5
=======

9AM Loco Time. Small surf, no wind. I'm antsy - I want to do something but
I'm not sure what. So I cook and eat 2 rounds of chorizo and eggs with
cheese + tortillas. Then we go surfing at Little Man's, a beautiful right
a few miles away in a sandy bay. My battle cruiser longboard catches these
wimpy little waves so nicely, and rides them so far that I walk back up the
beach rather than paddle the distance. Mr. Casual surfs with his staw
sombrero on. This bay is a sting ray spot too. You have to keep your feet
shuffling on the sand rather than lifting them up to walk. We've seen a
couple bloody calves since we've been in camp, and heard some stories too.
The clinic in town specializes in injecting stings with something else from
another needle.

We're debating bailing back to our traditional camp. The crowd, the trash,
the marginal surf and wind are all adding up to less than expectations.
While we have this down time, I run into town again and load up on octane
boost and do an oil change with Ramon at the auto parts store. There is a
grease pit right out back. I find some fuel at a house in town, too. It's
siphoned out of five gallon cans placed on a high stool. Each can costs 70
pesos, or 10 bucks. I get 2. I wonder if they were full...?

When I return Tony is sailing, so I park the van on the point and shoot
video from inside to get a good soundtrack instead of wind noise. Then I
go sailing, again starting on the smaller gear and finding many holes in
the breeze.

We make the commitment. It's back to Campo Viejo for us. Perhaps the
local thermal turbo-boost and the passage of another day will change our
sailing luck. By 8 pm Pacifico Time we've packed lowered the tire
pressure even more, to about half of highway specs, and we're rolling.
The softer tires do the trick on this nasty washboard, and we hit the
pavement less than 2 hours later. Then we waste an hour in a less than
successful attempt at trying to pump the tires up again with Tony's little
electric compressor. It just isn't equal to the task of bringing 16" tires
up to 70 psi. We roll softly till the next Pemex.



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