| My first trip ever to Baja took place in July
of 1986. Three friends and I went to Tijuana for the day. My first real
trip, was 5 months later, when I went with four more friends to Ensenada
for the weekend. As a 19 year old, with similar age friends, being in a
true young persons town like Ensenada was all I could ask for. It was,
up to that time in my life, my favorite trip.
During the ensuing months, leading through 1987 into 1988, I made 8 separate trips to this "City on the Bay". During that time, I went with 7 different people, slept in 4 different places, and drove 3 different cars. However, no trip will quite compare with my eighth trip, from April 27-29, 1988. It was about 1:00am on Wednesday morning, April 27, 1988. My friend, Rob Stark, and I, were finishing our Taco Bell "dinner", in my 1973 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, parked on Sandpiper Drive near LAX. We were discussing our favorite topic at the time - various trips to Ensenada we had taken. We both worked at the same supermarket, and it was extremely difficult for us to get weekends off so we could go to our favorite city together. However, the two times we had been able to go over the last year, were terrific trips. While we dreamed of having real jobs, so we could get weekends off all the time, a very important fact was revealed - both Rob and I had Wednesday & Thursday off, and I didn't have to work until 5:00pm on Friday. Opportunity knocked, and we opened the door. After making pit stops at our respective residences to pack, (as well as for me to call my girlfriend and future wife, Martha), we decided to head for the border right then. We didn't leave Los Angeles until 2:00am. My car overheated 10 minutes after we left (it turned out that we had left the radiator cap off at the gas station, where we were careful to check all fluids. The radiator cap was still lying on the battery). After this minor adjustment, we headed on, stopping only for gas in San Diego, where Rob burned his tongue on some AM/PM coffee (he still reminds me of this fact to this day) Once across the border, we made one more stop at 5:00am. The sky was getting lighter as the sun began to rise, but the hills on the east-side of the toll road blocked it very well. Rob, a great photographer, took some pictures of the gray ocean and gray sky, from the cliffs above. In some places, it was nearly impossible to see the horizon line. It was truly an incredible site. We spent the night in my car in San Miguel, a surf campground about 10 minutes north of Ensenada. This saved us considerable expense. We awoke at 9:30am, ate some leftover Winchell's donuts from the night before, and headed into town. Various romps around led us nowhere. Frankly, the city is dead during the week. Even our nightly visit to "Papa's & Beer" left us with only two options - playing Fooz-ball against the bartenders, or the video game version of Ivan Stewart's off-road truck race. As Thursday began, we decided that a trip to La Bufadora was in order. Having seen the blow-hole some 6 times, this trip was more of a time consumer than anything we were extremely interested in. As we approached Maneadero and the turn-off to La Bufadora, I mentioned that I had always wondered what was on the road south of town. Just then, Rob and I realized that this was the plan for the day. As we reached the turn-off, we just kept going straight, and for the first time, we were further south than we had ever been. After 1/2 an hour spent winding through the hills south of Ensenada, we nearly passed the small community of Santo Tomas. We saw a small restaurant on the right, and decided to stop for lunch. After finishing our meal of beef tacos and drinks, we were approached by an American man. He was about 55, near 6'tall, and had quite a spare tire. We believe he was either the cook, the proprietor, or both. His name: "Fergie". Fergie asked us how our food was. It was quite good. Then, he struck up a conversation with us that would change our ideas on Baja California forever. Rob asked him if he knew what we would find if we kept driving south on the highway. Fergie's eyes lit up. He told us of the beautiful scenery and solidarity of the road ahead. He also uttered the one phrase now synonymous with any trip south we take. He said, "If you keep driving down this highway, you'll see beaches as beautiful as Hawaii". Rob and I were stunned. Up to that time, Baja was a place where Ensenada was the prime attraction. Everything else was simply "Tijuana-like". Now, our minds had changed. As we got back into our car, we wondered aloud if Fergie was putting us on. How could such beautiful beaches lie so close to the ugliness that is the beaches of Los Angeles, or even Ensenada? We were determined to find out the truth for ourselves. We headed south for another 30 minutes, turning around just north of the city of San Vicente. The search for the "Hawaiian beaches" would have to be set for another day. As we headed back to Ensenada, and home the next day, our thoughts were consumed with what Fergie had said. When we arrived back home, we discussed future trips, and finally drove to San Vicente with 3 other friends in November of 1988. We did find a turnoff (paved) to the ocean, but it stopped at some cliffs overlooking the Pacific, and was far from "Hawaiianesque". During the next few months, Rob and I made plans to take a trip all the way to Cabo San Lucas. We were partially urged on by those famous comments made by Fergie on that fateful trip. As the time approached for the "big trip", another friend joined in, Robert Eastman. Together the 3 of us made our journey in late-July of 1989. It had taken over a year, but Rob and I had finally found those "Hawaiian" beaches. It was a bit further down than we had expected, but it ended up being well worth the time and effort. And to think, if not for the late-night dinner, if not for the blandness that is Ensenada on weekdays, if not for the misguided, yet totally true comments of an overweight American cook in a Mexican diner in the middle of nowhere, this trip may have never come to fruition. It could also be said, and you would probably be right, that we would have eventually made the trip south anyway, since it was on our minds even before meeting Fergie. We probably would have eventually gone on to Cabo some time in our lives. But, hey, doesn't this make a much better story? As for Fergie, up to now (January 2000) neither of us has seen him since. I can't even recall if the restaurant is still there in Santo Tomas. Nowadays, the city is simply a "fly by", with no real reason for us to stop there. Even so, you would definitely have to count this as one of the main events of our Baja lives. This was what Rob and I affectionately call the "trip that started it all". And isn't that the truth. |