Anytime you decide to drive a car to Baja California,
you take a risk. Most people are familiar with the legendary off-road surfaces
in Baja, many of which are unsuitable for passenger cars, and some unsuitable
for any vehicle. Then, of course, there is Highway 1, the paved,
main route which extends from Tijuana all the way to Cabo San Lucas. Most
of the drive is very good, but ultimately you will find stretches of the
road where potholes abound, some rather deep. Needless to say, careful
driving is key to having not only a pleasant trip in Baja, but a safe journey
home as well.
This goes double, even triple for night driving.
Personally, I do not recommend anyone to drive at night in Baja. I don't
care what road you are on, or what city you are in. It is by far the most
dangerous time to be behind the wheel.
Believe it or not, Highway 1 can be the most
dangerous road in Baja at night. Many cows, horses, and goats live wild
in Baja, mainly grazing near Highway 1's roadside. At night, they tend
to clamor on the warm asphalt surface. Because there are no lights on Highway
1, and because of the highway's many twists and turns, it may be too late
before the random cow or horse comes into a driver's view.
Of course, my friends and I are far from perfect,
and we have driven at night many times. And not just out of necessity,
either. However, we do slow our speed drastically, and are extra cautious.
I am happy to say, we have never had a major incident in our 11 years of
touring Baja (knock on wood). We have had a few small problems, which could
have turned disastrous for us. Through it all, though, we have persevered,
using logic, skill, and the biggest help of all - sheer luck.
There was the time in Rob's Jeep, hitting the
rock on a beach south of Nacho's Camp (see A
Rock and a Hard Place). This incident caused busted shock absorbers
(two of them), a punctured radiator hose (from the fan belt), and many
loose bolts. However, if you read the story, you know that everything turned
out OK.
There was the key crisis (see A
"Key" Dilemma). Losing my car key in the ocean at Playa de Costilla,
with the tide coming in and the sun setting. Again, we eventually made
it out relatively unscathed.
These were just two of the times when car troubles
have struck us. Here are some more:
One instance happened somewhere along the road
south of Puertecitos, in November 1993. Rob Stark, Robert Eastman, and
I were driving from a spot a bit north of Nacho's Camp, to San Felipe,
in my Acura Integra. We reached Puertecitos, and had remarked at how terrible
the road was south of Puertecitos. It was by far, the worst condition I
had ever seen for this road (I never saw the "old" route, infamous as the
worst road in Baja).
Once out of Puertecitos, and on to the paved
road, we drove for some 15 minutes, before deciding to pull over for a
minute. While stopped, Robert got out and checked under the car (don't
ask me why he did this, but I sure am glad he did). Something was leaking
from under my car. We placed a white napkin under the leak, and discovered
the terrible truth - it was oil.
Upon closer inspection, we found that the oil
pan under my car had been slightly punctured. We all assumed that we had
hit a rock somewhere south of Puertecitos, and didn't feel it at the time.
The oil was spilling out rather slowly, but, it was leaking just the same.
I measured the dip stick - we were still near full. If we drove quickly,
we could be in San Felipe in 45 minutes max. Since I didn't have any extra
oil with me, we would have to get some there.
After 30 minutes or so, we stopped and measured
the oil again. Now, we were all the way down to 1/4 of the stick. It seemed
the oil was coming out faster than we thought. Panicking, we made it to
San Felipe, and immediately stopped at an auto parts store to buy oil,
and ask about the availability of a mechanic. The cashier told us of a
mechanic just up one of the streets.
We left the store, and measured the oil again.
No oil registered on the stick. We put in one quart, and drove to the "mechanic".
It was actually someone's house, and apparently the gentleman was not in
the mood to fuss with our car. He directed us to another place, near the
Pemex station as you enter the town from the north.
We eventually made it to this mechanic's place,
which seemed more like a shop. It was outdoors, with his house in the back,
but he had a lot of tools, and he was very happy to help us.
With two of his friends, they went to work. First,
they removed all the excess oil from the pan (not much). Then, with a blowtorch
working like a soldering iron, the men "welded" the hole shut. Within 45
minutes, the job was done. We refilled the oil, and no leaks. Our cost
for this beautiful job - $15, and one more potentially disastrous problem
averted.
Once I got home, I told my father of the incident,
and he was naturally upset. He wanted me to take the car to a "real" mechanic,
but once he saw the work done, he was speechless. I still have the car,
and I still have the original fixed oil pan. I have had absolutely no problems
with it since.
