Baja, Here We Come!

The good news is that the cage of fighting roosters who crowed and screeched all night behind our casita has been replaced with a chile field. The good news is that we have seats on the plane and the passports are finally in order. The good news is that we have some time this weekend to grab a new swimsuit for an eight year old who could not manage with last year's and whose Momma seems to forget the way she grows like a weed.


The dicey news is that I will be the one behind the wheel for the 50 shoulderless miles of curvy highway from Los Cabos to Todos Santos. Few guardrails and lots of white crosses at the side of the road. I will be taking it slow, lowering my shoulders and breathing deep, pulling over for the impatient trucks trapped behind me and remembering a Taoist story I read this week.

An old man falls into a rocky river and is pulled under the rushing surface. All seems lost until he pops back up and the current carries him to the bank, where he emerges unharmed. "Is he a ghost?" wonder the onlookers. "No," laughs the old man. "I accommodated myself to the water, not the water to me. Plunging into the swirl, I came out with the swirl, and that is how I survived."

Which is a good reminder to go with the flow in the face of chaos, a necessary thing to remember during vacation with kids. Funny, the lesson also happens to be the literal way that Randy survived his Baja tussle with a Pacific undertow when we visited in 1996.

Los Cerritos. A replica of the Hotel California on the cliff.

We will stick with the more placid beach of Los Cerritos this time, where only tiny red crabs dare to enter the water near the black rocks and the waves on the sand are much more serene.


Brent's work

Sidetracked on their way to visit the roosters. A shot from last year. Our bird friends will not be missed.