adventurelog
Baja Kerfuffle The By Shawn Thomas #91122
BAJA, CALIFORNIA. January. I promise you I've never been so bloody cold in my life. Baja is supposed
to be temperate. That's what all the
commercials say. "Come feel the warmth of Mexico," says a throaty, inviting voice. "Where every day is bathed in tequila and sunshine." That's how I remember it anyway. I had spent the day riding down
from central California, dodging rain- storms as I went. Ominous cloud fronts would waylay me at the nearest Starbucks, where I would sip chai and wait out the storm. "It'll be warm soon," I told myself, "so it's good that I only brought summer gear." Indeed all I had was a light riding suit, shorts,
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and other delicates. Why bother with any- thing else? It's MEXICO! Mexico rhymes with sunny! Looking back on it, I see all manner of
flawed logic. The worst being that I was convinced the weather would magically change for the better once I crossed the bor- der. It didn’t. In fact, it got worse. There was an irritating drizzle when I entered Tecate, enough to require frequent wipes of my goggles. Eventually I pulled them, resting the flexible eye protection on the chin of my helmet. Then came the rain; a cold, unre- lenting downpour. Followed by hail. Shiver- ing and blinded by stinging darts of death, I grabbed my goggles and refitted them. No good. My heavy breathing, combined with the proximity of my goggles which had been resting on the chin vent of my helmet, ensured I could see nothing but a foggy slosh of white. By the time the snow started falling (yes,
I said SNOW), I was all kinds of miserable. I would have happily turned back, were it not for my friends toughing it out beside me. And they were having fun. "Wow, now THIS is Adventure Riding!" they yelled, whooping and hollering as we drifted down slippery back roads. They were well bun- dled, of course. I felt compelled to forge ahead, if for no other reason than to avoid the myriad of heckling should I call it quits. The crescendo of our ride was the drive-
way to the hotel. It was dirt, 10 miles long and quickly turning to muddy slop. By its end we had all fallen numerous times and were exhausted. For an interminable amount of time we waited for hotel keys and room access. Folks in Baja are just not in a hurry. By the time we were in our rooms, I was
cold beyond measure. Soaked and shiver- ing, I went straight for the shower.... but there was no hot water. The room had heat,
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