Baja Divide

January 25, 2025

Baja Divide - Day 4

December 29, 2024

Ojos Negros to Ejido Uruapan - 44 Miles

Start 7:53 AM

Finish 4:53 PM

Total Duration 8:59

Moving Time 6:13

Stopped Time 2:46

Ascent 3,319’

Descent 4,924’

Tour Total 179 Miles

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/245000334

I slept wonderfully in my hotel room, enveloped in the rare comfort of a proper bed. Freshly showered and scrubbed, I reveled in the warmth of the room’s heater, staying toasty all night. With no distractions, I caught up on my reports, feeling rested and refreshed for the day ahead.

Pete had recommended Rosita’s Café, which had been closed the previous night but was open this morning. I indulged in a plate of huevos rancheros, paired with steaming coffee and a glass of fresh orange juice. It was exactly the fuel I needed for the day.

The morning air was cold, so I started off layered up with leg warmers, a long-sleeve wool shirt, and my gilet. After breakfast, I stripped down to my cycling shorts, jersey, and gilet, feeling invigorated by the brisk air as I set out.

Leaving Ojos Negros, I enjoyed a long, straight stretch of tarmac before the route veered onto a scraped dirt road toward Ejido Uruapan. The road wound through vast fields of dried grass used for cattle grazing, interspersed with bushes and crude barbed wire fences. Along the way, a pack of dogs gave chase, barking ferociously. I pedaled hard, shouting to ward them off, and managed to outrun them.

Turning west, I entered a rolling descent that offered panoramic views of a barren yet striking landscape dotted with massive boulders and patches of scrub. I reached a gate, let myself through, and continued into the solitude of the open road.

After an hour long Japanese lesson, I put on a Duane Train mix, diving into the 74 new shows loaded on my iPod. By this time, the sun was climbing higher in the sky, and I soon had to don my arm protectors. The road, though recently scraped, still had stretches of sand, making it tricky to navigate. I carefully followed another rider’s tracks, seeking out the hardest surfaces as I pedaled through the cloudless morning.

The terrain turned rugged on a steep climb, and I missed a turn because I hadn’t realized the rockslide was part of the route. What followed was a grueling hike-a-bike section with steep, rutted, and chunky terrain. At one point, the grade was so intense that I had to remove my rear panniers and haul them up separately. Reaching the top, I was rewarded with a brief stretch of flat road across a plateau.

The route turned westward, straight into the wind. The climb resumed, growing increasingly steep and rocky. Once again, I found myself hike-a-biking, uncertain about the exact saddle I needed to cross but determined to keep going. From the high point, I could see the Pacific shimmering faintly in the distance—a tantalizing goal.

The descent, however, was anything but easy. The road was littered with piles of baby-head-sized rocks, making it impossible to ride. I’d read that this downhill section was notoriously time-consuming, and the reports weren’t wrong. Like others before me, as evidenced by their footprints, I had to hike most of it.

After what felt like an eternity, I reached a working ranch with a few cattle grazing out front. A parked truck signaled that the road ahead might finally improve.

Eventually, I passed an abandoned house marked on my map as a potential campsite. The long descent into the valley was grueling, filled with loose sand and rolling terrain. Down below, I spotted lush fields and vineyards, though I couldn’t discern what crops were being cultivated.

After six exhausting hours, I finally arrived in Ejido Uruapan. None of the restaurants listed on Google Maps seemed to exist, so I asked a local for help. They pointed me to a place called Chato’s. It lacked a sign, but my instincts had been correct when I rode past earlier. I enjoyed a much-needed meal of tacos and two ice-cold Cokes, a small but significant victory after the arduous day.

Feeling somewhat rejuvenated, I headed to the Aguas Termales for a hot bath. Although the large pool was closed, I opted for a private stall with a large tub, soaking away the fatigue. Locals were busy using the many washing machines at the facility, tending to their laundry as I relaxed.

When I inquired about camping, I was told I could set up in the picnic area next door. It had a bathroom, an electrical outlet for charging my devices, and a picnic table where I could sit and write today’s report. As the evening chill set in, I layered up, grateful for a spot to rest, but acutely aware that the cold would be my companion once again tonight.