The Great Escapade, COVID Series

It has been two months since the WHO declared this coronavirus as a pandemic and the last time we saw the world making sense. Luckily, we live in the countryside and manage to take a break from the Martial Law status that is taking place here in Baja.

We packed the truck to get away from people and be out in nature, with the plan of getting some free food: fish! I have always regarded myself as an excellent fisherman, at least when it comes to brown trout and arctic char in Sweden. However, I haven’t done a lot of fishing in the Pacific (or Baja) because I work in the diving industry. It gets a bit complicated in an environment where fish are friends.

I grew up fishing and hunting, and found it more natural get your own food than gobble up a can of tuna. (We can discuss this forever, but I prefer to catch my own food.) The idea was to get free food, save some money, and get away from Netflix; instead, be out in nature for some food for our drained souls. Things did not turn out as planned…

We escaped from civilization in the late afternoon and headed out on the deserted desert roads north of Todos Santos. This area is new to us and is one of the reasons why we chose to come here. We had a good map with us, but the tracks would go here and there, and were not marked. Do we take right? …or left? Go right! Then a bit further we realized that it wasn’t the way. Go back! Go left! I mean, the left that is now right! It’s the fun part of exploring and having a good truck with at least one spare tire. Nowadays I also have a portable pump for the motorcycle and the truck.

We found our night camp. Up a sand dune we drove… and down the sand dune we parked. Tanya was not too keen on that because she is an expert in burying cars in the sand, especially the terrible so-called 4WD that we used to have, the worst car I have ever owned, the Ford Exploder. We got rid of that car and Tanya as a driver… she is banned from off-road driving while I am banned from city driving. She learned to drive in Manila, which is similar to Mexico City, and drove to work everyday when she used to live there. The traffic and driving in Mexico City are highly civilized and simple compared to Manila, though.

Tanya set up our Hilleberg tent which, I am proud to say, was made on the island where I grew up in Sweden. I built a fire and went fishing in the Pacific Ocean while I had some food slow-cooking on our MSR kitchen. Since the fish seemed to be practicing social distancing, we ate the food that we brought and went to bed. I fell asleep reading a Swedish novel about a female detective in Botswana.

A Falling Star.

I woke up early the next morning, feeling refreshed after a good sleep. Tanya is more of a night animal and had not yet caught up on sleep. It was a bit chilly and a bit humid, so I started a fire to warm up.

While I was looking down and gathering kindling, my surroundings lit up. At first I thought Tanya was shining a flashlight at me, so I looked up. But it didn’t come from the tent; it came from behind me and up in the sky! My next thought was that someone had launched an emergency flare. But it was coming from land; it was bright green-and-blue and beautiful, flying out towards the sea. It was totally quiet around me while I watched the spectacular light show for a good 4-5 seconds.

Wow, that was really something! What a treat! I have only seen something bigger than that when I was sleeping under the open sky in the Sahara in Algeria in 1990. Maybe a king was born.

After the show I tried fishing in the Pacific again… and got nothing. If it’s not social distancing, then it must be the low tide. We ate boiled eggs and a bagel for breakfast instead. I’m embarrassed to say that we had two canned tuna with us.

We packed up and made our way up the dune and… we realized that we were stuck in the sand.

“I told you so!” Tanya said we should not have gone out here with tyres that were as smooth as a child’s cheek.

“Um, this might take some time.” What else could I say?

While I was walking around, looking for escape routes, Tanya had the bright idea to jump in to the driver’s seat and let the truck sit in a bit extra. She didn’t switch to four-wheel drive just to make sure that the truck was planted a bit deeper in the sand.

“Why did you disengage the four-wheel?” she blamed me! Then she started gathering sticks and branches.

It’s always nerve-wracking to get stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no help to be found for miles. At least we were not in the tide line, where things could get even more stressful when the tide came in.

Two hours later… After letting air out of the tires, using branches and a shovel that we brought, and finding a diagonal route up the dune, we were on the crest of the dune and on our way. We agreed that it was time to buy new off-road tyres (when we were earning money again after this virus craziness was over so that we could afford it). Now onward to a new destination and better fishing ground for stocking up on free food!

