At The Crack of New Year

At that exact moment when, Baja time, the clock struck midnight and all those dials rolled up new to 01, 01, and 010, we were dead in the sand. We and the RV were dead stuck. Way to start it off right!

Pre-stuck: our camping spot overlooking Mar de Cortez.

But we had a great final day of the decade, right up to that moment. It was our first full day in Mexico since crossing the border south of Yuma the day prior and we'd spent it frolicking in the sand, the water, the sun. We rolled back to San Felipe town from our camp spot and found the malecon (the boardwalk) where the tourists hang out, and the requisite strip of great restaurants and shirt shops. We found one with a table in the sun (a restaurant, not a shirt shop) and had one of the best meals of our entire trip. As would become the norm, Kian drew a crowd of Mexican ladies and young girls who stroked his hair and pinched his checks. And that was before we had him dancing in the streets and saying "hola".

For dinner we bought a kilo of fresh prawns and a bottle of decent tequila, and we did both gringo-mexican style: tacos gambas and margaritas. There were very few other gringos around. We chatted with a cool group of Norcal-ifornians but most of our interactions were with locals who were out on the strip celebrating the new year too. An impromptu band struck up on one of the corners and as the evening wore on, a constant stream of cars started to build which seemed an awful lot like cruising. Hell, it was cruising, another one of the great things that hasn't been squashed yet by the authorities in the land down under. Mexican polka boomed out of every car, people smiled and waved. The moon was capital E-normous, so we hopped down into the sand and played on the beach as well as walked the boardwalk until we finally decided to call it a night a mere 60-minutes from midnight. Annie and Kian were sacked, and I was fading. I drove it back to our beachfront parking spot from the night before, just out of town near the marina, and since my spot was taken I drove a little further down. I drove down, further, just a little too far... and buried the Tortuga up to her axles. Annie and Kian done in the back, so no worries, I'd finish the year off without worries and defer the issue to next year. I turned off the polka, pulled out the keys and crawled into the back and went to sleep. Just as I was dozing off I heard some blasts in the distance, and peaking out one of the windows I could see bits of fireworks going off just above the sand dune that we were stuck behind. Yep, happy New Year.

Not exactly the best way to wake up on a New Years morning, but its better than a hangover for sure. Annie and Kian hit the beach while I recruited help to get us out. No more than two hours later we were back in San Felipe stocking up for our assault into uncharted territory and a date with the capital-G-narliest road in the free world. Of this though, we were yet unawares.

Kiki streakin: he loved the beach, what white kid don't.

El Malecon de San Felipe.

That's Annie landing a big one. Don't throw it back!

Comida.

Kian was stoked for New Years.

The Big Blue Moon.

A stop at the beach and hotsprings in Puertocitas. Check this out!

We had to wait for the tide to go out because these
thermals were in the tidal pools. So sweet and at sunset!

New Years Day night we were camped miles from anywhere: once the pavement ended we drove with cigars, beers between our legs, and turned off the headlights to navigate by the stars and the light of moon (okay, only I smoked cigars, but
Kian kept a beer between his legs to stay cool).