My road to Baja California didn’t start in San Diego or even Tijuana. It started 16 years ago in Granada, Spain. There, amid the utter chaos that paraded itself as the orientation for my job as an Auxiliar de Conversación (i.e., a glorified English teaching assistant), I met Vanessa. Vanessa would be working in the same job and living in the same city. We talked for a handful of moments; she had a good vibe, so we caught the bus back to the town we were working in together.
As I remember it, she was supposed to stay at a hostel but either it was too late to check-in, or not booked, or closed. Whatever the case, at the end of the four-hour bus ride I invited her to crash on my couch. This might seem unremarkable, but it was a first for me. Vanessa was a virtual stranger, and on the basis of a good vibe I discounted that and offered up my couch.
16 years later I still travel with Vanessa. In fact, we spent a week eating our way through Mexico City together in April, another long-awaited sabbatical trip. And over the course of the last 16 years, based on good vibes alone, I’ve had some of the best nights, days, and weeks of my life traveling and hanging out with virtual strangers.
So, it should have been no surprise when I didn’t just say “yes,” but “hell yes,” to a road trip through Baja California with my new friend Ana shortly after meeting her at our yoga teacher training in Costa Rica this March. But as I pulled into the parking lot at Las Americas Premium Outlets on the edge of San Diego and Tijuana to meet her, I found myself a bit surprised and a lot of amused.
“At some point,” I thought, “I’m going to become a real adult. I’m going to stop backpacking and hostel hopping with virtual strangers. I’m going to stop planning international trips on the whim of a good vibe, a great feeling.”
And maybe one day I will. But this trip to Baja was too good to dissuade me. Yet again, a good vibe and a great feeling paid off. I have no regrets, just a solid tan, a few more wrinkles on my face from weeks of deep laughter, and more memories than I can fit into one post.
So, let me tell you about the ones I can fit into this one. Tijuana to Guerrero Negro to be specific.
* * *
Before the road: Planning our route from Tijuana to La Paz
I was lucky this leg of the trip. Ana is from Tijuana. She had driven parts of Baja before. Her father has driven all of Baja on and off-road. Because of their experience, I didn’t have to plan the route for this part of the trip.
It’s not that I wouldn’t have welcomed the planning, but mapping out the U.S. legs of the trip, outfitting Princess and myself for two months on the road, seeing the sights, and eventually driving all over California to find a mirror, was time consuming. Having a travel partner with the resources and knowledge to map out the route and the stops was a relief. It was also crucial in Baja. You see, road tripping through the Baja peninsula is not just a question of “Where are the cities? Which is the best road to get there?”
There really aren’t too many roads through Baja. You’re basically on Mexico’s Transpeninsular Highway— Hwy 1—the whole way. But not every stop has a gas station. Security checkpoints add time to your drive. And you need to get where you’re going before dark. Baja felt and was safe (and pretty much any Baja travel blog will tell you as much), but the roads are narrow and curvy. There are no lights through the desert—and the entire route is through the desert.
I haven’t found any website, blog, or person advocating for people to be on the road at night in Baja. Not to mention, while the Google distances are usually fairly accurate, if you get behind a truck or other large rig on these roads, forget it. It can add hours to your drive. So, I was lucky to have an informed travel partner who was willing to plan out the Baja route, which as we headed South to La Paz looked a little like this:
Tijuana -> San Quintin (1 night) -> Guerrero Negro (1 night) -> Mulege (3 nights) -> Loreto (3 nights) -> La Paz (5 nights)
Or more accurately, this:
Crossing the Border, twice
I could only start the trip by crossing the border though. And that part’s worth some telling, so back to the outlet mall we go.
I drove from Cathedral City straight to the Outlets in San Diego to meet Ana. We met at the mall because to travel outside of Baja Norte, e.g., the border zone, I needed a tourist card. Think of this as the equivalent of your Mexican passport stamp. You can’t get one entering Mexico at the Tijuana border in a Jeep or any other car. No, crossing into Mexico in a car at Tijuana is basically a free for all. Or, more accurately, a rolling stop for a picture of your license plate at a toll-like booth, and then into Tijuana you go. There are no checks. No mirrors under the car. No one opens your trunk. No one looks at your passport. No questions are asked. So, if you want a tourist card (which you are required to have if you’re going all the way to La Paz), you need to walk across the border.
Hence, me and Ana at the mall, parking our cars, and then walking across the border on foot.
How can I describe crossing the border on foot to you?
The first thing that catches the eye is the barbed wire lining the border walls (if the free for all comment above concerned you, rest assured there are walls and, as noted, they have barbed wire). Once you pass the border crossing gates, the barbed wire disappears and lines and chaos ensue.
The rules, though spelled out online, seem a little unclear at the agent’s gate. Do you have to pay for the tourist card? Maybe? Likely? It depends. (FYI – You do and you should. It was just questionable in my case because I’d been to Mexico once already this year and already held a card. Also, there was the fact that some part of the trip I’d be in the north, not just the south. But I paid for a card anyway because it’s not that much money ($30), and I’m not in the habit of leaving the legality of being in a foreign country to chance). Card in hand (and by card, I mean green square of paper), we took to the streets.
