South Of The Border And More: 2/17/15 Adiós Sea of Cortez

Dawn showed up in all her glory early this morning in Loreto. As the sun kissed the Gulf, we rode out for breakfast. This appealing little town held us over coffee, as we sat enjoying the architecture.

How welcoming Mexico can be. You relax into the color and the culture, but then a road block smacks you back into reality. This time the Federales searched us all, pulling gear out of our saddlebags. Finding my leather jacket alerted their suspicions. On a belt loop, I carry a spent shell from a 21 gun salute at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. "Do you have guns" in Spanish meant nothing to me, but Jules caught the jist of it and answered "No... No guns ...Just turista!" After the other bikes were searched, we were riding again.

Goats in the road and a serious water hazard did not scare us off, as we wound our way north. Shocked once again by ultra blue, we carved along the coast, from waters edge, through mountains and back again to Cortez's sea. This Mexican Route 1 far exceeds its extension into California. Pristine and void of other travelers, ownership of the road is a given and the seductive leans over pirate coves lock this ride in as superlative.

When we were crossing to BCS, Jules met a family from Colorado on the ferry. They were on their old RV, headed to anywhere in the Baja to park for a month. I didn't really understand their quest until we swerved around yet another tight, unguarded turn over the Gulf and there below us sat a handful of adventurous campers, living on the edge of nirvana. I yearned to be with them, but the road calls us all in different ways, and we have gratefully chosen ours.

We headed up the coast and stopped at Santa Rosalia for lunch. Greeted by a most masculine dog named Arnold, who stood guarding his porch, we parked our bikes. This town is not only known for its history of copper mining, but also for its unusual metal chapel, Santa Barbara, named for the miner's saint, designed by Gustav Eiffel for the 1889 World's Fair. It, plus his better known tower, won first place awards. Built in reconstructible pieces, the purpose was to move it to developing Christian nations. And here it sits, in this small Mexican town, a design masterpiece.

The desert met the coast, then mountains complete with sere descents brought us into the oasis of San Ignacio. A more traditional chapel resides here. The Misión San Ignacio, completed around 1786, was a treasure. Outside, the masonry and grounds gave true measure to the faith that created it. Inside, the artwork and lavish gold filigreed statues compounded the wonder of this small place of worship in an even smaller town. In the heat of the afternoon, the ice cream store opened after siesta (yes, it really exists) and we savored local sweets on the town square.

Spiritually uplifted, we soared from San Ignacious out into the desert to cross to the Pacific. We have left the enchanting Gulf of Cortez for good. Tonight we rest in Guerrero Negro on the Pacific. Two industries keep this marginal town intact - salt and whales. Tomorrow we will experience them both.

Loreto sunrise