Baja Sur Unplanned
The Semana Santa sun set at around six in the Baja peninsula and it was a two–hour drive to the camp site. We left at three.
Planning is not something we think about too often — not even sensible departure times. At least not until it is too late to rip its benefits. We like the thrill of being on the edge of calling off our last–minute adventures. This will be painfully obvious to those on our side of the trenches but borderline cancelled fun is so much sweeter than itinerary–respecting fun. Much anticipated events carry high expectations. Last–minute ones can only get better. What this says about our personalities is to be pondered some other day but for now we can agree our logic holds.
Aside from establishing its length and modes of transportation, our Baja Sur trip was unplanned. It’s worth mentioning that two young women offroading in Mexico in the post–Calderón era merit turning the adrenaline knob up a notch.
We ended up sneaking our way into the beach camp ground after dark. Our tent–setting skills were rusty, even for those modern tents you just throw in the air for them to land assembled. But there were too many parts to throw in the air for the borrowed tent we had brought with us, which meant we were going to need two things we didn’t pack: patience and a lantern.
Poetics aside, it turned out the full moon rising above us was all we needed.
I also happened to be in the middle of a dietary regime where the only alcohol I was allowed to ingest was distilled liquor, so I brought with me a litre of Sotol in a glass bottle. And though we did not bring a lantern, we did bring a pocket flashlight that came in handy 784 days after its purchase.
We dined by bottlelight.
Sleeping on sand while lulled by the waves is slightly overrated. Waking up in a tent on a beach to pelicans fishing at sunrise is not.
And to think we almost missed out on it all!