We had met a group of older adventure riders last night who mentioned a nice place to eat in Catavinia. We questioned this because Catavina is a very small town near the middle of the Baja Penninsula, not a likely tourist center. They were going to eat breakfast there but it would be two hours ride there. Neither Dave nor I were that "adventurous". However, by the time we got there it was lunch time and we decided to try to find this place.
Finding places on our trip has often been challenging for many reasons. The language barrier is one, of course. But signs are often very small or non-existent. Addresses are easy to get wrong because all of the nuances we have in our own address system exist in Mexico, it is just harder to sort out. We have found GPS plus dead reckoning plus asking people usually gets us there.
In Catavina we just used our gut (we were hungry). A nicely groomed gravel road turned off Mex 1 to St. Inez only about 1/4 of a mile east. The signs said restaurant and hotel. Adventure was calling. At the end of the road we found the complex in this picture:
On the right were six hotel units, clean, comfortable but primitive. The shaded area on the left was the restaurant serving breakfast and lunch. In front was a single picnic table as seating. We were the only clients.
Greeting us from behind the counter was a smiling older woman offering her menu verbally though it was hand written on a bulletin board as well. Dave ordered quesadillas and I tacos dorado with carne. Proceeding the main items came two Tecates and a bowl of fire roasted tomatoes. Our food was very flavorful and without question as authentic as it gets.
If that was not authentic enough, I finished eating and circled off to the far L to look around. I found most of an extended family watching a large hog be butchered. It was an important event being shared by several generations of this large Mexican family and one gawking gringo.
Call me a romantic, I don't care. I left with a sense that I had witnessed happy people poor in money but sharing a simpler, fuller life together rich in family, community and heritage.
We travelled up the interior of the Penninsula on Mex 1 through Parque National deal Deserito Central. Broad expanses of very strange but beautiful cactus forests spread in all directions. As beautiful as they are, we found on one stop how treacherous they can be. Dave reached out to touch one and receive many painful barbs in his hand. I walked from the forest with a huge cactus spike stuck firmly in the toe of my riding boots. On close inspection, most of these plants are very well armored and protected with defensive and aversive measures.
Our destination in San Quintin was the Hotel Jardine highly recommended by the group of bikers we had met last night. We did not know that several of the roads in the area had been badly damaged by the recent storm that had hit the northern Pacific coast of Baja. We found this out the hard way.
After following directions as best we could, we found ourselves riding west on gravel and dirt amongst farm fields. Soon the road became a single lane because of storm damage. I was going to stop to ask directions at a small store but was put off by a snarling dog (not good for business). Knowing we had gone too far, we turned around and a man in a large new pickup told us to turn right on the road we had just passed. We did this and found it a gauntlet of ruts, mud and puddles. After riding this about 200 yards we decided to turn around. Dave succeeded; I did not laying my bike down because I did not give it gas as I turned into the embankment. When in doubt, GIVE IT GAS.
No harm done but we were on the right road and had to push on. More gauntlet of mud, sand, deep ruts including riding in the rows of one of the farm fields finally got us there. Once again after a lot of work not only did we succeed to find the hotel but it was a gem amongst the farm fields with a very nice restaurant.
I am very grateful for the good luck we have had and the great people who have helped us have this Most Excellent adventure.
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