
If you are riding a motorcycle in Mexico, the guide books give you some indication of what to be aware of. Top of the list will be the pot holes, gravel, and road hazards such as that. Then you need to be aware of animals, dogs, cats, chickens, cows, donkey, rhinoceros. And believe it or not, kids are not the loose hazard you see in the states, most times I saw the little ones, a parent had a firm grip on their hand as they crossed, or neared the road. The other hazard is not that big of a deal with a bike, but will mess you up, and make you adapt rather quickly. (One of the things you can do with a small big) I am referring to the lack of road signs. This is not just the names of streets, that is there, and make finding hotels difficult, but the directional signs that tell you which road is a one way street, and which way that one way is supposed to go. I found myself looking at the direction of the parked cars, both side facing the same direction was a dead give away.
Pulling out of Loreto this morning I messed up for the beginning. As I turned onto Highway 1 from the main street of city, I settled into the right lane of what appeared to be a two lane highway, only to notice over on my right another 40 yards was another similar looking two lane highway. Using my bike to it's fullest advantage, I did a quick u-turn, and headed in the other direction until I could find an opening to get over to the south bound lanes.
Out of Loreto, and headed south, you rise back up to the higher desert plateau, the road along this canyon is steep, and Mexico has limited budget for things like guard rails, so watch yourself. Once on the over the top, the road lives up to it's reputation cited by Clement Salvadori in his Motorcycle guide book to Baja. You are in for a long boring stretch. The desert is flat, the road is straight, and the sun is bright and hot. You can count the dead cows the vultures are feasting on to remind you why you don't want to ride this at night, even if it would be cooler.

I have to admit, at this point, that sometimes the signs are there, but my head isn't. I roll up to a round about on the edge of Villa Insurgentes and was looking for a sign that would point to La Paz, not seeing one, I go with what looked like the bigger road though the city. I did have a reason for this choice, up to then the single highway would go into the city, and come out the other end on track for continued south bound traffic. I had no idea I was getting further and further away from my intended route as the road did open back up look like the main highway when I cleared the city. I passed two police check points that seemed more interested in traffic going the other way, so I kept going. Then the road quickly turned into something else, something that was obviously a smaller rural road, and not a highway that would take me to La Paz.

I stopped and tried to get directions from a local walking along the side, but that only confirmed that this was not the road to La Paz, but not where exactly I had messed up. Turned around now, and headed back to town, I come up on the previously mentioned police check point. I have no Spanish language skills, and the officer had no English. I was trying to get directions to La Paz, and he was asking for something else. I realized he wanted my driver's license, so I handed him my Florida state license. Then he apparently noted my Colorado tags on the bike. At this point, it would have been challenging to explain the discrepancy to an English speaking US officer, I didn't even know to try here. The Mexico Muni Police officer did say something that sounded close to “registration” to I dug out the bikes registration, and handed that to him. There at least the names matched, and he seemed satisfied enough to let me go on, but still I had no further directions other that keep going the way I came.
The second police check point came up, and I frantically used all the hand gestures, and english words I thought were close to get him to help me. He just looked at me and said, “No habla espanol”.
“Nope, nada,..” I replied.
I could however read the look on his face, it said, “Then what the hell are you doing this far off the beaten path, this deep into Mexico”
With no help he could give this crazy gringo, he waved me on.
In town I did have some plan to reorient myself, my laptop has the map, and I have the GPS attachment to show me where I am. That worked, and discovered that it was back at the original round about I should have gone further around, and headed to the left.
Sometimes you have to get lost to see things others miss, but mostly, well, if you have directions written down, you mighty as well use them.
The next city you come across as you roll south is Cuidad Constitution. This is the town where I gained a greater appreciation for a peripheral vision. As with any town in Mexico, it's all about using every sense you have, and maintaining maximum alert status, it's that this town throws in a little extra.
There is a main road with two way traffic that you first notice. On the side if this, is another two lane road on the immediate right on the opposite side of a planted medium strip, this carries local traffic going south. You find the same two lane of traffic going north opposite a medium strip to your left. With me still? Now you come up the the “ALTO” sign, which roughly translated means, “Stop, if you're in the mood”. You stop and check the oncoming traffic, you check the cross right and left cross traffic, but you also have to check the traffic from that side road that will make a left hand turn across your front. It must work, but then again, most of the cars were dented in some form or another, and my leg makes a lousy bumper.
In the later afternoon I came to the edge of the high desert and could view the Sea of Cortez and the bottom, and still a ways in the distant. The drop along the steep canyon walls is another great reason to enjoy riding the Baja. At the edge of the Sea on the southern shore of the Bay of La Paz, lies the city of the same name.
I had gotten lost enough for one day, and this was a much bigger city than I've traveled in. Added to the challenge was that the hotel I wanted to find was a small back alley place I found in the guide books. So I was ready with my printed street by street, turn by turn directions tucked away under the plastic flap on my tank bag. Didn't do me a bit of good. Someone took the time to give all the streets names, they just didn't get around to posting those type of signs. What worked here, as it did elsewhere, was to find a landmark that matched on my small map, then count blocks down and up from that point until I came to the block I knew the hotel to be on. Then park for a minute and walk up and down the road to find it.
Once on the block, it wasn't all that hard to spot, it was just that it was on a one-way street, and I wasn't sure. The “Pension California ” is housed in a former convent, so the rooms are tucked away behind a tall entry wall, and around a wide open court yard. You can park you motorcycle right in the lobby, which made me feel a lot better about staying there. A bed, a shower and toilet in the room, along with internet service, was all I needed, and all they needed was 220 pesos.