Baja Divide - Day 8 • Venustiano Carranza (Santa María) to 30°24'52" N 115°30'30" W

Baja Divide - Day 8
January 2, 2025
Venustiano Carranza (Santa María) to 30°24'52" N 115°30'30" W - 29 Miles
Start 8:17 AM
Finish 5:37 PM
Total Duration 9:20
Moving Time 5:37
Stopped Time 3:43
Ascent 3,440’
Descent 1,663’
Tour Total 338 Miles

I had a restful night at the Hotel Mission Santa Maria in room 155. The sun's golden rays began streaming through my window at 6:30 AM, signaling the start of a new day. Last night's dinner had been a treat—a fantastic fish dish that left me fully satisfied. For breakfast, I indulged in scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, hash browns, coffee, and freshly squeezed orange juice—a perfect start to the morning.

The heater had run all night, leaving my clean kit dry and ready. I exited the hotel through the rear entrance to follow the route along the beach. The sand, with its considerable rolling resistance, made the ride challenging. At the water's edge, I spotted countless sand dollars scattered across the gray sand streaked with patterns of black. Riding too close to the waves, I misjudged one and got my feet wet.

Dressed in my full kit, I quickly pulled over to remove my jacket as the sun warmed the air. After three miles of riding along the beach, the route veered inland. I passed the El Pabellon R.V. and campground, where a large sea creature skeleton surrounded by white-painted tires caught my eye. Campers dotted the area as I transitioned from sand to dirt, heading toward the mountains.

Crossing Highway Mex 1, I encountered a small cluster of restaurants and a store. I stopped to stock up on supplies, purchasing two additional liters of water (bringing my total to 5.5 liters) and several packs of cookies. By then, it was 9:30 AM, and the partly cloudy skies promised an interesting day ahead.

The climb out of the valley was long and gradual, with the track littered with baby-head-sized rocks and patches of soft dirt. Picking a firm path was a challenge; I often spun out in the sand. At one point, my chain jammed between the spokes and the largest ring, forcing me to stop and fix it, getting grease all over my hands and shorts.

From the hills, I could still glimpse the sea and the small volcanoes I had passed the day before. The landscape was dotted with blooming Agave deserti, their vibrant orange, green, and purple stalks attracting busy bees.

The terrain became increasingly difficult, a mix of jagged rocks, loose boulders, and soft sand. Hiking my bike through these sections was unavoidable. In one instance while riding, I attempted to switch ruts to avoid a boulder but lost control in the loose dirt, flying over my bike and scraping my right knee and knuckles.

The path wound around Cerro el Ciprés, where I discovered my left pannier was wet—a leaky water bottle was the culprit. I salvaged as much water as I could, chugging some and transferring the rest into a more secure container, though I lost some in the process.

By 1:50 PM, I found a large shaded stone for sitting, and paused for cookies and energy water. The jets and contrails above me marked the north/south axis. By 3:35 PM, I thought I had reached the ridge's summit at 2,000 feet, but it was just one of many peaks.

As the sun dipped below the horizon at 5 PM, I had covered only 28 miles. A crescent moon and sparkling Venus adorned the western sky, while the horizon blazed with orange hues. Hoping to find a lower elevation for the night, I descended slowly.

Another chain jam halted my progress, bending the derailleur pully cage into the spokes. Coyotes howled in the distance as I worked under the beam of my headlamp. It was fully dark by the time I resumed, navigating cautiously with both my headlamp and dynamo light.

The loose rocks got the better of me again, and I crashed, leaving my right knee bloodied and my elbow scraped. Deciding it was time to stop, I found a flat spot to pitch my tent. After cleaning and dressing my wounds, I ate some almonds and sipped energy water. By 7:30 PM, the cold had set in, and I was ready to sleep. Just one week ago, I was setting up camp on Otay Mountain, marking the first night of my journey.











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