It was the year of the big El Nino. I was camped at my favorite spot and only 2 other camps were there. The weather was as humid as the tropics. At least 80%-85% humidity and the air temp was 85-90 degrees. The mosquitoes were thick as any place I’d ever been. I couldn’t believe that this was the arid Baja I was so use to. It had been raining so much over the last few months that every square inch of land was covered with flowers. It was the most beautiful I’d ever seen it. Yellows, greens, reds, violets and oranges filled the landscape. The air was still, not a breathe of wind and the sweat was pouring off just sitting still. The water temp was in the 80’s. The surf was 2-4 foot and real good form. It was quite an accomplishment if I could get from my camp to the shoreline without acquiring more than 10 mosquito bites.
I had to fully cloth with my trunks on and run waving my towel frantically around me trying to keep the mosquitoes at bay. Then shed my clothes as fast as possible and try and maneuver over the rocks fast without spraining an ankle and keeping the mosquitoes away which got me no less than a dozen or more, sucking my blood before I was deep enough to submerge myself and find relief. It stayed like this for about a week. Then about the fourth day, in the night, in the southern skies I could see what looked like the skies of Desert Storm. It looked as though a war was going on. I didn’t think much of it because I’ve seen those kinds of skies plenty of times in years past. Summer storms, hurricanes down south so I wasn’t thinking that anything different was happening. I had no idea that the hurricane down south would be coming directly at me that same night.
I had just had a great evening surf session and was looking forward to another great one in the morning. That night it started to drizzle just after sunset. Within a few hours it started to get a little breezy and the rain began getting increasingly harder. I began putting a few things under the Big Red. The rain was actually a welcomed relief because it kept the mosquitoes away. I had no screens on my doors so my doors were shut all the time and it was like a sauna inside. If I went outside I’d get eaten alive. If I stayed inside it was guaranteed a sweat box, there was no relief except in the ocean but it was night time. It began raining harder and harder and the wind was really starting to pick up now. The time was around 9 or 10 p.m.. The it began blowing so hard that I began pulling things inside Big Red. Everything was soaking wet and it was no use having clothes on so All-Natural was my dress code.
Each time I went out the rain came in and the wind kept picking up in velocity to where it was in the 50-60 mph range and rising. Big Red was getting a good shaking. Within an hour all hell was breaking loose. It was now blowing somewhere in the 70-80 mph velocity and the rain was pouring down and in every crack in the windows and doors. Now I was starting to get concerned. I knew I was in for a long night. I knew now that the hurricane I had been watching the last few nights was outside in my neighborhood knocking at my door. I had to start Big Red and move it so the corner of the rig was splitting the direction the wind was coming from. I didn’t want the wind hitting directly on its side, thinking if it got much worse it could possibly roll It over on its side. The winds were so strong by this time it was as if I was driving down the worst dirt road in Baja at 65 mph. I was rocking and rolling like a corn kernel in a popcorn pan. Things outside began flying around so I decided to go and fetch what I could before I lost all of my boards. I opened the door and jumped out just in time to see one board take off in the dark into the desert. I went to grab my other board and my dog took off somewhere.
I yelled for him but the wind was blowing so hard I could hardly hear myself yell for him. When I turned around I could see Big Red starting to billow smoke at the passenger door. I thought to myself, “Oh great, here I am in the middle of Baja in my birthday suit and Big Red is going to go up in smoke and I’ll be standing here bear butt naked holding my surfboard in the middle of a hurricane!” I ran to Big Red to see what was up and the wires from the solar panel that were attached to the battery were shorting out and starting to melt red hot on the carpet. Seems as though by leaving the door open the rain which was now horizontal to the ground, had flooded across my battery and caused a short in the solar panel wires. The carpet was smoking up a storm and Big Red was filled with smoke so I just grabbed hold of the wires and yanked them from the battery and let the rain soak the carpet and stop the smoke. I grabbed another board from underneath the rig and stuffed it into Big Red. My chairs and some camping stuff were on lift off with no chance of catching it. I would just have to wait out the hurricane and look in the morning.
