Backtracking

While there are things to update everyone on, I personally don’t find it much of a story. I’m back in the US though, so a chapter has ended. Five months in Baja was, well, many things. I had no expectation, so there is nothing to compare it to; I simply existed, and now I continue to exist here.

I can say it was many things though, and that San Felipe and the surrounding areas offer a lot. It doesn’t seem to be a place I’d settle down permanently, but the reasons are pretty straightforward. First, I have gotten my fill of desert. While I see the beauty of desert regions and do enjoy them, my interest wanes rather quickly. A few days and I’m reminded of its stillness, its extremes, and the abundance of life that has adapted to live there (mostly plant and insect life, but those are both forms of life).

 

 

San Felipe has plenty of beach, but I only avail myself of beaches on occasion. I also don’t particularly like riding a motorcycle on sand, which of course is everywhere and not just on the beach. The town doesn’t exist entirely off tourists though, so it has a soul of its own, though it does have plenty of tourist spots and a large ex-pat community living in beach houses all around it, so there’s tourist things to do.

My winter down there started in December, house-sitting for my friends for a few days. Sadly, one of their cats disappeared, likely snatched by a bird of prey. I searched for hours and found no coyote tracks, tufts of fur, or other signs of a fight. It was a shock. but even more of a surprise was how I somehow was blamed for it, instantly becoming persona non grata.

Having lost three cats already I understood how sad it was for them, but that also means the score is them losing three and me losing one; I don’t really see how I’m the asshole in that situation. Nevertheless, that meant making new friends, which I did over time, mainly by hanging out at the restaurant near the casita I was renting.

 

In Other News

I got to watch several off-road races that came through, and it really showed me how the place transforms when the races come to town. It’s packed. Tons of locals come out as well as Mexicans from other cities, and of course the racers and their crew and families. It’s wild times for 4-5 days and then things go back to being a sleepy fishing village.

I also did some exploring but not nearly as much as I had planned. I didn’t really scratch anything off my list: I just rode around locally and looked at the natural features. That’s not the same as exploring old mining or mission ruins, heading to other beach towns, going into the larger city of Ensenada, hitting up the higher mountains (only accessible from the western side, so a very long trip even though they are close), or going into Baja Sur to see the landscape become more tropical.

 

I did manage to see SpaceX launch two different capsules, which streaked across the night sky high enough to have its contrail lit by the sun, which was already below the horizon down here on Earth. Truly a mesmerizing view.

 

But I explored the many taco shops of the area, improved my Spanish, met new people, and generally lived the life of a retired person, until the doldrums set in. They are tough for me to work through when they sprout up in my life like weeds.

I’m just not at that stage yet where I want to settle in and watch the wind blow through the trees (not that there are many trees in San Felipe). I’m also at a phase in life where taking the bull by the horns is something I’m already well versed in, so it doesn’t really get me revved up to just pursue things for the sake of pursuit.

 

 

Essentially I’m too experienced to get excited about things, yet I don’t have enough experience to sit back and chat with others about all the things I’ve done. I have to still get out there and do some living, but nothing really excites me. It’s perhaps what a mid-life crisis would be like for someone who has never raised a family but is instead riding a motorcycle around North America, wondering how to rekindle the excitement of racing motorcycles in hill climb races, or driving in a convoy through Iraq.

Hell if I know man, I just work here…

So What About The Next Thing?

But I digress. Or maybe not. This isn’t really a “what I did on my winter vacation” essay. This is a “here is what I am doing, but first here’s the story so far,” type of deal. And so, what I did so far was spend five months in Mexico taste-testing tacos, roaming aimlessly, and feeling the opposing feelings of nervous angst and malaise at the same time. It was a bit taxing mentally at times — just being in my own head so much can really put a lot of pressure on me.

 

 

Given enough time my brain will try to deconstruct reality until a million thoughts are swirling around and I want to jump out of a tall building. But the solution that presents itself is getting on a motorcycle and roaming around, looking at stuff. Then my brain can think about the world immediately around me and not try to solve the nature of the universe and why it exists.

And that’s the plan: motorcycle Canada. Why Canada. you might ask? There is no answer. “Because Canada, that’s why.” Is that sufficient? Either way, I’m back in Arizona currently, swapping things out. This summer I will switch bikes and take the Indian again, pulling the trailer, though with far less stuff (this thing just doesn’t need all the tools and spares I’m used to carrying with older bikes).

In late-May I will participate in the 10-year anniversary celebration for the Veterans Charity Ride (VCR). That is something I’m looking forward to, because I’ve volunteered  for VCR six times, so I’ll likely know all or nearly-all the people coming. VCR will still do their motorcycle therapy mission in June, but this reunion is an invite to all previous participants to come out an re-kindle, catch up and, well, reunite: I reckon that’s what a reunion is.

 

 

You Said Something About Canada?

After that I’ll beat feet, interstate-style, eastward. I want as much time as I can for exploring Canada so I’ll have to forego meeting up with several friends along the way, but there will be other times for that. I’ll swing in and visit family in Kentucky, then work over to the Blue Ridge Mountains.

I can never pass up a chance to see that area, explore the Parkway, do some camping and hiking, and deeply inhale the spirit of that land. I’ll work my way north, avoiding the coastline which is full of people. Harumph. Once near Maine I’ll be able to start hugging coastline, exploring more slowly before crossing into New Brunswick.

There is a lot of coastline in eastern Canada due to the stretched out geography and many peninsulas and bays. New Brunswick down to Nova Scotia (practically an island), then across to Newfoundland (actually an island). That’s when I expect things will really slow down, as there is only 2-lane road, much rugged coastline, many small villages, and a lot of dead space in between.

 

 

After seeing what I can see there I’ll head to Prince Edward Island, which has some cool history that needs looked at properly. After PEI, things evanesce. I’ll work my way west, probably seeing big cities like Montreal and Quebec City, as well as some of the smaller towns to the west of them. I will eventually drop into the US via Michigan’s U.P., the Upper Peninsula. Many good things have been said about it, so I’ll see for myself.

By then, who knows? There will be other things to see, many things to plan, and I may need to work my way west to Vancouver for a very historic moment in aviation history. I’ll have stories to tell either way.

But for now that’s all I really have. Mexico was great but I had my fill. Maybe I’ll winter there again? Maybe I won’t? I can’t plan that far ahead, and I carve nothing in stone anymore. Each day is a question mark. Sometimes we can turn that into an exclamation point, other days we just make it a comma. One day it will be a period: full stop. Until then I just keep looking at the blank pages and try to fill them with something useful, because every time I let the malaise take hold, the pages keep turning, even though they are blank.