My buddies, Fred and Ron (no last names per request), have asked me to plan a quad trip from our homes on Baja's Eastcape to Loreto, an off-road adventure of over 500 miles.  One of my hobbies is mapping the back roads of the peninsula, so it doesn't take much to sign me up. They are contemplating setting up an extreme touring business, and want to see if this route is feasible.

    I've planned a course mostly through the mountains, criss-crossing the peninsula, with camping stops at El Conejo on the Pacific side, as well as the remote outposts of Los Dolores and Agua Verde on the Sea of Cortez side. We'll also have hotel stops at Ciudad Constitucion and our destination at Loreto.  I've set aside 6 days to complete the trip, with 5 days of riding, with an extra day budgeted in case we run into any problems.

 Click here for a map of the planned route.

    We're traveling without a chase vehicle, requiring that we pact everything we need with us.  However, we're well-equipped, with three brand-new Yamaha 660 Grizzly 4x4 quads.  The ample racks are rated to carry nearly 300 pounds of gear, plus the rider; there's plenty of capacity to haul all our camping gear, clothes, food, water and extra gas (we need to have a 200-mile range between gas stops).  I've had ice chest racks fabricated for me and Ron, allowing us the luxury of cold drinks on the trail. Fred and I each are carrying GPS units and satellite phones, just in case we need to call the cavalry to the rescue.

    The route I've selected includes some destinations that have been on my want-to-do list for so long, they're gathering dust.  The billy goat-frightening trail down to Los Dolores, followed by an overland run along the beach to Timbabichi has been on my mind ever since my Jeep trip out there earlier this year.  Also, the holy grail of lost roads has been calling me - the trail from the Agua Verde turnoff from Hwy 1 through the hills to San Javier.  Finding a route through this area will open up the middle part of the peninsula to future quad trips.  All the published maps show this trail as abandoned, but as my past trips have shown, maps can be wrong. I also want to share the breathtaking views of the recently cut road from San Jose de la Noria, east of Constitucion, down to Agua Verde, a route not on any maps that I discovered during a 2003 Jeep trip (click here for for that story).

    Ron has volunteered to drive up to Loreto to position his truck there for the ride home.  Taking advantage of his trip, I've asked him to leave 25 gallons of gas at Las Pocitas, a stop on the highway between La Paz and Constitucion.  There's a rancher there that sells gas out of drums, but I don't want to be dependent on him, as we won't have enough gas to get anywhere if he's out when we pass by. Our buddy Al (thanks Al) is standing by in Los Barriles in case we need help.

    With all our preparations complete, it's time to ride -

DAY 1 - NOV. 3rd - EASTCAPE TO EL CONEJO

    The plan is to meet at Fred's, then head north along the coast road to Los Planes before cutting inland.  I want to be on the road by 9:00, as we have the longest leg today, about 150 miles.  Arriving at Fred's sharp at 9, he's not ready.  By the time we get his quad ready, then drop off the dog, it's nearly 10:30 before the spinning tires kick up some dust.  I sure hope this late start won't come back to haunt us later today.

    In our eagerness to get going, we've forgotten to take any photos of the start - oh, well!  As I'm going to be leading once we reach roads the others aren't familiar with, I ask Fred to take the first shift at setting the pace, and off we go up the coast road.  The ATV tires easily smooth out the washboarded dirt track, and soon we reach El Cardonal, where the new paved road from Los Barriles has recently been completed.

    Continuing on towards Los Planes on the narrow trail, we soon turn inland where we pass the spot our buddy Jim Bly died in a crash on a quad trip several years ago.  We planted a memorial marker at the spot shortly thereafter, and I'm pleasantly surprised to see a fresh garland of flowers hanging from the cross. Thanks to the kindly soul who remembered Jim with the flowers.