Another incident occurred, while on the same road
south of Puertecitos, though this time in Rob's Honda Accord, in October
1992. This problem happened at night, and probably could have been avoided
had it been light outside.
Rob, Robert and I were driving along, rather
slowly, heading towards our campsite for the night. We were deep in conversation,
when we heard a loud thump. Then, Rob's car began to make the loudest noises
you could imagine for this vehicle. I asked him, "What was that?". His
reply - "Oh, it sounds like the muffler broke".
If Rob seemed rather unconcerned, it is only
because he was. We got to our campsite, ate, drank, and slept, and only
in the morning did we survey the damage. We had apparently hit a rather
large rock on the road. The pipe leading from the muffler to the engine
had been almost completely sheered off. The muffler had actually been dragging
on the ground during the rest of our drive the night before. Also, the
car's frame had been bent up almost an inch, making it appear that the
hood of the car was not shut properly. See
pictures
We got back on the road, and stopped immediately.
Not wanting Rob to lose this section of pipe (I'm sure that one more good
jolt from a rock would probably have done it), we began to think about
what our options were. The 3 of us decided to look around for something
to use, to tie the muffler to the underside of the car. After searching
the road (we were totally unprepared to tie anything), we found a wire
hanger. Perfect.
Rob lost the game of "rock, scissors, paper",
so he had to go under the car and tie the muffler back on. It took some
time, but he did it.
We got close to Puertecitos, when the muffler
came undone from the hanger. This time, Robert got under and re-fixed it.
We continued on, this time reaching the road to La Fortuna, where we decided
to tempt fate, and drive to see the mining facility that was supposedly
there. After about 10 minutes on this rough route, the hanger came undone
again. And again, it was Rob who did the honors of re-tying.
We headed out of La Fortuna, and made it all
the way to the little town of San Miguel on the Rio Hardy, before the muffler
came undone once more. This time, it was my turn to get out and fix it.
Since the rest of the route was paved, we figured
we wouldn't have anymore trouble, and we didn't. Rob got the muffler fixed
at home, and again, another dilemma solved.
One more instance of fate being on our side, occurred
in July of 1989. We were heading out of La Paz, towards Highway 1, driving
Rob's Honda again. All of a sudden, Rob exclaimed, "Guys, we're overheating!"
Indeed, the temperature gauge was very close
to "H", and steadily rising. We pulled over, and saw the first bits of
steam rise from the hood. After careful inspection, we discovered the source
of the problem - there was a small hole in the front of the radiator.
We had spent almost the entire day before near
Tecolote beach. At one point, we tried to traverse a rather steep hill
to see if we could lookout and find Playa Coyote. See
picture We believe that it was on this hill, where a pebble had skipped
up and punctured the radiator.
What to do, what to do. We finally found a mechanic
shop, after asking many people. The shop was actually located in the middle
of a neighborhood, just in front of someone's house. Four boys, none seemingly
older than 17, came out of the house in the back, and began to survey the
damage.
Now, I don't know if they had ever worked on
a foreign car before, but we noticed that they had no metric tools. Regardless,
it took almost no time before they had parts of Rob's car all over the
ground. They had to tear the front of the car apart, just to get to the
radiator. I think they took it as a challenge, more than anything else.
Of course, Rob was simply terrified. One of my most vivid memories, is
of Robert and me deciding to get something to eat, and asking Rob if he
wanted anything. He shook us away in disgust, and put his head in his hands.
Robert and I thought it was funny.
After about 2 hours, the radiator was off, the
puncture was welded, and the car put back together, remarkably, with no
spare parts left on the ground. I don't recall exactly, but I believe our
cost for this was only around $8-10. We ended up making it to Loreto that
night, and spent 2 more days on our trip, with absolutely no ill effects.
Again, another brush with disaster, which turned out just fine.
There have been other times - driving to San Vicente
in my Oldsmobile, in winter, with no heat; having my Oldsmobile breakdown
on the way home from Ensenada (luckily, in the United States); accidentally
driving the front passenger-side tire of Robert's Taurus into a cactus.
Even the taxicab we road in, got a flat tire on the way back to La Paz
from Tecolote! And, of course, there's the fuel shortages (see Some
Thoughts on Fuel). Few of these situations have had truly major
effects on any of us, or any of our trips.
I must say that on most of our trips, everything
goes just fine. But as you can see, even when things do go wrong, they
have a way of working out in the end. Call it luck, call it fate, but whatever
it is, we're just happy it's on our side! |
