A Surfer and His Dog Explore Baja California
When all’s said and done, I’ve probably spent over a year of my life exploring Mexico. I absolutely love the country. And Mexico’s crown jewel is its nearly 1,000 mile-long western peninsula known as Baja California and Baja California Sur.
It’s a region that’s relatively safe from banditos and drug cartels, especially when compared to the mainland. While driving at night remains highly inadvisable due mostly to unrestrained herds of roaming cattle, and various bad seeds that tend to wander the Mexican roads when the sun sets, Baja remains relatively free of cartels and the drug trade that has brought rampant corruption and violence to the mainland region of Mexico.
The last time I had visited Mexico was for a road trip from San Francisco to Los Cabos, located on the southern tip of Baja California Sur. Once you cross the border, it’s a three day journey of over a 1,000 miles each way, in a world that is quite possibly the last vestige of the Wild West. It was certainly an adventure filled with many wild happenings. That road trip took up a rather large portion of my book Dogwild & Board: Stories, Interviews and Musings from a Surf Journalist and is featured in my personal travel blog.
I was excited to return to Baja. It’s one of the appealing factors of living in the San Diego area, being so close to the adventure, excitement, affordability, debauchery and waves of Mexico. I didn’t have the time to drive all the way to the southern tip though. I wanted to go somewhere reasonably close, with some good surf and a cheap place to stay.
And unlike my previous adventure, this time I had my best friend Indiana (Indy for short) with me, a half-English Bulldog, half-Boxer bundle of fun and joy.
The drive from Tijuana to Ensenada is amazingly beautiful, with nearly the entire drive set right alongside the Pacific Ocean on a freeway that’s in great condition, thanks in large part to the tolls that are affordable and highly recommendable. When you go beyond Ensenada, that’s when the last remnants of the Wild West truly begin. Out here, and for the next 800 miles or so, with the exception of various small towns, it’s desolate and barren.
Anyone who surfs knows the legends lore regarding the surf in Baja. And after searching various websites and surf travel books covering the region, I found a place that seemed natural to venture to: A small Mexican beach town named Eréndira.
Eréndira
My research revealed a plethora of great surf spots near Eréndira, and the town had a hostel and campsite called Coyote Cal’s that (from their website) seemed fun. While most of the rooms there are designed for large groups of people, they had single rooms available for those wanting privacy. Individual rooms for very affordable prices was a huge appeal to me.
Having plenty of experience from my previous Baja California road trip, I made all the necessary preparations. Mexican auto insurance (which quite possibly saved me a lot of money and a trip to a Mexican jail); a temporary change to my cellular plan so I had international coverage; paperwork showing proof of rabies vaccination within the past 12 months for Indy; my passport; a vehicle clean of any illegal substances and materials; and directions.
I was set to return to Mexico.
Driving through Tijuana is very easy, as the road leads directly from the border to the coast. Along the way there’s a view of the Tijuana Slough National Wildlife Refuge and beyond that the San Diego city skyline, before the road veers south towards Rosarito. From there, it’s approximately two hours of blissful driving with an incredible coastal view before reaching Ensenada.
Driving through Ensenada takes close to an hour. It’s endless sprawl that starts with the downtown area and turns into miles and miles of businesses, shacks and horrible air pollution thanks in large part to a lack of vehicle emission regulation that’s custom with most developing nations.
It’s really crazy to breathe the air in Ensenada. It makes Los Angeles seem like an eco-friendly paradise.
I eventually passed through Ensenada and hit the open road again. The directions provided by Coyote Cal’s website claimed that the turn to Eréndira was at the 78 KM sign, with a newly paved road for easy driving. For whatever reason, I missed the turnoff, even though there were obvious signs everywhere. I must have been daydreaming while driving through the desert. Baja California, with the exception of its large cities, is exceptionally beautiful country.
I drove 30 miles past the Eréndira exit and approached the town of San Vicente. It’s here where I filled up my Toyota 4Runner (an exceptional vehicle that with 4WD could take you pretty much anywhere) with Pemex gasoline, which is considerably cheaper than gas in the United States thanks in large part to the country nationalizing its oil reserves.
I turned around and found the turn off for Eréndira. I don’t know how I missed it to begin with given the huge signs announcing where the road is. From the exit, it’s another 16 miles before reaching the small and quiet coastal town.
In the directions I printed out from Coyote Cal’s website, there were two warnings listed: To drive very slowly over the topes, or speed bumps, which are incredibly large and could potentially cause significant damage to a vehicle if driven over quickly. There are nine of them total in the town. The second warning was to make sure to come to a complete stop at the town’s two stop signs, particularly the one in front of the police station.
