Boojum Picks His Headstone

Boojum

When my dog Boojum was about 8 years old he and I were walking on the edge of one of our favorite hills to walk. It’s a beautiful place which has an unobstructed view of the whole area that we like to surf and camp. It’s a very peaceful place. If you look to the east you see nothing but mountains and hills dotted with different types of cactus. The rock formations are beautiful. Then turn and look directly behind in the opposite direction to the west and all you see is the shoreline and the expanse of the beautiful Pacific Ocean.

On this day Boojum and I were walking side by side on the ridge. I stopped and I said to Boojum, “Booj someday your gonna pass away and your gonna need to have a place to be buried out here where I know you love to be, where you can always be free.” And while he was standing there looking directly at me with his brown eyes as if he knew what I was saying to him, I said “Booj what do you think about up here on the ridge? Would you like to be up here somewhere?” After I said that, he turns and walks about 25 feet away and starts sniffing this big boulder. Then he lifts his leg and pisses all over it. I watched him and I laughed and said; “OK pal, that’s where you will be.” And that is where he is now buried. Roberta and I can see his headstone when we drive in and when we leave and we always say hi and see ya Booj.

Glen, Apollo and Roberta, At Boojums

Photo By:  Boots McGhee

 

What The x?!# Is That?

Rocky hanging out in a cool tidepool

Back in 1974, Bill Minard, my girlfriend Linda at the time, my dog, a lab named Rocky and myself were lazing in a nice waist deep tide pool in Abreojos. It was a really hot day, where all you wanted to do was just lay by someplace cool. So that’s what we were doing. While we were enjoying it and watching my dog Rocky, who was black and really loving the cool water, pawing his way around the tide pool he suddenly jumped back which jolted all of us with some excitement as to what the X?!# was that? Then as we jumped out of the water we settled down and took a good look as to what made him jump.

Down by his paws there was a big purple and blue crab with some very intimidating set of pinture claws. Then the crab started moving into shallower water and Rocky and him had a face off! Rocky was barking and the crab stood there with claws ready to draw blood. We let the face off go on for a few minutes then I pulled Rocky back and gave the crab a chance to escape to the safety of the rocks.

Rocky checking out the crab

We then realized we were surrounded by tentacles coming out from all the holes and deep cracks in the submerged rocks. At the other end of those tentacles or feelers were lobsters! To our surprise we had been sitting in this tide pool surrounded by dozens of lobsters!

So Bill and I began laughing and started pulling out lobsters by the hand full! There must have been 20 to 30 nice sized lobsters so we picked about 6 and took them to camp and boiled then up and had a grand feast. How much easier could it get? That only happened the one time and never again.

The Ice Cream Cometh

Roberta relaxing after a fun surf session

Picture being camped at Scorpion Bay in the days before the houses appeared out at the vacant points of 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th and beyond. It’s hot, the waves have been fun and it is in the middle of the day in July. We had just gotten out of the water and Roberta and I were baking in the sun. We got to talking about food and something cool to drink, then the conversation continued into desserts. We fantasized with the possibility of how some cold ice cream would taste. Then we started joking about how cool it would be if an ice cream truck would come by and the reality of it was next to finding a gold bar while driving a tent stake into this hard ground.

Now this is the honest truth and one of those things that never happened again in all the years of camping there. About 20 minutes later we heard what sounded like the funky melody music of an ice cream truck! Both Roberta and myself sat up and looked towards the sound and holy crap here comes an ice cream truck, ding-a-linging down a cactus road towards our campsite. We both looked at each other and started busting up laughing. I said, “Who rubbed the magic vase?!” When the truck got close we flagged him to stop and bought some nice cold ice cream, then he was on his merry ding-a-ling way.

We sort of expected him to disappear like a dream into a cloud or something or maybe a cactus but he just kept driving away until he was over the rise and the melody just faded away. And there we were left standing on that hot sunny day on a desert point, with 2 cold ice creams in our hands smiling.

Ice cream truck from out of nowhere!

Burned Bearings

Glen stuck in the middle of Baja

Dec. 2010

I left my camp early afternoon so I could stay out in the desert that afternoon and evening the day before I would normally leave. This way I could enjoy the quiet of the desert night and get a nice early start to make the next day of driving relaxing and enjoying, just taking my time. While leaving my campsite about 20 minutes into my drive I heard an unusual noise but then it went away. About 10 minutes later I heard it again, a slight moaning sound. I stopped to check Big Red out but couldn’t find anything but I was a little suspicious.

The next morning I took off nice and early and Big Red was running just fine until around Santa Catarina then I heard a sound, like a light metal whistling. I really started thinking that something might be wrong with my brakes? Bearings? Or hopefully not my transmission! Just down the road on a curve, there was a wreck and I slowed down and then I heard this ugly groaning with a grinding, then it went away but it turned my stomach for I knew it wasn’t good. So I slowed down and drove in a different gear which seemed to help but I was quite concerned now. Up ahead was a downhill section that when I started down, Big Red made this horrible grinding, groaning, scraping sound and I slowed down and put it in 1^st gear and tried to find a place to pull over with a semi on my tail! I had my emergency flashers going so he knew I was in trouble. I finally found a spot and the sound was real bad now and I could feel it through Big Red.