    Dropping into Los Planes, we decide to top off on gas here in case the Pemex station in San Antonio is dry (a common occurrence).  Topped off, Ron leads us up the dusty track to San Antonio, where we top off again, as this is the last gas available until we reach the fuel we left at Las Pocitas, sometime tomorrow.  We now perform our best 3 Stooges imitation, searching the village for ice.  We look high and low on every street of San Antonio, but nobody sells ice.  I've lived here for over 13 years, and search streets I never knew existed. Finally stopping a cop to ask for help, he directs us to the one last store we haven't already visited, and sure enough, they sell us enough chipped ice off a huge block to fill our coolers.  Refreshed with cold drinks and snacks, it's time to head west through the mountain trails. 

    Passing the farming village of Rosarito, it's time for me to start earning my keep, using the 300+ offroad waypoints stored in my GPS to guide us through the endless maze of ranch roads.  Arriving at the crossing with Highway 19, I stop and wait for the others, and wait, and wait, and wait. I'm just about ready to turn back to search for Fred and Ron, with the whine of their rapidly approaching quads fills the air.  Asking what happened, here's the side adventure I missed - Fred likes to push the envelope to see what the quad can really do.  While testing a steep climb, he managed to exceed the lateral stability design parameters of the quad.  In layman's terms, he had to bail out, leaving his quad unceremoniously on its side, requiring Ron to help him restore the quad to its normal operating position.  Since no harm befell rider or quad, we were able to laugh about it.  However, Fred now has a permanent new nickname - "Diff-Lock".

    It's now nearly 2pm, and I figure we have nearly 80 miles still to go to reach the goal for today, the fish camp known as El Conejo.  I pick up the pace as we cross the highway, and almost immediately make a wrong turn and wind up dead-ending at a rancho.  Getting us back on the right track, we soon reach the outskirts of the village of Meliton Albanez, where we now turn north for the run up the coast.  Another wrong turn (my fault) costs us a precious 20 minutes, but all's well that ends well as we're soon on the right course.  Pushing to make up for my mistakes, we're chewing up a lot of real estate, averaging about 50mph over rough terrain.  Soon I'm "in the zone", that place where I'm in perfect harmony with my surroundings, and the miles just peel away.  About 4:20 we roll into Conejo, stopping for some photos before moving on to our camp spot, behind a dune about a mile north of the navigational beacon.

    Setting up camp for the first time is an interesting study in the different way we each have decided to address our shelter needs.  Fred's background includes endurance racing in Central and South America, and he refuses to sleep on the ground (where he's been there are things that can eat you if you're on the ground), and has a camp-cot, and ingenious combination of tent and cot, which looks really neat, but seems to take forever to set up.  Ron has a small $19.95 single person tent, which to me looks like it would make a midget claustrophobic.  I think the guys are a bit envious when my spacious Apache instant tent goes up in about 15 seconds, but they don't say anything.

    Dinner is another example of the different way we approach meals.  I have a small butane stove for heating canned stew, while Fred boils water over a campfire for heating his packaged freeze-dried dinner.  Watching Fred and I prepare hot meals, Ron has a lost puppy-dog look in his eyes as he makes the best of cold canned tuna and crackers.  Some dried fruit I brought serves as a suitable dessert for all, and the rest of the evening is spent around the campfire.  The pounding surf on the other side of the dune is our lullaby. Nobody has trouble sleeping tonight.

    145 miles today

DAY 2 - Nov 4th - EL CONEJO TO LOS BURROS

    Morning brings a wet camp from the dew.  Arising shortly after dawn, I start looking for the tire tracks of the Mack truck I'd swear ran me over last night.  It takes a few minutes to get all the joints working - getting older sure is a bummer!  Fred & Ron seem to have the same affliction, but no-way they'll admit it.

    The one thing I refuse to compromise on is my morning coffee. While the morning sun works on drying out the camp, I make fresh java with a camping French press, much to Ron's envious eyes (he settles for instant coffee).  Breakfast is a couple of granola bars, and soon camp is dry enough to start packing. 