By now my dog had decided he didn’t want any flying lessons so he came back and jumped in Big Red and we rode it out till morning. About 4 a.m. the hurricanes worst part had passed by and by daylight it was calm. The waves were huge. So huge they were breaking out as far as you could see. I couldn’t tell exactly how big they were but they must have been 30 to 40 feet. I found out later in my trip that the winds had peaked at 95 mph and that the eye of the hurricane had passed less than 20 miles from me. There were fish on the road from the hurricane, it must have picked them up similar to a tornado and thrown them around. Quite a night.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Glen's 62nd Birthday Bash!
Hi!
We just got back from another 4 month trip down in Baja! We had great waves and another fun birthday party for Glen!
We just got back from another 4 month trip down in Baja! We had great waves and another fun birthday party for Glen!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
"Through the hills of Baja with NO brakes! Who needs brakes?"
It was March 2008 and we were on our way to one of our favorite spots in Baja. We were heavily loaded with supplies to work on our tree house and pulling the Samurai as well. The summer before I had rebuilt the engine in Big Red and put a new system of brake lines and master cylinder in. We were just about 25 miles north of Lake Chapala when I noticed there was something going on with the brakes. They started feeling a little soft in the brake pedal. I’ve felt that feeling before when my brakes had given out, but this time I had a whole new system in so there shouldn’t be anything wrong. I wasn’t using the brakes that much for Big Red has a five speed transmission which allows me to use the gears instead of using the brakes constantly.
I was hoping my hunch was wrong but the next time I stepped on the brakes I felt that lousy feeling again and my hunch was right, something was up with the brakes. I didn’t say anything to Roberta because I didn’t want her to worry. So I began driving a little slower and making sure that I didn’t have to reply on the brakes, I needed to save them for when I would really need them. As I was driving along, I was trying to figure out what the problem could be. The next time I needed to use the brakes the pedal went almost to the floor. I was completely out of brakes! I figured a good place to pull over with what little of the brakes was left would be Lake Chapala where the restaurant was. There were truckers there and a good long flat area in case the brakes failed completely. But before the next turn in the road I needed to use the brakes and they were gone. I gave a little statement of excitement and Roberta asked me what was wrong and I said nothing, just thought something was up with the engine, but not so. We got to Lake Chapala and pulled off to the side of the road with no brakes so I was down shifting until I was in 2nd gear, then I shut the engine off and let the engine stop us. I then told Roberta we were out of brakes and had been for the last 10 miles. I got out to see if I could tell what was wrong and it was easy to see. The back right rear wheel was covered in brake fluid. I had Roberta step on the brake and the fluid was leaking fast.
First we had to unhitch the Samurai. We had about 2 hours, maybe 2 ½ hours of daylight left so we decided to head for Guerro Negro and try to make it before dark. I would use the gears and go slow on the down hills. We had walkie talkies so we could communicate while driving. I wanted Roberta to drive the Samurai . This would take some of the weight off Big Red and so Roberta wouldn’t be in Big Red also for her safety. So we were off and everything went well. It was easy with the gears that I have, the new engines compression made the down shifting easy to control Big Red.
We were about 65 miles into driving and talking back and forth. We were climbing a gentle grade which at the end of its downhill side is a dangerous curve at the bottom of it. I was talking with Roberta on the walkie talkie and let my timing of shifting the gears go a little to long, for when I shifted into 3rd gear I realized I was going a little to fast to downshift into 2nd and I was already at the top and beginning to descend down the backside of the hill and steadily gaining speed instead of slowing down so I could shift into 2nd gear. If I shifted into 2nd gear now I would probably blow the engine. I got a real lousy feeling as I began gaining speed and approaching one of the more dangerous curves in Baja. Plenty of accidents happen on this curve. Now here I am going way too fast! As I start into the turn, Big Red is starting to lean so I instinctively start pumping the brakes but there are none! Now I need to make a decision fast. Do I go wide on this blind curve and hope there are no cars coming or do I stay in my lane and hope Big Red doesn’t roll. It feels as though its going to roll the way it’s already leaning and I’m only just beginning to take the turn so I decide to take it wide into the other lane, all the while stretching my neck as far as I can to see if another car is coming. Fortunately I made it around the turn with no accident. By the time I was through the turn I was sure that Big Red would have rolled had I stayed in my lane. I was almost on 2 wheels as it was.