Roadrunners, Big-ear Rabbits and a Suicidal Cow.

The landscape was pretty flat where we were, with thick bushes all along both sides of the sandy road. We enjoyed watching the big-ear rabbits sprinting up everywhere, and they were fast! We also saw a lot of quails running around. They are delicious when cooked, but Tanya said they were too cute to hunt. Then there were the roadrunners, the name so fitting for these fast birds. They ran and stopped in a second, with the tail whipping straight up like a parachute brake on a jet, and then away again with their tail down in a horizontal line! It was easy to follow them with our eyes and say beep, beep! in our heads. Do people younger than me know Roadrunner and Wily Coyote, I wonder?

Last but not the least, the cows! Lots of them. I always tell friends who visit us to watch out for two things on the road in Baja: drunk drivers and cows! I was keeping an eye out for the cows (no drunk drivers on these dusty roads), so I was going slow. However, when in deep sand you do need to maintain some speed in order to move forward. It was straight and sandy, but I was driving under 30 kph as we were enjoying our time sightseeing and listening to some good music.

Our lovely drive was jarred when suddenly from behind a brush on the driver’s side, this brown suicidal cow —who was with her calf— literally walked into the front of the truck. I stepped on the brakes and stopped pretty fast. The cow fell over. Luckily the calf didn’t get hit as it was on the other side of the cow. She got up and strolled away with the calf, so she seemed to be fine.

I tried to step out, but my door was jammed… Tanya got out and checked the front of the truck. She did not look happy… I performed some contortionist moves and managed to swing my legs over the steering wheel and the gear stick, then slide my butt over the passenger seat and out the other door. I first looked over to check on the cow one more time; she didn’t have a scratch on her and was walking well. Then, I turned around to assess the damage. No! We don’t need this right now! Both headlights, the left side of the truck, the door on the driver’s side, the hood. The crappy Mickey Mouse bumpers!

I looked underneath; the engine, the radiator, and everything else were intact. So there I was, of course getting the blame for going too fast! Pay attention! But we agreed on one thing: I always got in to mishaps.

My fault? It was that stupid kamikaze cow’s, for God’s sake! Even more, she was an irresponsible mother for taking her little calf out on a dangerous suicidal attack. It was her fault!

The Roadrunner’s Friend, the Coyote.

Luckily, the car was okay to drive. So on we went. The small side adventure dampened our mood for going out and filling our cooler with fresh and free fish fillets. It was getting late, so we looked for another spot and ended up in a dry riverbed. On the sand dune beside us we had the privilege to get a good sighting of a big lone coyote, which I don’t see often. It was Tanya’s first one and a bucket-list animal to see for her. We had a good look at it before it disappeared over the rim of the sand dune. No photos, though.

A flat tire… and sausages for dinner.

This time we made sure that it was safe to drive out on the riverbed. The ground was hard, the land was flat, and the beach was still. We stayed and made camp here.

Since I am the provider of the family, I went over to the water line once again so that I could put some delicious fish on the fire. No luck. The tide must have been too high…

So we fried up some sausages and cooked pasta for dinner. Tanya prefers to eat some of the sausages separately with mustard first, and then she puts the rest on top of pasta drizzled with olive oil. I like to mix mayonnaise and ketchup all together with the pasta and sausages. Tanya says it’s barbaric. I think it’s gourmet.

When I checked the car before going to bed, I found the left rear tire deflated and flat on the sand. Oh, great! That’s for tomorrow.

Going Home!

The next morning I tried my luck once again and came back empty-handed. Again. I think it had something to do with the moon or the alignment of the stars… (For the record, Tanya is the only one who has managed to catch a decent fish since the quarantine started.)

“We’re going to starve if we count on you to catch our food! Are you sure you don’t want the canned tuna?” Tanya asked.

“No, thanks. My pride as a family provider is hurt,” I answered back.

3 days and 2 nights. Working to dig up the truck and out of the sand, hitting a cow, and changing a flat tire. And no fish.

Better go home and watch some Netflix.

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