The streets outside of the walls, well, they are grimy. There are taxi drivers, peddlers, and taco stands everywhere. In short, the foot-crossing from America to Mexico at Tijuana looks exactly like every foreign-made movie about Mexico has told you it would. That said, unlike every movie has ever told you, crossing the border was also fine. (And a note, Tijuana as a whole doesn’t look like this. It looks like any other large city in the states looks, just more Spanish).
We had walked through it and over to the side for the American border crossing in about 15 minutes. Ana and I both had Global Entry, so a quick show of our cards and passing of our purses through the X-ray machine had us back at the mall and in our Jeeps (Ana is a Jeep girl too, Cherokee, not Wrangler), in no time, ready to cross the border for real.
So, we did. With one barely-there-stop at the booths a mere moment later, we were in Mexico, and my cross-country road trip became international.
Day 1: Tijuana to San Quintín
We spent the night post-border crossing at Ana’s in Tijuana. Since we’d be staying in a mix of AirBnb’s, glamping, and hotels (it is way too hot in Baja during the late summer to sleep safely in the Jeep), that meant unloading most of my stuff before loading Ana’s.
By the time we were finished the inside of the Jeep looked like a storage closet at a yoga retreat, and Ana’s living room looked like a KOA rec room. Yoga mats, blocks, incense, paints, meditation shawls, all stacked next to fruits and veggies, and jugs of water inside the Jeep. Air mattresses, propane stoves, camp cooking equipment, and bear spray all stacked on top of each other in the corner of Ana’s living room. The ice chest and canopy made the cut for the Jeep—beach essentials—but outside of those items, I think there was a fair question as to whether we were road tripping for a few weeks or making our way to a spa.
In any event, while our purpose might have looked questionable, it wasn’t. Once Ana’s stuff was in, and my extra gear was out, we were on the road to San Quintín.
The first day was designed to be easy. A four-hour drive along the coastline and through the Valle de Guadalupe to San Quintín, where we’d spend the afternoon lounging on a wide, empty, white-sand beach.
Mexico’s Scenic Highway and Valle de Guadalupe
The scenic coastal drive along the Autopista Escencia (Mex. 1D) from Tijuana to Ensenada is purportedly one of the most beautiful drives in Mexico. While I don’t have many Mexican drives to compare it to, I can confirm it’s as beautiful as any drive along U.S. Hwy 1 and the California coast.
Once the winding coastal road leaves Tijuana, it opens up into sweeping views of the blue-green waters of the Pacific and Bahia de Todos Santos right past the city of La Misión. Golden cliffs jut out into the bay or end in white-sand beaches filled with sunbathers and surfers.
Yes, I took note of the surfers. My only addition to our itinerary had been to add in a surfing town, and not even a full day into the trip there I was, ready to hop out of the Jeep and catch some waves (or attempt to catch them, mostly, in my case). But we had our own beach to get to in San Quintín, and while I might have wanted to catch some waves, laying on a beach was probably more my speed post-broken mirror/Cathedral City adventures the day before.
As we headed past Bahia de Todos Santos, the coastal views gave out to glimpses of arid, rocky Mexican wine country in the the Valle de Guadalupe with vineyards dotting the landscape around us.
Eventually those were gone, replaced with the occasional one-street pueblo. Tiny Mexican cities so small that “ni tienen un Oxo,” per Ana. You see, just about everywhere in Mexico has an Oxo convenient store. Except for these little one-lane towns in Baja. While there might not have been any Oxos, there were taco stands, dusty school crossings, and the occasional llanteria (tire repair shop).
San Quintín from the Road
The drive was like that right up until we hit the dusty tree-lined street to Hotel Misión Santa María in San Quintín. Instead of dusty towns, we got a view of a beautiful traditional Mexican mission-style hotel, set in front of the promised white sand beach and deep blue Pacific waters.
San Quintín from the Beach
After a few photos of the entrance, and quick unloading of our mobile yoga studio, we were in our swimsuits and on the beach in record time. And that’s where we stayed, soaking up the sun and staring at the diamond studded sand right until the moment the tide nearly swallowed our sarongs while we lounged.
Day 2: San Quintín to Guerrero Negro
There are a few things you should know to understand the drive on our second Baja day. You have to cover a lot of distance to cross Baja, so inevitably we were going to have at least one long day of driving. To ensure we weren’t driving at night, we were also going to have at least one day sleeping at a place just to sleep, not to sightsee. That was day two and Guerrero Negro for us.
It’s not that there’s nothing to see in Guerrero Negro. There are giant sand dunes, salt mines, and whales in a nearby lagoon. But it wasn’t the right season for whales. And we’d both seen salt mines and dunes before, so we decided not to rush to Guerrero Negro. Instead we peppered the next six hours on the road with mini stops, a desert hike, and conversation about every topic under the sun.