The stop signs in Mexico are different than the ones in the United States in that they’re considerably lower, usually around five feet tall, and very easy to miss. The white lines on the road that accompany stop signs in Mexico are almost always faded, and it didn’t help that the sun was directly in my face as I entered the town late in the afternoon.
So what did I do? I ran a stop sign directly in front of Eréndira’s police station.
Within seconds, the roaring siren and flashing lights of a local federale vehicle was behind me. I didn’t know why I was being pulled over initially and was startled. And anyone who knows anything about Mexico knows the Golden Rule: Avoid Mexican prisons at all costs.
They asked me to turn around and drive to the police station. There, they proceeded to do a search of my car while Indy and I waited. They asked me questions such as why I was there, what my profession was and whether I was smuggling drugs. I emphatically told them I would never disrespect their country by bringing drugs in and risk getting into that kind of trouble.
During the search one of the officers, the one who asked most of the questions, found a packet of rolling papers in my glove compartment. Not the orange packet mind you; the white one. I don’t know how many years this thing had been stuck between all the paperwork I had saved in my glove compartment, yet there it was.
While I was dumbfounded and tried explaining the papers were purchased a very long time ago, it immediately drove the officer’s ambition of finding something in my car into another gear.
They eventually tried to get me to pay $100 U.S., which I objected to as being too much money, and eventually they asked for $30 U.S. which all things considered I didn’t think was such a bad deal to avoid going to a Mexican prison. I would later discover the penalty for running a stop sign in Mexico is 300 pesos, which converts close to $30 U.S. They gave me a receipt for the transaction, and I was on my way.
I drove through the town of Eréndira. It’s quaint and has various markets and small restaurants, in addition to a school. Everything looked abandoned, as most small towns in Mexico seem to look.
The paved road came to an end, at which point I drove a couple of miles on a dirt road along a cliff edge adjacent to the Pacific Ocean.
After approximately two miles of driving on a rough dirt road, there in the distance was Coyote Cal’s.
Inside, a woman was playing video games. She was sitting in a spacious room, with various couches and chairs lined in front of an old TV. The far end of the room had a large kitchen. There were huge windows that faced the ocean, presenting an incredible view. I took this as the lobby and community area of Coyote Cal’s.
The woman’s name was Lulu and she was strict about letting Indy inside the lobby area. I’ve never understood those kind of rules banning pets. Kids make much bigger messes and cause way more damage than a dog ever would, and especially a well-trained dog like Indy. I abided though.
Lulu gave me a form that required basic information such as name, address and contact information. She told me the one room at Coyote Cal’s that allows dogs wasn’t cleaned yet, so I had to wait an hour before my room was ready.
Most of the rooms at Coyote Cal’s, which advertises itself as a hostel and campground, are for more than one person. Fortunately they also have single rooms and while it’s as basic as it gets, it had been a long drive and was nice to lie down and relax for a bit.
Coyote Cal’s is also the home of the only bar in Eréndira. After settling in, Indy and I went to the bar, which was located outside my room in a courtyard.
Lulu was bartending. I sat down and asked for some local añejo tequila. It was delicious. I ordered a beer and it was around this time when a middle-aged man and three younger gentlemen came out of the lobby to the courtyard where the bar was.
They were a family, a father and his three sons. Great company. The father was an expat who moved to Tecate when he was a kid. He had a hearing impediment which I believe was part of the reason, or the main reason, why he started a school for the deaf in the area many years ago that he continued to run with his three sons. We chatted and drank for hours and they all loved Indy.
We eventually called it a night and headed to our rooms, although I didn’t get to sleep until many hours later. Three large intimidating men had arrived shortly before myself and the family went to our rooms.
They were drinking, playing darts and having a raucous time just outside my door. They spoke English, which was unusual to me, and they seemed to know Lulu, which is probably why they were allowed to make noise and stay so late.
I realized when I was in bed that I didn’t have any dinner that evening. Coyote Cal’s has a bar, yet no food of any kind except for the free breakfast they advertised serving from 7:30 to 9 a.m. I had brought some granola bars, and that was my dinner before going into a drunken slumber.
I awoke early the next morning. The sun wasn’t shining. It was overcast and cold. I was curious to see what the free breakfast was all about, so I went into the common area, with the old TV, and the video game system, and the couches, and the kitchen, and the windows which overlooked the Pacific Ocean. It was quiet.
There was coffee brewed, and Lulu was on the phone again. She was in some weird little cupboard which I took as a room where hotel business was conducted. I assumed she was talking to her girlfriend again.
I stood there for 20 minutes observing the ocean. There were waves. Plenty of them. And wind, which made going into the Pacific that morning seem so uninviting.
I started observing my map of Eréndira and the surrounding villages, with the prime surf spots supposedly in the Punta Cabras region which looked to be a 15 mile drive north on dirt roads. I was debating whether to explore that region or return to the freeway and head north to waves I knew would be amazing.