    Topping off the gas tanks with the extra fuel we packed, we're soon on the road north, with the beach and crashing surf on our left, and the stark cactus-filled desert on our right.  Turning inland at a desolate unmarked intersection, we soon reach the small village of Santa Fe, where we intersect a well-graded road out to Las Pocitas, on Highway 1.  There's a quaint store/restaurant there, and we take advantage of the stop to restock our water and have a meal cooked for us.  The 3-table dining area is surrounded by antiques, including an old foot-operated sewing machine and ancient hand-farming tools.  More ice chipped from a large block later, and we're on our way north through the desert, stopping first at the house Ron had left our gas at.  I guessed pretty well, as we use all but 1 quart of the 25 gallons Ron had left here.

    The road is well-used and maintained, and the pace is brisk. At La Soledad we turn west on the trail leading to San Luis Gonzaga, and begin a climb into the mountains, through numerous water crossings.  Reaching the crest, there's a spectacular view of the range stretching across the horizon below us, rivaling anything the Grand Canyon can offer.  Dropping down unto the high plateau, we soon reach the village of San Pedro de la Presa.  Stopping for a photo, my camera becomes the first victim of the trip as the shutter cover is jammed shut  From here on out, I'll be relying on Fred and Ron for photos.

    Reaching the turnoff for the road to Los Dolores, we're now in new territory.  Continuing north, we soon reach a small group of ranches with a large school.  Waving as we pass by, my GPS soon indicates we're getting close to what my maps tell me is an abandoned road leading out to Los Burros and Los Dolores on the Gulf shore.  Right on cue, the turnoff appears right where the GPS says it should be.  The road immediately gets worse, but the scenery is spectacular.  Getting close to the shore, I'm looking for a fork in the road to take us to Los Dolores, but can't find anything.  So we continue on down to Los Burros.  In many spots the road is so steep, it's been paved with rough concrete, to keep cars from slipping off into the abyss below.  After endless switch-backs, we eventually reach a surprisingly large community. Continuing on down to the beach, there's a commercial panga operation (which explains the paving on the road in).  Asking a pangero about the path to Los Dolores, he explains the road was abandoned some years ago, and anyone needing to get to Dolores simply walks the 2km along the rock-strewn beach.

    There's no sand on the beaches here, and the smell of dead fish permeates the air.  We decide we would rather camp up in the hills than down here, and continue our search for Los Dolores, retracing our path back up the grade.  Fred tries a couple of possible paths through rocky arroyos, but the sun is fading fast, and we're out of time for today.  We've also used our fuel reserve, and need to stop and regroup. We soon find a clearing between the boulders and cactus, and set up camp.

    As evening falls, our camp spot turns from a flat spot between cactuses to an enchanted locale, with starlight so bright, it's casting shadows.  Repeating last night's routine, I almost feel guilty (but not quite), watching Ron eat more canned tuna and crackers.  A group of cows provides tonight's entertainment, as they are obviously confused by the crazy gringos camped in their path.  Watching them try to find a way around us amuses us for the rest of the evening.

    128 miles today

DAY 3 - Nov 5th - LOS BURROS TO CIUDAD CONSTITUCION

    Another wet morning starts the day.  As soon as the morning coffee lubricates my brain, I start making fuel calcs.  If we make another attempt to reach Los Dolores and fail, we might not have enough fuel to get to the next gas at Constitucion.  That settles it, we'll go to Constitucion through San Luis Gonzaga.  Fred and I decide to return here next month better prepared to blaze a trail to Dolores.  Timbabichi will just have to wait until then.

    Backtracking to the intersection with the Gonzaga road, after a couple of miles I see a turnoff we want to investigate.  It dead-ends at a small rancho.  Taking advantage of the discovery, I talk with the rancher, who says he owns much of the area, from the mountain peak behind his ranch down to the beach.  He indicates the road to Dolores hasn't been passable for years,  confirming our decision to go around.  He also gives us details on where the intersection for the Dolores road is, whetting Fred's and my desire to come back to try again.

    Retracing our path back to where we turned off the main dirt road yesterday, we turn northwest towards San Luis Gonzaga.  This is a well-traveled road, with oncoming vehicle traffic our main concern.  Getting to Gonzaga, I inadvertently bypass the village, and wind up getting to La Presa through a previously unknown back road - time for another update to my map book.