We continued on to the military check point which was at the bottom of a long grade and I made sure all my shifting was right for if I blew it this time I would certainly run through the check point taking a few signs with me. No problem though, by the time I got to the check point I was able to shut the engine down and stop me right at the guard. He noticed the engine looping as I came to a stop. I said to him, no brakes! He looked at me with surprise and waved me on and made the statement, Loco Gringo!
We made it to Guerro Negro just at dark. We pulled into the Malaremo and had a good nights sleep. Next morning I took off the brake line to see what was wrong. It had a crack in it behind the nut where the flare seats on the slave cylinder. A factory defect that almost cost us dearly. So I took the line to the auto parts store where the guy cut off the bad piece and reflared it for me at no cost. I went back, put it on, bled the brake lines and we were off. I now carry my own flaring tool, just in case. Makes me wonder how lucky we were that the line didn’t give out going down the hill into El Rosario.
Just another trip with Big Red and it’s surprises. All in all, it was about 120 miles of no brakes!
I was hoping my hunch was wrong but the next time I stepped on the brakes I felt that lousy feeling again and my hunch was right, something was up with the brakes. I didn’t say anything to Roberta because I didn’t want her to worry. So I began driving a little slower and making sure that I didn’t have to reply on the brakes, I needed to save them for when I would really need them. As I was driving along, I was trying to figure out what the problem could be. The next time I needed to use the brakes the pedal went almost to the floor. I was completely out of brakes! I figured a good place to pull over with what little of the brakes was left would be Lake Chapala where the restaurant was. There were truckers there and a good long flat area in case the brakes failed completely. But before the next turn in the road I needed to use the brakes and they were gone. I gave a little statement of excitement and Roberta asked me what was wrong and I said nothing, just thought something was up with the engine, but not so. We got to Lake Chapala and pulled off to the side of the road with no brakes so I was down shifting until I was in 2nd gear, then I shut the engine off and let the engine stop us. I then told Roberta we were out of brakes and had been for the last 10 miles. I got out to see if I could tell what was wrong and it was easy to see. The back right rear wheel was covered in brake fluid. I had Roberta step on the brake and the fluid was leaking fast.
First we had to unhitch the Samurai. We had about 2 hours, maybe 2 ½ hours of daylight left so we decided to head for Guerro Negro and try to make it before dark. I would use the gears and go slow on the down hills. We had walkie talkies so we could communicate while driving. I wanted Roberta to drive the Samurai . This would take some of the weight off Big Red and so Roberta wouldn’t be in Big Red also for her safety. So we were off and everything went well. It was easy with the gears that I have, the new engines compression made the down shifting easy to control Big Red.
We were about 65 miles into driving and talking back and forth. We were climbing a gentle grade which at the end of its downhill side is a dangerous curve at the bottom of it. I was talking with Roberta on the walkie talkie and let my timing of shifting the gears go a little to long, for when I shifted into 3rd gear I realized I was going a little to fast to downshift into 2nd and I was already at the top and beginning to descend down the backside of the hill and steadily gaining speed instead of slowing down so I could shift into 2nd gear. If I shifted into 2nd gear now I would probably blow the engine. I got a real lousy feeling as I began gaining speed and approaching one of the more dangerous curves in Baja. Plenty of accidents happen on this curve. Now here I am going way too fast! As I start into the turn, Big Red is starting to lean so I instinctively start pumping the brakes but there are none! Now I need to make a decision fast. Do I go wide on this blind curve and hope there are no cars coming or do I stay in my lane and hope Big Red doesn’t roll. It feels as though its going to roll the way it’s already leaning and I’m only just beginning to take the turn so I decide to take it wide into the other lane, all the while stretching my neck as far as I can to see if another car is coming. Fortunately I made it around the turn with no accident. By the time I was through the turn I was sure that Big Red would have rolled had I stayed in my lane. I was almost on 2 wheels as it was.
