It’s easy to remember. I met Miron in Mulege and talked about it here. You should watch the documentary about his (successful) Baja FKT attempt and how I was a small part of it.
After the wonderful days in San Ignacio, the journey from there to Mulege took four or five days and passed through El Datil on the Pacific and then across the peninsula to the Sea of Cortez side. But I also took a side road to San Juanico, south of El Datil, on the Pacific. This is a place that Scott Miller had mentioned to me several times under the name Scorpion Bay. When I saw it, yes it was a wonderful surf spot as he described it and it was a sleepy town to back it up. I slept there for a night or two before turning back and heading towards Mulege, which would be my next waypoint. . I would stay two more nights to relax and soak up the ambiance of a seaside village but with the complication of meeting Miron too. It was at that time that I rented a boat to take us across Conception Bay and land on “Hornitos” Point. From there, I would cycle south on the best dirt roads of the entire trip, along the Concepcion Bay peninsula. Miron was gone the second we landed in Hornitos. And after spending the day there, I was returned to Highway 1 and headed inland again as the sun set. I camped at a truck stop that night, in a river bed, a few thrown stones from the highway.
There was an obvious duality or dilemma forming for me. It was the contrast between pleasantness and staying outside on the bike. I don’t think this is a pervasive problem among cyclists who do this sort of thing, but it seems like a typical juxtaposition. Driving is difficult, even at a gentle pace, it is akin to any toil, and that is why comfort is sought, and the mind plays tricks, considers and denies what becomes available from one moment to the next. village to another, passing through the city.
I felt a push and pull for what civilization offers while, while riding my bike, I found the most peace I will probably ever know. I wanted both and on this tour I got both. And it was appropriate and obvious and it became a defining truth about who I was in the wilderness; that I am the product of my experience and that I am not made to live on the bike, at least not with the mindset that I had.
I would sink heavily into this dilemma as I descended toward San Javier, the apparent end of the “Mission” section of my Baja tour and a major conclusion in itself. I would happily stay there again in a back hut of a family home, I think it was for a week. We’ll talk about this later. There were still many kilometers to go.
