Older
Newer

While I enjoy camping, there’s definitely something to be said for staying in a motel. It’s so much easier to have everything packed the night before, meaning you can get from waking up to being on the road in 5 minutes. Mike and I haven’t got to that level, but it’s definitely something that I look forward to.

One downside to not camping is that it’s much easier to lose things. When you’re camping, anything you take off in the tent is going to stay there, and if you somehow forget to pack it, you’ll wrap it up with the tent. With my talent for forgetting things, leading to comments that I should start a lost list, it makes hotels dangerous places. The hotel in Vizcaíno is the new home of my wonderful grey Smartwool shorts.

The first 30k was similar to the flat with gentle rolling hills that we had had on the way into Vizcaíno, but then the hills kicked up a little. Having been on my bike for so long, I tend to find gentle hills to be more interesting than flats. It also means that I have a pretty different way of describing roads. To Mike, if the road isn’t pancake flat, it has some hills. To me, if the hills don’t take more than a couple of minutes to ascend it has light rolling hills. Near the end of the day, we hit a couple of short steep climbs and Mike had issues getting up them, although that was mainly caused by his derailleur not shifting properly leading to comments about how he wished he had hub gearing like I do.

We made our way into the verdant desert oasis of San Ignacio and stopped at the first hotel we saw, which charged 700 pesos ($50). I was sure we could find something cheaper but Mike was “done…baked…stick a flippin’ fork in me…done!” so he waited while I rode off to investigate. After a bit of riding in circles, I found us a place that was 300 pesos and we checked in and enjoyed a siesta.

In the evening we met 3 of the 5 Americans who live in San Ignacio and drank a few beers. It had been Mother’s Day the day before and it’s a huge holiday in Mexico. On the way out for dinner there was lots of singing and dancing in the square which Saba, who offered to show us around, insisted would be on when we came back. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, as it looked like it would have been great fun. I sat in the town square to relax and got surrounded by inquisitive teenagers although my horrific Spanish meant I couldn’t say too much back to them.

Heading into town

Entrance to a ranch

Older
Newer