We continued on to the military check point which was at the bottom of a long grade and I made sure all my shifting was right for if I blew it this time I would certainly run through the check point taking a few signs with me. No problem though, by the time I got to the check point I was able to shut the engine down and stop me right at the guard. He noticed the engine looping as I came to a stop. I said to him, no brakes! He looked at me with surprise and waved me on and made the statement, Loco Gringo!
We made it to Guerro Negro just at dark. We pulled into the Malaremo and had a good nights sleep. Next morning I took off the brake line to see what was wrong. It had a crack in it behind the nut where the flare seats on the slave cylinder. A factory defect that almost cost us dearly. So I took the line to the auto parts store where the guy cut off the bad piece and reflared it for me at no cost. I went back, put it on, bled the brake lines and we were off. I now carry my own flaring tool, just in case. Makes me wonder how lucky we were that the line didn’t give out going down the hill into El Rosario.
Just another trip with Big Red and it’s surprises. All in all, it was about 120 miles of no brakes!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Brake Line in Ensenada
It was on one of our longer trips and we were fully loaded in Big Red and pulling a 4 x 8 utility trailer fully loaded. I had just put on another gas tank making it three in order to help minimize carrying gas cans. I had installed it about 2-3 weeks prior to make sure everything would be working well for the upcoming trip. We had just change dour U.S dollars into pesos at the money changer in Ensenada. We pulled out just in time to make the light at the intersection before it turned red. I started to make a left turn onto the main road heading south. I put my foot on the brake pedal to slow down a little and the pedal went slowly to the floor. No brakes! We made the turn, fortunately no one was in front of us. Immediately I looked for a place to pull over. Luckily there was a nice big empty spot a couple of hundred feet up to the right. Big enough to get Big Red and the trailer over and out of traffic. It also had a curb that I could ease Big Red into and bring it to a stop.
I got under the Big Red to see what the problem was, The tank I had installed just prior to this trip had been rubbing against the flexible brake line and sliced it open. When I installed the tank Big Red was empty of supplies and riding higher. When I loaded it up with all the supplies which is almost 2,000 pounds it naturally rode lower and placed the brake line dangerously close to the edge of the seam on the gas tank. The up and down movement of the rear axle did the trick and acted like an edge of a knife and sliced the brake line.
I got my tools and took off the damaged piece of brake line and took off to look for a junkyard. Roberta and our dog stayed with Big Red. There were a few junkyards nearby but I had no luck in finding a part to match. There aren’t many, if any, 55’ Chevy Step Vans around like there use to be in the earlier days. Fortunately one of the yards owner was a real nice guy and had his nephew drive me to a parts store somewhere in Ensenada and I would never be able to find that place again if I had to. The ride to and from only took about 8 minutes each way. When we got to the parts store the guy behind the counter looked at my part and went in the back with it for about 20 minutes and came out with the exact part. He said they only had one so I was real lucky. The part cost me $15 which I thought was more than fair seeing as how my truck was so old. Anyway the drive to and from the parts store in this guys car was a classic journey in itself.
The stereo cassette player was hanging from the dashboard by wire and the windshield was in pieces so every time we would hit a bump the cassette player would chatter the music and pieces of the windshield would fall into my lap. I had to laugh to myself of how care free the guy was. He didn’t seem t mind and was as happy as could be. We made it back to Big Red and I thanked him for the ride and we shook hands and I gave him $20 and he went on his way. I got under Big Red and installed the new line and wrapped it up with tape and out of the way. Soon we were headed south once again. If we had made it into the hills there might have been a different ending.
