baja, part 3

From: Bob Galvan (kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis)
Date: Thu Jun 12 1997 - 09:27:05 PDT


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Date: Thu, 12 Jun 1997 09:27:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Galvan <kasplash@crl.com-DeleteThis>
To: Campsurfdawg list -- David Bartolotta <david@bartolotta.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, part 3
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                Camp Surfdawg 1997 - The Nomad Way
 
Day #6
=======

I wake up to the van shaking. It's Tony's morning strirrings being
transmitted through the trailer hitch. We're camped somewhere on Mexico #1
in mountainous and boulder-strewn terrain. I enter the Nomad for coffee
and hear about the carnage in the refrigerator that I didn't have to clean
up. Seems the olive oil got loose...

Two hours later we're at Catavina, renown for boulders and boojums,
a beautiful hotel and flaky fuel service. We get breakfast, gas, t-shirts,
and ice, but can't find a way to get good water into the Nomad. So we
backtrack a half mile to the peaceful Rancho Santa Inez and fill there in
the shade of a tree at the absolutely empty RV park. $2 is collected by an
immaculately groomed boy of 5.

One more chore remains down the road - Nomad needs to take a dump, and we
lost the hose. This means we have to find a suitable turnout with the
right grade and diggable dirt so we can create a big hole. Take note if
you ever forsee being in this situation, you want a full size shovel! The
short handle variety is a bitch on your back.

We turn off the pavement before noon and let some air out. Two surfmobiles
are raising dust clouds just ahead of us. An outbound traveller says the
wind has been light, but was good yesterday, and we're the 12th rig comming
in today. It's Memorial Day Weekend. The Campo Viejo road seems so much
more friendly, scenic, and interesting the Other One. It has dips and
turns and hills and ruts and arroyos and ranchos, livestock and
cactus/boojum forests. El Camino de Washboard was just straight and flat
and rough through dusty scrub the whole dang way. We reach the coast in a
respectable 2 hours. It's moderately windly with nice waves.

We go sailing straight away - the small board and the 4.7 for me. My first
two waves are long and clean, much more satisfying than anything I got at
the other place. The wind is solid, the mesa is clean and the crowd is
thin. This is what we come to Baja for. I'm happy again.

As I return to to camp, a Toyota truck pulls up.
"Quiere langosta?"
"Si mon!"
I end up with a sack of 3 bugs, one is grandaddy monster and feeds us
both tonight. We celebrate with margaritas con Damiana.



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