Spring Break at Gonzaga Bay

Dick Dorkin Baja , , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

It’s spring and the weather is warming – the only sane thing to do is head south to Gonzaga Bay in Baja for a long weekend. Carol and I went with KT and Steve and Cece and Maddy and Ali and we all had a great time playing in the water and exploring  the desert. Our base camp was a couple palapas at Playa Grande.

On our way into San Felipe, we noticed a new Pemex station being built at Highway 5 and Zoo Road - more gas options in town are always good.
On our way into San Felipe, we noticed a new Pemex station being built at Highway 5 and Zoo Road – more gas options in town are always good.
We weren't the only ones enjoying Spring Break in San Felipe - the town was packed. We spent the night in San Felipe, then drove most of the next day to Gonzaga.
We weren’t the only ones enjoying Spring Break in San Felipe – the town was packed. We spent the night in San Felipe, then drove most of the next day to Gonzaga.
Looking back at Puertecitos as we venture south. There's 60 miles of dirt road between here and Gonzaga.
Looking back at the town of Puertecitos as we venture south – there’s 60 miles of dirt road between here and Gonzaga Bay.
Carol and I stop to regroup with the others right about here.
Carol and I stop to regroup with the others right about here.
As an Easter gift, Carol gave me this cool rubber ducky which accompanied us to Gonzaga Bay desperately clinging to the GPS antenna.
As an Easter gift, Carol gave me this cool rubber ducky which accompanied us to Gonzaga Bay desperately clinging to the GPS antenna.
The scenery along the Sea of Cortez was spectacular as usual. On the left is guano-covered Isla El Huerfanito with even more islands in the background.
The scenery along the Sea of Cortez was spectacular as usual. On the left is guano-covered Isla El Huerfanito with even more islands in the background.
Carol relaxes on our first afternoon in Gonzaga while Willard watches from a distance.
Carol relaxes on our first afternoon in Gonzaga while Willard watches from a distance.
Maddy and Ali are real water babies - they were at home in Gonzaga's waters.
Maddy and Ali are real water babies – they were at home in Gonzaga’s waters.
Outhouses of Gonzaga.
Outhouses of Gonzaga.
Uh oh, a recurring theme.
Uh oh, a recurring theme.
Carol gets a photo of Steve as he sets his daughters adrift into the bahia.
Carol gets a photo of Steve as he sets his daughters adrift into the bahia.
Who doesn't like a nice parrotfish?
Who doesn’t like a nice triggerfish, huh Keith?
Always looking for an excuse to drive somewhere, we take an afternoon drive to Punta Final, along the beach.
Always looking for an excuse to drive somewhere, we take an afternoon drive along the beach to Punta Final.
KT snaps a photo of Steve and Cece.
KT snaps a photo of Steve and Cece.
An old desert intersection south of Gonzaga Bay.
An old desert intersection south of Gonzaga Bay.
Who said the 110 volt outlet in our Tacoma isn't useful? It can power Christmas lights and run a blender.
Who said the 110 volt outlet in our Tacoma isn’t useful? It can power Christmas lights and run a blender.
Carol collected shells on her daily beach walks - this was her stash after just a few days.
Carol collected shells on her daily beach walks – this was her stash after just a few days.
Looking north across the desert from the top of Molino de Lacy.
Looking north across the desert from the top of Molino de Lacy.
Taken inside the Tacoma at 3 a.m. - our only recorded memory after a chubasco abruptly woke us up. We were trapped in the truck for several hours until winds subsided - the entire left side of the truck, glass and paint, was sandblasted. Our tent was flattened-over and the floor was covered with several inches of sand. Everything which wasn't tied down was blown into the Sea of Cortez - no mas. We learned the next morning that winds at the airport had been clocked at 82 mph, Hurricane Category 1. A memorable experience.
Taken inside the Tacoma at 3 a.m. – our only recorded memory after a chubasco abruptly woke us up. We were trapped in the truck for several hours until winds subsided – the entire left side of the truck, glass and paint, was sandblasted. Our tent was flattened-over and the floor was covered with several inches of sand. Everything which wasn’t tied down was blown into the Sea of Cortez – no mas. We learned the next morning that winds at the airport had been clocked at 82 mph, Hurricane Category 1. A memorable experience.

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