I got under the Big Red to see what the problem was, The tank I had installed just prior to this trip had been rubbing against the flexible brake line and sliced it open. When I installed the tank Big Red was empty of supplies and riding higher. When I loaded it up with all the supplies which is almost 2,000 pounds it naturally rode lower and placed the brake line dangerously close to the edge of the seam on the gas tank. The up and down movement of the rear axle did the trick and acted like an edge of a knife and sliced the brake line.
I got my tools and took off the damaged piece of brake line and took off to look for a junkyard. Roberta and our dog stayed with Big Red. There were a few junkyards nearby but I had no luck in finding a part to match. There aren’t many, if any, 55’ Chevy Step Vans around like there use to be in the earlier days. Fortunately one of the yards owner was a real nice guy and had his nephew drive me to a parts store somewhere in Ensenada and I would never be able to find that place again if I had to. The ride to and from only took about 8 minutes each way. When we got to the parts store the guy behind the counter looked at my part and went in the back with it for about 20 minutes and came out with the exact part. He said they only had one so I was real lucky. The part cost me $15 which I thought was more than fair seeing as how my truck was so old. Anyway the drive to and from the parts store in this guys car was a classic journey in itself.
The stereo cassette player was hanging from the dashboard by wire and the windshield was in pieces so every time we would hit a bump the cassette player would chatter the music and pieces of the windshield would fall into my lap. I had to laugh to myself of how care free the guy was. He didn’t seem t mind and was as happy as could be. We made it back to Big Red and I thanked him for the ride and we shook hands and I gave him $20 and he went on his way. I got under Big Red and installed the new line and wrapped it up with tape and out of the way. Soon we were headed south once again. If we had made it into the hills there might have been a different ending.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Fuel Pump
Over the years I’ve learned when traveling anywhere and especially in Baja, it’s best to carry every possible part that may go wrong. Well this time we were on the dirt road and Big Red began acting a little strange, stuttering a little. It felt as though it wasn’t getting enough gas. We had just gone through a good sized mud puddle and about 100 yards past it Big Red stopped dead in it’s tracks. I cranked the engine a few times but no life. I thought maybe it might be the fuel pump so I had Roberta turn the ignition key while I checked the fuel pump to see if it was pumping gas. Sure enough no fuel was being pumped. So I got out my tools, got to my spare parts and pulled out a brand new fuel pump and went to work. I laughed a little while changing the fuel pump thinking how lucky I was that Big Red didn’t stop in the middle of that mud pond. That would have been a lot of fun. Within an hour I had the new fuel pump in and we were on our way again.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Friends in Baja
Over the years we have met some really great people and have been fortunate enough to make some wonderful and lasting friendships.
Glen and Flemming
Roberta and Boots
Glen and Boots
Hillary, Roberta and Phil
Hillary and Glen - "Pizza Night!"
Ralph, Glen and Roberta (life of the party!)
Kevin and Glen
Roberta and Mary
Lanny and Ralph
Ralph and Mary
Glen and Jody
Phil, Hillary and Debbie
Jody, Vince and Glen
Jody, Roberta, Glen and Jimmy
Vince and Debbie
At Glen's B-Day Party
Glen and Ed - Glen's B-day
Always fun at Glen's B-day parties!
Roberta, Barry and Glen
More party fun!
Kevin and Roberta
Kevin and Glen - Cool party hats!
Ed - Hey, who took my party hat?
Glen, Flemming, Jimmy and Mike
The Coyote, Boojum and Me
This was a time in Boojum’s life when he was struggling with a partially broken back and could barely walk much less try and run after coyotes. Boojum was a noble dog with a presence of grandness and calm.