Lulu saw me standing there and asked what I wanted for breakfast. Options were eggs, waffles or pancakes. I was dismayed at the coffee condiment options. Powdered creamer and a bowl of crusted sugar that had some weird black things in it. I’m addicted to coffee, so I had a cup. It wasn’t bad.
It wasn’t cold in a “midwest winter” sort of way, but rather in an “I didn’t bring my wetsuit and it’s really windy and dreary” sort of way. And I wasn’t digging the vibe there. So I decided to leave Eréndira and head north on the freeway.
I said goodbye to Lulu, packed my things and loaded them into the car. Exploring the waves of Eréndira was a mission meant for another trip. I was being a bit soft I know, but without a wetsuit the cold, dreary and overcast day wasn’t appealing for surfing.
Plus I knew there were other waves waiting for me.
Puerto Nuevo
The drive north was relatively uneventful until I made it to one of my favorite cities in Baja California: Puerto Nuevo. The plan that day was to head to a motel that a friend of mine had strongly recommended, a placed called Robert’s K38 Surf Motel that was dog friendly, had clean rooms and featured one of the best waves in the world literally right in front of the establishment.
About two hours after leaving Eréndira I stopped in Puerto Nuevo to have some cheap lobster for lunch. For less than $20, I gorged on lobster, chips and salsa. It was delicious. Indy was allowed to sit with me on the patio, and the view was spectacular.
After lunch I drove a relatively short distance north from downtown Puerto Nuevo and checked in to Robert’s K38 Surf Motel. It really is an amazing setup. They have a variety of rooms, so whether it’s a large party, or a surfer and his dog, they probably have the room for you.
Their website does say, “We discourage our guests from bringing their dogs but will accommodate your pet for an additional $10 a night,” but we were greeted in a very friendly manner and the owners had their dogs on the premises that day.
It’s a family owned and operated establishment that only takes reservations with email. The easiest way to find the motel is to spot the biggest Jesus statue you’re probably ever going to see in your life on the east side of the freeway.
There’s no doubt that petty crime exists in this part of the world, but fortunately the motel has a secured parking lot. For surfers making the day trip to surf the famed K38 break, Robert’s K38 Surf Motel charges a meager $5 to park there all day to surf amazing waves.
There’s one vitally important accessory that I consider a mandatory necessity when surfing the clean, pristine waves of K38: Booties. The bottom of the ocean floor here is full of jagged reef and sea urchins.
I gave myself a healthy gash on my arm that nearly needed stitches just from swiping a reef while paddling. You might look like a goober wearing booties with board shorts, but the risk of significant damage to the bottom of your feet is worth the fashion faux pas.
I surfed for two hours and caught some long, sweeping rights. The entire time I was out there, I saw two people.
At one point, I had this incredible right-hand point break all to myself for nearly an hour. A young grommet who couldn’t have been older than 10 later paddled out and joined me. He wouldn’t surf the set waves, so even when he was in the lineup with me I had the best waves to myself.
It truly was an incredible day of surfing.
It was getting close to dinner time and I noticed a restaurant just down the street, within walking distance, from the hotel that had a significant amount of cars parked outside. A large customer base is usually a good sign for an eatery.
The restaurant was called Charly’s Place.
A part of the restaurant had a canopied area with dirt flooring where dogs were allowed. So Indy sat there with me while I ate amazing chips and salsa, delicious carne asada tacos and drank cervezas. It was perfect.
Great service and some of the best tacos I’ve ever had. Ever. And I consider myself a taco connoisseur. And the owner, Charly, and his staff were such incredibly friendly people.
An hour later I said goodbye to Charly and his staff, and went to sleep with a full belly and muscles sore from a long day of surfing.
Heading Home
One of the worst parts of the return drive from Mexico is the Tijuana border crossing. At a minimum, regardless of the time of day, it’s a two-hour wait and sometimes much more.
Shortly after leaving Puerto Nuevo the next day, I saw a sign for Tecate and remembered people telling me that the border crossing there was much quicker and smoother. I made the turn.
It was a relatively easy 20-mile drive heading east. The freeway ventured through the outskirts of Tijuana, followed by miles of barren desert.
Tecate is the polar opposite of Tijuana. It’s a very quiet city. All the chaos and bustle that one finds in Tijuana is vacant in Tecate.
Crossing the border was much faster and smoother here. The border patrol agents were smitten with Indy. One of them was a beautiful woman who let Indy smother her with kisses.
A German Shepard K9 unit, probably there to sniff out drugs and contraband, started barking at Indy. A border patrol agent tightened the dog’s leash and waved us through.
The roads here were winding as we made our way back home to Encinitas, refreshed from the amazing waves and great food, exhausted from the first day’s experience, and smiling from yet another exciting adventure in Baja California.