    Every time I come through La Presa, I can't help but wonder what exactly is the function of this dam? There doesn't seem to be any evidence of a need for flood control.  Looking for a Mexican answer, I finally decide that some previous high-ranking government official must have had a brother in the concrete business.

    Moving on, we soon spread out as we enter the infamous silt bed on the way to Constitucion.  Watching the fine dirt hang in the air behind me, I'm sure glad to be out in front.  Through  the town dump, we soon reach the road leading to the large agricultural town of Ciudad Constitucion.  Passing my favorite chicken restaurant, my stomach is screaming at me to stop.  Watching Fred wolf down his lunch confirms I made the right call.  Fred wants to adjust the suspension on the quads, so I stop at the same mechanic shop that fixed my Jeep earlier this year.  A propina to the mechanic secures us a work area and tools, and soon the quads are ready to rock-n-roll.  A stop at the store for ice and drinks later, and were on the way to Hotel Oasis and hot showers.

    After nearly clogging the shower drain with dirt, we decide on Restaurant Taste for dinner.  I found this place during some of my previous Jeep trips through here, and have yet to have a bad meal there.  After another great meal, it's back to the hotel for subtitled Godzilla on TV, and the luxury of sleeping in a bed.  Taking off the hiking boots I'm wearing, I've got blisters on both feet - this will definitely be the last time I'll do one of these trips without wearing motocross boots.

    76 miles today

DAY 4 - Nov 6th - CIUDAD CONSTITUCION TO AGUA VERDE

    An inspection of the quads as we're packing reveals some wear and tear on my Grizzly.  One of the a-arm guards is broken, and the rear skid plate has an ominous bend.  We find a way to remount the a-arm guard, and the skid plate has been doing its job, protecting the underbelly of the quad.  If the Yamaha engineers ever saw a video of 300lb Roy carrying a full pack, bouncing off of rocks, getting air off the whoops at 60mph, they would faint.

    Breakfast at El Taste later (of course), its time for gas and ice.  I'm ready looking forward to today's run to Agua Verde, as the scenery is nothing short of spectacular.  Heading due east, we soon reach the well-graded main road to San Jose de la Noria, a ranch village noted for the large school there, serving the educational needs of the children for miles around. The road is wide and well graded, and for us, very boring.  I'm starting to sense that Fred and Ron were hoping for something more adventuresome, and I aim to deliver.  There's a lesser used north fork to Noria, and as I reach the turnoff, the choice was obviously the correct one, as we reach numerous rock beds and water crossings.

    About 20 miles later we rejoin the main road. Passing through San Jose de la Noria, the huge school serving ranch kids for miles around is the main attraction.  Further on, we reach the turn to Santa Marta, a rancho on the shore.  I've wanted to check this trail out, and as it's still early in the day, we've got time.  Following the tracks around a ranch house, we soon reach the end of the road, a clearing at nearly 2,000 feet of elevation, with a spectacular view of the Sea of Cortez below.  Backtracking our path, there's another trail heading towards the beach below.  However, soon it's obvious this path hasn't been used for some time, as I'm soon breaking branches off trees overgrowing the trail.  Enough of this - I'm going to Agua Verde.  Fred isn't happy with the decision, but we've got better places to visit.

    Reaching the summit before the infamous drop into Agua Verde, we stop to enjoy the spectacular vista only few people outside of the locals have ever seen.  When I first discovered this trail, it was barely wide enough to pass in the Jeep.  Now it's much wider and better graded.  The drop isn't nearly the white-knuckle, brake-chewing trip I was expecting.

