Into the desert

Distance: 96km

We left Ensenada just before midday. We didn't know where we would finish the day or how far we'd go... we just planned to ride.

It soon became apparent that more planning would need to be undertaken in this part of Mexico.

Towns were small, and far between. Many had shops, but they were shut. We had entered 'real' Mexico - the desert!

The wind was strong and dust was blowing all around us. It was worse when the huge trucks sped past us, blowing dirt into our mouths and eyes.

There is really only one road down Baja, and it only has one lane. And no shoulder.

About 35km outside of town the road was ripped up. Rattling over the rocks we hoped it wouldn't last long - our bikes and our butts were taking a beating!

Almost 10km later the pavement returned. At first we were glad - smooth sailing again! But at least over the rocky section the cars and trucks had slowed, and we'd had plenty of room to ride safely. Now we were back in the fast lane, with trucks barely missing us as they overtook on narrow bends.

We were climbing up through a series of mountains. And no one wanted to be delayed by even a few seconds for a couple of cyclists. With the grit of dust grinding in our dry mouths we moved up the mountains as fast as we could. It was only 490m high, but we were drained at the top from concentrating so hard on staying on the tip of the road.

We managed to average 40km/h going down the hill - even with a strong crosswind. It felt good to be going fast!

The town of San Vincent was further away than we thought - and the first town we'd seen for hours. We arrived as it was getting dark.

We hadn't eaten much since breakfast so we quickly checked into a dodgey hotel that cost far more than it was worth, $22, and headed back onto the street to find some food. 

We found some great deals - tacos for about 80c each, two scoops of icecream for $1.50, and treats at the bakery for 70c. 

Throughout the night we were woken every time someone arrived at the hotel and yelled 'Hola!' down the concrete corridor, since there was no reception and no other way to find the owner.