Waking up at Momma Espenosas to the sounds of crowing roosters, and the aroma of a traditional spanish breakfast lingered in the air. Day 2 was about to begin and we felt more prepared for the long haul down to Guerrero Negro. A decent size push that would get us into Baja Sur, California. We zig zagged on and off highway 1 witnessing the grandiose and vast arid climates of Baja. Cobble stone beaches, towering Cactus, whale bones, and cattle carcasses, all mixed among floral blooms, and sunset colors that would leave the roughest of men pondering about God.

We would peel off from the “Race” to visit AutoZones or other car part stores looking for a 2009 Dodge Ram 2500 power steering resivour cap that turns out nobody carries in Baja. It gave us an opportunity to slow down, chat with locals, smash a torta or tacos, a blackbird or two and exchange stories, smiles, and laughs.

We’d get a radio call to hurry up from the chase truck and scramble to get to our next check point or the final stop of the day. Meandering in the Safari Class was our operating speed and everyone knew it. We usually ended up getting to places quicker than the guys pushing it though who were blowing out tires, or burning their trucks fully to the ground. Racing carnage at its finest and we had a front row seat offering a hand when we could or a fire extinguisher when needed.

Day 3 we drove from Guerrero Negro to San Juanico taking the infamous and amazing back road to Scorpion Bay. We hammered on the old Dodge all day and the big diesel just cruised right along without a hitch. By the end of the day the truck was officially known as “The Beast”. Scorpion bay was pancakes, not a bump, lump, or hint of motion to surf, but what a fucking coast line. We took a swim to knock off the dust of the days drive dreaming about what the bay must be like with a perfect swell rolling through.

With the days drive done and the lack of surf we decided to go explore a bit and look at the ocean front properties North of town. Figuring out where we would someday tow an old trailer and live out our days surfing, fishing, and melting into the next life. Baja reminded us not to get to laxidazical as we were climbing up a decent sized hill to get to a remarkably beautiful lot. Ol’ heavy started to lose traction and kick sideways. 3/4 of the way up the hill I realized we were high enough and said hill was steep enough to really fuck us up. I brought the truck to a stop to not dig in the rear tires anymore…breathe, relax, shift into four wheel drive. POP. The linkage to our 4x4 snapped. Pucker. Fuck. Park. Alex jumped out to spot me and I had managed to get up just high enough onto a bolder where the only way to go was forward. I engaged the rear locker, said a quick prayer to Jesus and we slowly climbed up and out adverting disaster. We hastily headed back to the casita for some blackbirds and tacos. Then got some help using baling wire to MacGyver the 4x4 linkage back together.

From San Juanico onto Loreto, then Loreto to La Paz. The drive just continued to deliver views, towns, and people that will be burned into my mind forever. Our final day drive from La Paz to Cabo had arrived. The week behind us a blur of dust, rock, ocean, and cactus. Drained and tired, we somehow still charged as the people who lined the race course, danced with excitement and enthusiasm to encourage the drivers to push the skinny pedal all the way down and give it hell just one more time. I happily obliged the crowd everytime watching the smiles grow as they heard our turbos spool up and off we’d rip leaving a massive cloud of dust in our wake.

The stoke was high, our butts and low back sore, and we had accomplished the drive we wanted to drive. Cabo sounded crowded, loud, and kinda boring. We wanted surf, tacos, and peace and quiet. After driving 946 miles down Baja just 54 miles from Cabo we called the chase truck and told them we were peeling off and our drive was done. They picked up our radio at The Green Room, in Todos Santos and we said our goodbyes. For the next 2 days we slept, drank, crushed 15,000 tacos, and absoletely scored with a 4-5’ swell surfing our brains out. The guided tour of Baja was over. The Norra 1000 was over.

We b-lined it from Cerritos to Gonzaga Bay in 14 hours. Then the next day pushed all the way to San Clemente. Our only trouble of the trip was our own fault at the boarder of Mexicali. We kept hearing that Baja is the only island you can drive to in the world. A drive so beautiful that it will haunt your dreams until you return; and its true, it haunts my dreams daily. What a drive.

If you want to support Favorite Pastime pick up a Safari Class Racing Hat or T-shirt here.

Come drive with us next year. If you have any questions shoot them to info@favoritepastime.com

Making great clothes. Inspiring great times.

FAVORITE PASTIME.