    Arriving at the intersection with the main dirt road linking Agua Verde to Highway 1, we make the 1-mile journey to the village.  Noticing a sign that reads "Agua Verde Restaurant", this seems to be the perfect spot for food and drink before heading out to the camp spot.  Boy, was I wrong.  Asking the cook about food, I'm told if we're willing to wait, she can prepare chicken for us, pointing to a hatchet and the chicken coop.  "No, Gracias" I reply, and ask about fish.  She laughs and says there's been no fish here for years.  OK, how about some cold beers.  She replies that's no problem.  We sit down and are presented with 3 lukewarm beers which taste like camel pee.  Ron and I choke down the vile brew to be polite, but Fred wisely decides he's not thirsty.

    Engaging the cook in small talk, I'm surprised to find that more than 300 people call this spot home.  Cruising the village, we make a stop at the beach here and discover a small panga fleet and several gringo sailboats at anchor.  I'm told that often the bay looks like a marina, there's so many sailboats using the protection of the bay as an anchorage during their voyages through the Sea of Cortez.  Moving on, it's time to get to our camp spot for tonight.  This is a big moment for me; when I discovered the back way to here a couple of years ago in the Jeep, I promised to myself to return someday and camp at a secluded cove I found about 3 miles north of the village.  Arriving at the magical spot, it's perfect.  Ron and Fred comment that if the last few days were the main course, then this is the dessert.  Setting up camp just past the high tide mark, there's no way we're not getting into the water.  Swimming in the crystal-clear, bath-water-warm calm sea, pelicans are dive-bombing the water all around us, searching for lunch.  Schools of baitfish are crashing the still surface, trying in vain to escape the jaws of the unseen predators below (I'm now regretting not bringing my fishing tackle).

    Back on the beach, I watch the shadows getting longer as the sun fades below the huge peaks of the Sierra la Giganta mountains behind us.  Listening to the birds crashing and the fish jumping, one can't help but contemplate life.  Recalling the days of my youth, it brings a smile to my face, as I remember all the doctors who said I wouldn't live to be 30.  Now I'm laying on the beach in paradise without a care in the world, while all those doctors are now pushing up daisies. Now that's what I call poetic justice.

    Dinner is a repeat of canned stew, freeze-dried spaghetti, and cold canned tuna.  Afterwards around the campfire, I break out the flask of amaretto I've been hoarding.  A campfire on the beach plus liquor can only result in one thing - the conversation turns to women, a topic we all have lots of experience with, but never seem to get it right (that goes double for me!).  I think Fred and Ron are truly enjoying my tales of my younger days, when I was famous for taking spectacular-looking girls on our group trips to San Felipe, then sending them home on the bus when they wore my patience thin. 

    82 mostly excellent miles today

DAY 5 - Nov 8th - AGUA VERDE TO LORETO

    I'm really looking forward to today's planned run to Loreto.  Ever since discovering the back road into Agua Verde, I've been hoping to find a quad trail out the front side, which will allow us to pass through this area, instead of just using it as a destination.  The road out to Highway 1 is well-known, but getting from there to San Javier, in the mountains, is by no means certain.  My maps show several trails which are marked as deserted; I was also unable to find a way through during the Jeep trip in January, 2003.  If we can't find a way through, it means we'll have to backtrack all the way to Insurgentes, which will add an entire day to our journey.

    Yesterday I asked around in Agua Verde about a path to San Javier, and was told there's a new restaurant at the highway intersection, and the owner there knows the way.  Eager to find a connecting trail, we break camp as soon as the morning sun has dried the dew off our tents.  On the road, we cruise at a moderate pace, wanting to soak in as much of the natural beauty of this enchanted place before leaving it behind.  About 30 minutes into the trip to Highway 1, we reach the famous Agua Verde grade, our route up into the mountains.  As we're sharing the road with oncoming traffic, I keep a sharp eye out for dust clouds, the tell-tale sign of traffic coming our way.  Not seeing any cars up ahead, I'm moving way too fast around a blind corner and meet head-on with a slow-moving dump truck coming down the grade.  There's not even time for my life to flash before my eyes.  Locking up the brakes, I slide sideways right into the path of the behemoth's front tire, finally coming to a stop about 2 inches before becoming a Roy pancake on the Agua Verde grade.  Looking up into the terrified driver's eyes, we share a look which says we really dodged a bullet today.  Trying hard to keep my wildly-beating heart from jumping out of my throat, and not wanting to see if my hands are shaking, there's nothing I can do but shrug my shoulders, flash a sheepish grin to the truck driver, and pass between the truck and cliff face, yelling there's there's 2 more riders behind me.  Realizing I've just cheated death (once again!), I throw all caution to the wind, and peg the throttle wide open, all the way to Highway 1.