I thought maybe the transmission was out of oil so I checked and it was fine. I backed up a few times and went forward to see if I could make the sound go away. No such luck! So I put it in 1^st gear and took off slowly downhill. Fortunately there were no semis coming down and Big Red didn’t make any noises going down for another 20 miles. Then about 30-40 miles from El Rosario I pulled over and this time I knew there would be no more moving Big Red. The sound was enough to make you want to throw up. My stomach just did a few flips when I heard it for the last time.

I got the jack out and jacked Big Red up to see what was up and sure enough I could barely turn the wheel and from the creek and crack and scraping I knew that it was the bearings. When I took the wheel off the parts came falling out and it made my stomach turn. I was done now and stuck in the middle of the hills.

While I was working on it, to my fortune, a friend named Tobin pulls up behind me. First thing he said was did I have a problem. I told him yes and he wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help. Until then I had no idea how I was going to get parts. So we sat down and worked out a plan.

One of the problems was the inner bearings race had gotten so hot that it had seized onto the axle and somehow it would have to either be cut-off or heated off by a welder.  I had to dismantle the right side and take the brake plate off and remove the axle so that Tobin could take the parts into El Rosario and hopefully find someone to remove the seized part from the axle and hope that the auto parts place would have the parts to get back on the road once again. The one set of outside bearings still had the numbers on them so they could hopefully match them at the parts store. So Tobin took off in search of my parts. The one thing we didn’t have was plenty of time. There was about 6 hours of daylight left. It was between 2 storms, the one that just past that morning and the next one would probably hit early the next day. I just had to wait, not knowing how long Tobin might be gone. I thought there was a possibility that he might not be back until the next day? I realized then that we could have had him send a message back with someone coming this way or if he ran out of time maybe he could send the parts back with someone to drop them off. I didn’t need a mechanic to come out, I just needed the parts and I wasn’t about to leave Big Red unguarded. I would stay until something positive happened.

 

The funny thing about this is I had told myself before I left home on this trip that when I get back I was going to take off all the brakes and bearings and replace the brakes and check my bearings. So here I was sitting on the side of the road wishing I had done it before I had left. The most ironic thing about this whole ordeal is at my shop in San Diego, I had saved an old set of wheel bearings from my 1963 Dodge Power Wagon. They had been sitting on a shelf for the past 30 years. Right before this trip I had picked them up and wondered if by chance if they could possibly fit Big Red. I carry all spare parts for Big Red but thought to myself, why should I carry something I’m not sure if they even fit. The crazy thing is that I hadn’t touched those bearings in 15 years and then it was just to move them.

So back to my situation on the side of the road. I had been hanging out now for close to 6 hours, looking at the corner of the road which comes from the north, the direction Tobin had left with my parts. Every time a vehicle was coming I looked up to see if it might be him. I was getting concerned, it was about 50 minutes from being dark. Then I heard a vehicle. I looked up and there was Tobin coming around the corner. He pulls up behind me and I raise my arms in victory but when Tobin gets out he looks bummed. He says to me; “Hey Glen, sorry but we couldn’t find the parts.” Then he smiles and says, “just kidding man!” Wowa!  I was a little bummed at first but now we had the parts and I went to work fast. Tobin said he went to the parts place in El Rosario and they didn’t have the parts so they called up to San Quintin and they had 3 of the 4 parts I needed. So he drove to San Quintin and back to help me out.

One thing here I want to make sure is brought to light is that this was way beyond a normal favor. For one thing Tobin was on his way home to Northern California and then had to drive to Canada for a wedding. He could have left me there and said that he didn’t have the time to help me out, or he could have just waved and honked when he saw me and not even have stopped to see if I needed help. Not Tobin. No Tobin is made of the kind of stuff you don’t find much in people anymore. He truly is a man of true friendship, the kind of friend that nothing stands in his way to help someone, even if it means driving 6 hours and a 100 miles out of his way, and that is exactly what he did for me. Plus he would not leave me there. He stayed and made sure Big Red was rolling once again and safely.


Tobin

It took me about 45 minutes to put Big Red back together again and get it rolling. We had just gotten out from my roadside hell as it was getting dark. I told him that it was fine and to go ahead but he insisted on driving behind me to make sure everything was ok.  We drove for another 3 hours until just past San Quintin where we both pulled into a camping area and spent the night.

The next day it started to rain and it continued for 3 days. Had Tobin not stopped to see if I was ok, I might have been there on the side of the road for a week. When we got to the camp area I paid Tobin for the parts, his gas and a little extra for his generous help. I also said to him that I was going to make him a new surfboard for saving my tail.

Thanks again Tobin!

Tobin and his dog Sadie

Why Does He Keep Driving It?

Big Red camped in Baja



As you read these stories about all the mishaps that have happened with El Toro, you are probably wondering to yourself, why does he keep that thing that is always giving him problems?  Well I know it may sound a little strange but I like having the challenges that it gives me. True some are dangerous and I/we were lucky to make it safely through some, but the rest are either just plain wild and fun and most of all they test my ability to get out of a jam. Simply put, they make me feel alive, in touch, self reliant and test my ability to keep improvising.

