Scenes from rural Baja California, Mexico.

There’s a stretch of Highway 1, just south of El Rosario, where the road curves inland and begins to switchback up the foothills into the high desert. We had a family rule of not driving in baja at night because of methed out truckers, bandits, corrupt policeia / federales, and poorly lit bad roads. But on this trip, we pushed our luck. I think we were trying to get pretty far south without wasting too many nights, and as we’d already passed most of the easily accessible beach camp grounds, we figured we’d try to get to Cataviña.

As we rounded a sharp corner in David’s manual transmission ‘95 Toyota single cab pickup, we were greeted by semi truck headlights about 3 feet into our lane. My broski managed to maneuver the truck between the semi and the blasted wall of mountain pressed right up against our side of the highway, with little to no shoulder. No honk from the semi, no hiss of the air brakes... I dont even think the pinche skante warrior even noticed us.

Thanks for saving our lives Davidos!

Scenes from Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico.

Its hard to put into words just how much this place means to me. Childhood surf trips throughout Baja, usually included day trips into Ensenada to get tacos and fireworks, amongst other things. It’s the first foreign city I ever experienced, having not had the know how and courage to explore Tijuana until later in high school. The first place where I saw that people live drastically different from us.

Each time we rounded the highway at the north end of the port, squeezed between the hill side and the massive stacks of shipping containers, to catch our first glimpse of the bustling city. I remember being scared back then. Not sure if it was the language barrier, the poverty or both.

Now it get giddy every time i round that corner into the harbor. My mouth begins to water as my mind auto pilots me straight to Tacos Castillo or Carnitas Los Tigrillos or La Guerrerense. Buckets of Tecate and tequila are never ending at Hussongs. In the company of friendly locals always ready to chat, drink and dance to live Norteño by Los Comisarios. Days seem to last longer in Ensenada.

After 34 years of tacos and blackouts, I still can’t get enough of it. Every May, Jess and I head down there to celebrate my bday, as well as our engagement at Salsipuedes.

Chefchaouen, Morocco

Passing through Aït Benhaddou, Morocco on a month long roadtrip