This particular day Boojum was just basking in the sun and I was enjoying the sun also sitting beside Boojum and looking through a surf magazine. The surf was small and the day was still with just a slight breeze. Then I saw Boojum sit up with his attention directed to the southeast over the desert. I looked in the direction of his gaze and saw a coyote making his way towards us. Earlier that day I had taken some time to go diving to see about some halibut for dinner. I had just fed Boojum some of the halibut for his afternoon meal which was probably the reason the coyote was coming our way. He probably smelled Boojum’s meal which was still partially left in his bowl. So for the next few minutes Boojum and I watched as the coyote started getting closer and closer until he was within about 150 feet from our camp. By now Boojum was on full alert but not making a move. Then as the coyote came even closer I said to Boojum, “Hey Booj, what are you gonna do, that coyote is coming to get your food?” Right then Boojum got up and tried to chase after the coyote, one of the things he loved most to do, only when he got about 50 feet into his chase he collapsed from his back legs giving out and probably in pain.
This is the part that gets me. The coyote was about to run but when he saw Boojum fall he turned and started walking towards camp where I was sitting. Boojum saw this and struggled to his feet and came back to camp just as the coyote came into camp. I couldn’t believe that the coyote was being so unafraid and bold. As Boojum got to camp, partially dragging his back leg, he laid down. Now the coyote was about 20 feet from me and Boojum, he stopped, looked at Boojum and he laid down right there! Now the three of us sat in a triangle about the same distance from each other. It was quite a moment and it only lasted about a minute and a half but it was incredible. I looked straight into this wild animals eyes and said, “Mr. Coyote, what’s up? Do you feel bad about Boojum and are you giving him a little moment of sympathy? Cause you know if Booj was feeling good he’d give you a good chase”.
I got to sit there and just stare at the coyote and feel all his wisdom. I believe that he and Boojum must have had some fun times and good chases in the past for why else would the three of us just be hanging out together. It was a special moment and then the coyote casually got up and walked away.
This particular day Boojum was just basking in the sun and I was enjoying the sun also sitting beside Boojum and looking through a surf magazine. The surf was small and the day was still with just a slight breeze. Then I saw Boojum sit up with his attention directed to the southeast over the desert. I looked in the direction of his gaze and saw a coyote making his way towards us. Earlier that day I had taken some time to go diving to see about some halibut for dinner. I had just fed Boojum some of the halibut for his afternoon meal which was probably the reason the coyote was coming our way. He probably smelled Boojum’s meal which was still partially left in his bowl. So for the next few minutes Boojum and I watched as the coyote started getting closer and closer until he was within about 150 feet from our camp. By now Boojum was on full alert but not making a move. Then as the coyote came even closer I said to Boojum, “Hey Booj, what are you gonna do, that coyote is coming to get your food?” Right then Boojum got up and tried to chase after the coyote, one of the things he loved most to do, only when he got about 50 feet into his chase he collapsed from his back legs giving out and probably in pain.
This is the part that gets me. The coyote was about to run but when he saw Boojum fall he turned and started walking towards camp where I was sitting. Boojum saw this and struggled to his feet and came back to camp just as the coyote came into camp. I couldn’t believe that the coyote was being so unafraid and bold. As Boojum got to camp, partially dragging his back leg, he laid down. Now the coyote was about 20 feet from me and Boojum, he stopped, looked at Boojum and he laid down right there! Now the three of us sat in a triangle about the same distance from each other. It was quite a moment and it only lasted about a minute and a half but it was incredible. I looked straight into this wild animals eyes and said, “Mr. Coyote, what’s up? Do you feel bad about Boojum and are you giving him a little moment of sympathy? Cause you know if Booj was feeling good he’d give you a good chase”.
I got to sit there and just stare at the coyote and feel all his wisdom. I believe that he and Boojum must have had some fun times and good chases in the past for why else would the three of us just be hanging out together. It was a special moment and then the coyote casually got up and walked away.
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