Baja Divide - Day 12 • 29°13'38" N 114°48'57" W to 28°52'33" N 114°24'47" W

Baja Divide - Day 12
January 6, 2025 29°13'38" N 114°48'57" W to 28°52'33" N 114°24'47" W - 44 Miles
Start 7:47 AM
Finish 4:29 PM
Total Duration 8:42
Moving Time 6:43
Stopped Time 2:00
Ascent 2,550’
Descent 2,588’
Tour Total 526 Miles

I woke just as the first light appeared in the sky, around 6 AM. Stepping out to water a bush, I was met with a sharp, cold air and quickly retreated to the warmth of my sleeping bag. I stayed bundled up, working on yesterday’s report, before slowly beginning to pack. By 7 AM, the sun was up, and its warmth quickly took the edge off the morning chill.

My socks and sandals were still caked with mud from the day before, but I opted to keep wearing them. Last night, I brought two half-liter water bottles into the tent and treated myself by adding hydration tablets. This morning, I topped off my frame bottles and tucked the 1.5-liter bottles into my frame bags. While I hesitated because these bags also held electronics, the bottles hadn’t leaked yet, and their plastic seemed sturdy. The partially depleted five-liter jug was now securely strapped to my rear rack with bungee cords and parachute cord.

Setting off in just my gilet, I soon came to a rise where I caught sight of an island offshore. The sky was completely clear, promising a hot day ahead.

A short while later, I encountered more peanut butter mud. Thankfully, in the daylight, I could spot and avoid it. I’d hoped this section of the route would be flat as it ran along the coast, but instead, it was a series of chunky climbs and descents over ridges connecting the inlets.

By 9 AM, I had covered only five miles. At the top of a long hike-a-bike, I saw what looked like a promising flat stretch ahead. After crossing another ridge, I descended into another cove where a few shacks and boats dotted the shoreline. A van was parked nearby, but there was no sign of people.

The route passed a marsh with a narrow strip of land separating it from the sea. I lost sight of the bike tracks I’d been following and stuck to vehicle tracks instead. The terrain became tricky, with patches where the sea connected to the marsh, forcing me to wade through water. The soft sand made progress slow, but eventually, the ground hardened enough to ride again. I crossed a pair of bike tracks and finally finished off the five-liter jug of water.

Navigating the marsh required more walking through wet mud and soft sand. It was tedious, but I eventually reached firmer ground. Even then, I seemed to pick the wrong rut every time, enduring jaw-rattling "chunk" terrain.

By noon, I’d traveled 20 miles. I paused to reapply sunscreen, eat a few cookies, and hydrate. The route circled back to the coast, where I found an abandoned camp nestled behind a dune.

At the top of another long hike-a-bike, I stopped to look back at the challenging ground I’d covered. I was always curious if anyone else was behind me. In the distance, I spotted a white SUV. They caught up with me on the next climb. I had planned to jokingly ask for a cold beer, but before I could, they slowed, rolled down their window, and handed me a cold Sierra Nevada Hazy Little Thing IPA. The couple, surfers from San Luis Obispo, said I was the first person they’d seen in days.

By 1:30 PM, I reached an intersection with another dirt road. Taking a right, I headed back toward the coast, having covered 28 miles. This stretch was easier, with little need to hike-a-bike. A white pickup truck passed me going the opposite direction, carrying large water jugs, as most vehicles here do. By 3:30 PM, I’d logged 40 miles.

I passed a turnoff for Caron Beach, marked by a camping sign. A convoy of three pickup trucks approached. The last one stopped, and the driver offered me a cold Tecate and a banana. They were surfers from Santa Barbara, enjoying their second day here. This area, known as the Seven Sisters, is famous for its surf breaks.

At 3:43 PM, I passed the abandoned town of El Cardon, leaving me just 26 miles from the next resupply point. The road grew rougher with relentless washboards. Shortly after, a white pickup hauling desert plants passed me, heading in the same direction.

I noticed a turnoff that likely led to a good beach camping spot and saw a pickup truck parked below. Instead of continuing inland, I decided to head down to the coast and camp by the sea. The dunes provided a soft, comfortable place to pitch my tent. After setting up, I ventured into the freezing water to soak my feet and enjoyed a stunning sunset.

Dinner was simple but satisfying: a can of chorizo refried beans I’d brought all the way from San Diego. By 6 PM, it was dark, and with nothing left to do, I settled in for a long, twelve-hour rest under a brilliant starry sky. Tonight’s camp was far more comfortable than the last, and the sound of the waves promised a peaceful night.










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