    Fred and Ron arrive shortly, and we waste no time in ordering a hot breakfast.  I ask the cook about a way to San Javier, and she calls her husband out to talk to me.  Breaking out my map book, he points out the way, starting with the trail cut into the grade right across the street, adding we should have no problem getting through to San Javier.  Giddy with anticipation of getting through this time, I'm eager to get started, wolfing down my breakfast.  All of a sudden a car passes on the highway, then stops and backs up to us.  It's Joel from our favorite taco stand back in Los Barriles.  He's on his way to Tijuana to pick up stock for his wife's store, and recognized our quads as he passed.  We exchange greetings, and as he disappears in the distance, we begin the last leg (I hope) of our journey.

    The route shown to me is by no means direct, as the trail meanders through the floor of various canyons and arroyos.  I was told the various ranchos are populated, necessitating the road be in good shape.  Following the tire tracks is a breeze, and we're enjoying the rolling meadows and water crossings. Missing a turn, I wind up several miles off-course before realizing the mistake.  Stopping at a ranch house, I'm told the road I'm on comes out at km45 on the highway.  Making note for future reference, we retrace our route, and soon find the missing turn.

    I was told to look for a certain intersection to turn at, and here it comes, right where it should be.  Continuing on, I use the GPS to make some lucky guesses at various crossings, and we're still moving in the right direction. I'm sensing we're going to get through, and as a smile comes to my face at the thought of completing this long-sought route, the bugs are hitting my teeth, and I don't care a bit.  All of a sudden my quad is all over the trail. Looking down, it's a dreaded flat tire.  Almost looking forward to using the high-tech plug kit and compressor I'm carrying, my spirits take a nosedive as I pull a branch the size of my thumb out of the tire.  I'm amazed that 2 self-vulcanizing plugs completely seal the hole.  A couple minutes of the compressor later, and the flat is a distant memory - it could have been a lot worse!

    Moving on, my GPS says we should be nearing the intersection with the road to San Javier, but the road soon turns south - we're going the wrong way.  I stop everyone and start backtracking, but something tells me this isn't right.  Having doubts this close to success is tearing me apart.  Stopping again, we decide I'll reverse course again, and go up a couple of miles while the others wait.  Going through a couple of closed gates, the road soon turns westerly, and after a couple of miles I go around a corner and see the best sight of the day - its the wide graded road to San Javier - we made it!  Going back for Fred and Ron we triumphantly cruise into San Javier, where a visit to the famous church (completed in 1699) is mandatory.  A beer later at a local restaurant, and we're off on the last leg of this adventure, the 20-mile run down to Loreto.

    Pulling into Loreto about 4pm, we check into the Hacienda Suites Hotel, our victory complete.  Showers and a change of clothes later, we walk on over to the nearby El Nido Restaurant, where our ravishing appetites are sated only after polishing off stuffed clams, then each of us having no problems finishing a full shrimp dinner followed by a complete carne asada dinner.

    Back to the hotel for a couple of nightcaps at the hotel bar, and this adventure is complete.

    108 miles today - 539 total for the trip

    click here for a map of the actual route covered.

DAY 6 - Nov 9th - EPILOGUE

    Loading up the quads first thing, it's a stop at Macaw's Restaurant on the Loreto waterfront for breakfast, then on home to Las Barriles and La Ribera. (Ron, thanks for driving!)  Diff-Lock and I are planning on returning next month in a better prepared attempt to open up the Los Dolores-Timbabichi route.

I love this stuff!

Roy - Sr. Divertido - Magellan - Baldwin

"Go Everywhere, Do Everything!"

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