The other reason is Big Red is one of a kind. There is no other rig like it. The Mexicans love it. It is the Big Red Bull, “El Toro Rojo Grande”. It represents their bullfighting heritage and brings smiles and laughter wherever we travel. From the police, to the military, to the road workers, to people in towns and villages, people wave and smile as we pass by. People drive by or stop and take pictures of the Bull. Or as we pass by we will see people waving and yelling; “Toro, Toro, Toro!” It’s a good feeling knowing that Big Red brings happiness to people and we feel accepted wherever we are.

Here is an interesting little coincidence. My last name is Horn, I’m a Taurus, my sign is The Bull, which in the night skies of Baja is directly above our camp every night . It is five stars that form a V, a set of celestial horns. I drive a rig which has a large set of Texas Longhorn Horns. It’s name is “El Toro Rojo Grande”, The Big Red Bull.  Everything has to do with the Bull and Horns.

So as you read these stories, we hope you get some enjoyment and feeling of adventure. Thanks for traveling with us.

Nephew’s First Baja Trip And A Run-Away Alernator

Glen and his newphew Mark

One time in March I was taking my nephew, Mark, down to Baja for his very first Baja adventure with high hopes of great surf and fishing. The day before the trip I replaced the fan belt. We were just outside of El Socorro on the south side, just before heading into the hills to El Rosario when all of a sudden a loud crash-bang came from the front of the engine. My nephew saw something fly from under Big Red and over the side of the road into the bushes. My nephew said to me that it looked like an alternator to him. I immediately shut the engine off and to my luck there was a place to pull off the side of the road. I jumped out and looked underneath Big Red where the alternator was supposed to be and sure enough it was gone, so I asked my nephew to show me where he saw it go. We walked back about 75 yards and found it easily enough.

At the time this all took place it was about 4 hours before dark and it looked as though it could rain, so I needed to get to work fast. In all, it took about 3 hours and a lot of brain storming. I had to take off the grill, empty the radiator fluid into a bucket so I could reuse it, take out the radiator so I could get to the problem area where the bolt that held the alternator had sheered off at the engine block. Fortunately I had just loosened that bolt the day before to put on the new fan belt because it allowed me to take a screwdriver and back out the piece of bolt that was in the engine block. The other part of the bolt with the head on it was still with the alternator. I got real lucky here because there were still about 5 threads on the bolt still showing. The problem here was it also was broken at the same thickness of the alternator.

The first thing I did was look in my supply of nuts and bolts to see if I had any that would replace it and I didn’t. So the next thing I did was look at the frame and engine to see if I could rob one from somewhere else on Big Red, no such luck. The only idea I could come up with was I needed to cut some of the  alternator away where the bolt went through and threaded into the engine block. I needed to get those 5 threads of bolt to hold the alternator in place. So I took out my hacksaw and cut about a half of an inch off the ear of the alternator. The fan belt would no longer line up but it should work for another 600-700 miles. I wanted to make sure my nephew could still have his first Baja adventure and it was already turning into something neither of us had in mind.

After installing the alternator and belt I needed a way to keep the fan belt tight. I didn’t want to put too much pressure on those 5 delicate threads so I cut a wedge out of a piece of wood and put it between the engine and the alternator to tighten the fan belt and it worked beautifully. So long as it lasted the rest of the trip down and back I could fix it when I got home. My other concern was it was starting to look more and more like rain so I needed to get Big Red back together and get to someplace good to pull over for the night before it got dark. Where we were stuck at was not a good place at night. It was known for robberies. I didn’t tell my nephew that! I got Big Red back together just as it started to drizzle and we started it up and pulled onto the main road and we were off again.

Finding Big Red

Big Red somewhere in Baja

I’ve been traveling in Baja since the mid 60’s. Throughout those years having various vehicles and in search of what I thought would be the perfect rig. One day in the mid 80’s, I was walking down Mission Blvd, just a short distance from my surf shop. Just then I heard the sound of a healthy engine passing by. I looked and saw the perfect rig going down the road. My imagination began to go wild with the idea of owning that rig and what I could do to it and where I could go with it.  Anywhere in Baja is where it should be roaming. Little did I know that someday I would own that very same vehicle.

Two months later I had heard that the person that owned the rig was someone I knew and they were wanting to sell it. A month later I heard it was still for sale and he couldn’t get it to start. I decided to track the guy down and make him an offer. I finally caught up with the guy and he told me that he wanted to sell it soon so he could go to Hawaii. So I made him an offer of $1,000. He said ok and we made a deal. I towed it home and went through it and got it to start and made sure there was nothing seriously wrong with it. A month later I went to the DMV and registered it. The very next day another guy I knew came by my house and told me it was his vehicle and that the other guy had stolen it from him. I told him that the other guy had the pink slip and signed it over to me and the DMV was fine with everything and gave me the tags and registration. I told him he should see what the DMV has to say, but as far as I was concerned it was mine now.  Never heard anything else about it.