- Mini-stop 1: Mama Espinoza’s
Our first stop post-San Quintín was breakfast. About an hour outside of San Quintín sits Mama Espinoza’s, a family restaurant in El Rosario del Arriba right off Hwy 1. Mama Espinoza’s was a “must see” for several reasons, but most importantly because it served breakfast and, more critically, coffee. Not to mention, its breakfast was Baja and TripAdvisor famous—lobster burritos.
Unfortunately, I can’t tell you if the lobster burritos were worth the hype. Lobster was out of season, and I had to settle for crab. I can assure you those burritos were chock-full of crab meat and the salsa was hot. If I hadn’t been sure I was in Mexico, well, the moment my eyes started watering post-breakfast salsa solidified it.
While not the reason we stopped, Mama Espinoza’s is also famous because it’s the official first checkpoint for the Baja 1000, an off-road race that takes place annually through the peninsula’s desert from Ensenada to La Paz. As a result of its check-point status it has Baja 1000 memorabilia everywhere and felt as much like walking into a museum for the race as it did a restaurant. I might have liked that look and feel even more than the crab burrito.
Mama Espinoza’s third claim to fame wasn’t something I learned about until after our breakfast, but I thought it worth mentioning to give you a sense of the place and of Baja.
It’s rumored that the Flying Samaritans, a volunteer organization that operates free medical clinics in Baja, started here. As the story goes, some unexpected visitors made an emergency plane landing near Mama Espinoza’s. While there, Mama Espinoza herself told them about hardships the small town faced due to then-recent flooding. From there, donations were collected, and doctors flew in to provide medical care. The volunteerism continues today, with doctors and the like flying into Baja to serve remote, underserved areas of the peninsula.
If the towns without Oxo’s didn’t paint the picture, perhaps the Flying Samaritans will. So much of Baja is un- or underpopulated. So much of Baja is remote. So much of Baja is untouched.
Which is why we stopped at Mama Espinoza’s, because as the sign says, for the next six hours, aside from some desert petroglyphs, there was basically nothing except us, the road, the desert before us.
- Mini-Stop 2: Petroglyphs, gas stations, and desert views
Fully caffeinated and extremely full, we got back on the highway, leaving all traces of the coast behind us as we entered the Valle de los Cirios, a protected area of the Mexican desert. The valle is most famous because it is home to the Boojum Tree, which is found only in Baja and the Sonoran Desert.
Valle de los Cirios
When I was planning this road trip and imaging landscapes worth viewing and drives worth making, I thought of alpine mountains, coasts, forests, lakes. I rarely thought of the desert. But every time I’ve driven through the desert on this trip, I’ve been in awe.
There is something raw about the desert. Its enchanting deep greens set against the starkness of the dry sand and cacti that tower over the road. The mix of colors in the desert, subtle hues of reds and orange moving up the low mountains and rocky terrain, all set off against the blue sky. The drive through Valle de los Cirios was nothing short of stunning, worth every hour we spent in it. And between the good conversation and beautiful views, it didn’t feel like we spent much of any time, much less 6 hours, on the road at all.
Catavina
About two hours into the drive we hit Catavina, a one-lane city of about 200 people that housed something just short of an Oxo (but no Oxo), a llanteria, and something close to a gas station that sold gas by the liter.
It’s also the starting point for off road treks to a not-so-far-off oasis and 8,000 – 10,000-year-old petroglyphs. We had originally thought about venturing to the oasis, but our stop at the almost-Oxo (see picture above, though that convo was actually about Princess, people love the purple) made it clear we’d need a guide and that it would take a few hours even with one. So, we opted for the petroglyphs, just a few minutes and short hike through the desert down the road.
I have pictures of the petroglyphs and the desert hike. They were both cool (well, actually it was sweltering) and, as you can see, memorable.
But they won’t be what sticks with me from that stop.
No, what I’ll remember is not pictured above: the toilets.
I will not scar you with the details, but the pit toilets at the petroglyphs left much to be desired. Indeed, touching of the toilet door alone left us both running for the car where we doused ourselves in sanitizer. And then the sanitizing spray for the yoga mats. And then the body wipes I’d stuffed under the seats for the days on the trip I hadn’t had access to a shower.
I am sure if there had been anyone around to see us, we looked absurd. Two women spraying each other down with yoga mat sanitizer between screeches of “que asco” (how gross). But I’m also 100% sure the spraying was necessary, even if the screeching was not. And, who cares, there wasn’t anyone in the desert anyway. We might as well spend the next 3 hours driving clean.
And so we did.
Fully sanitized, we got back on the road and headed to Guerrero Negro, where we closed out the day with showers, yoga, and a rose-red sunset from the hotel window.
* * *
While it might seem like a day that wasn’t much, as I went to bed that night and writing this now, I couldn’t and can’t help but think that you can’t ask for much more from a day on the road.
Good food and great stories. Unbelievable views and ancient drawings. Conversation enough to last 6 hours and 2 languages (Spanish and English). A sunset. And a memory all the sanitizer in the world won’t wash away, well, there’s nothing wrong with that.
1 thought on “Baja Road Trip: The road to La Paz (Days 1 & 2 – Tijuana to Guerrero Negro)”