Sometimes you get into a place and your immediate reaction is to just run away as soon as possible. That's how I felt when I rolled into San Quintín.
The day's ride from Diáz Ordáz had already been hard on my nerves. The highway's shoulder had reappeared briefly, but then it vanished just as quickly, only to come back to tease me off and on again. I have talked about soft shoulders, sandy shoulders, and disappearing shoulders, of which now I got to know the Mexican varieties. Though here I was also introduced to trashy shoulders and the treacherous crater shoulders, which were essentially potholes that had been paved over... except for on the shoulder where I was riding.
To make things worse, the two-lane road was barely able to handle the heavy traffic, and I would regularly get honked at, to get off the road. I obliged, let everyone behind me pass, but two minutes later the same thing would repeat again, until I decided that I'd make more progress riding down in the dirt. Sometimes, usually when I passed the huge berry-packing or coke bottling plant, the shoulder was wider than the lanes themselves, running along the length of the entire facilites, but as soon as I was past them, things returned to their frustrating normality.
This is how I reached San Quintín, where my WS host was waiting for me. I remember the beautifully quaint Mexican small town in my mind, but the reality of the place was nothing like it. The highway was more of the same as I got to experience all day. And once I turned into a side street everything stopped... Unpaved surfaces made of sand, gravel, but mostly fine brown dust. It was so light, even a strolling dog whirled up a dust cloud. And huge empty spaces with a house here, a shack there, or a ruin in between. This is how I imagine Afghanistan. I don't mean to be ripping on Afghanistan, I'm sure it has some gorgeous spots, just like every country. But the stereotypical image was on the spot.
My host Jorge also explained that it's not a good idea to keep the windows open, as the dust would get in, settling on everything. He also said that it rained no more than 150 mm a year, but when it did, the effects were close to a blizzard in other places. The clay dust turned into heavy mud, shutting down traffic on the unpaved streets. I managed to hold myself back, but I felt like asking him: "Why do you live in such a horrible place?" It didn't take me long to find out though.
Jorge is a biologist, and among other projects in this region, he has written a book on all the birds you can find in the San Quintín valley, most of which are migratory. Apparently there is a huge biodiversity of numerous species, thanks to the vast habitats the natural conditions provide. It's amazing what you can find once you venture outside ... hahaha, I feel ridiculous calling this "civilization"!
Following Jorge's recommendation, I hiked out to the nearby volcanoes. I left my bike at home, as I already knew that the terrain would probably make both of us suffer. Besides, I was going to cross sand dunes and climb volcanoes. There are seven to twelve of them, depending on how you count, all along the coast, with an array of bays, capes, marshes, long sandy spits, beaches, and tall rocky shores. It's quite a complex system of a great variety. No wonder birds love it here, and of course a bunch of other life forms.
Walking out of the town was hardly inspiring, and even the village of Chapala was just more dustbowl settlement. Past it, however, things started to change. By the time I reached the Ceniza volcano, it was actually quite pretty. Long strands of moss (or was it lichen?) grew from the porous volcanic rock, making the hillside shine silver-green. From the top of Ceniza I had a fantastic view over the different types of lands and waters as they wove in and out of each other.
After descending from Ceniza, I walked around what's called False Bay past many oyster farms, to the volcano known simply as Sudoeste, that is Southwest. After stopping in the village of La Chorera for a delicious sea-food meal at the Marea Baja 4x4, I walked along the beach to the volcano. There was even a sign that camping was allowed, so I did not even try to hide while making myself at home in mom's house.
The next day I got up bright and early, taking advantage of the cloudy mornings, to climb the volcano. Another magnificent view gave me a perfect start for the day. My walk back to town was cut short as the same lady who had served me in the Marea Baja restaurant happened to pass me in her car, and stopped to give me a ride.
The following day Jorge took me on one of his bird projects, looking for the endangered Least tern who is known to choose the dry lakebed of Laguna Figueroa as nesting ground. We saw the bird, though it still just before nesting season. Jorge volunteers his efforts in monitoring this bird, its eggs, chicks, ringing hatchlings and all, which the US Fish and Wildlife service receives valuable information from. So I took this as as an immersive opportunity of some deep eco-tourism.
Thanks to Jorge, my first impressions of this ugly, dusty town turned into something valuable. In fact, now I look at San Quintín as a beautiful experience, and a place I can most highly recommend. Though I must admit, it is not the actual settlement, but the surrounding nature that's worth seeing.
What an amazing place to camp!
And what a cool journey you are making! Enjoy!
Thank you! Yes, it all creates itself. I'm just kinda riding the wave... 😁
I’d say that besides being a destination for ecotourism, the good people of San Quintín make it a great treasure. Birding, photography… it’s wonderful and I love the way you’ve described it.
That car over there is very striking, just like the many that roll around here in Havana.
Oh, you're hiving from Cuba? Great respect! And that car, I'm quite sure it hasn't rolled in many years. (Or who knows, one may still be surprised...) As for the good people of San Quintín? My host says that most of them don't even know the natural beauty they are living next door to. And even if they do, they don't care. So sad...!
😱 Ah, I thought that the very kind woman who gave you a lift, and your host who seems to be a really cool guy, were examples of the good people from that place… hahaha.
Yes, I’m Cuban… what a disgrace 🤦♀😂
They totally are, but also quite exceptional in both cases.
The view from the top of the volcanoes is truly magnificent. You must have suffered to get there, especially on your bike. But that octopus dish is the ultimate reward, one of my favorites, pulpo al olivo; just mentioning it makes me hungry 😀
What a trip... it's cool to follow all of this.
Enjoy
Nice! I'm glad you're enjoying it. But I did not ride my bike up the volcano! I hiked all the way, from the house to the reserve, up both mountains, around the bay, and down the beach. It was a good 50 km walk! Sure, by bike it would have been faster at times, but also more frustrating. Plus, climbing the volcanoes was not even accessible by bike, so I would have had to leave her at the access point, where there was nothing to lock her to. So yeah, I'm pretty glad I left her at my host's house!
Yes, I understood that you had walked to the summit... I would have been impressed,, you were ready for the Tour de France 😀 But your ride on the "potholes path" along the road full of cars and trucks, was already impressive.
Hahaha, if the Tour de France had to handle the kind of potholes (plus semi trucks, two way traffic, and whatnot) I would be totally down to watching it!