Skinny dipping, blisters, and food poisoning
“Wait, did I only shave one armpit?” – Kerri
An unknown amount of miles on a dirt road, once again rewards the risk with a gem of a beach and town. The tiny town of Cabo Pulmo rests within a National Preserve – the Cabo Pulmo National Park – about 60 miles north of Cabo San Lucas and is home to a 20,000 year old reef – the oldest of only three coral reefs on the West Coast of North America (none of that fact was known to me until this moment). A great place to snorkel, if I had contact lenses (glasses do not work with a mask) which I do not.
We camped only a quarter mile out of town, easy enough to walk in, but just far enough out to have most of the beach to ourselves. The beach was raw and ever changing. Waves, angry at times, pummeled the loose pebbles, most smaller than my palm, on the beach. Wave after wave, turning them to sand over eons. The large bank of pebbles separated the water from us, but as the week grew old the rocks became less and less of a barrier to the waves. Day by day, they were pulled out to sea and waves began to top the bank. The sound of a wave hitting the wall was thunderous, followed by an applause worthy of an ancient coliseum gathering as the rocks were pulled into the abyss.
Even with the weekend of Todos Santos behind us, the memory would be forced into our lives for a few more days. Kerri, before leaving the artist colony, pampered herself with a pedicure, followed by a little shopping on her own in town. The walk, in a new pair of sandals, tore great new blisters into her feet. And now the price had to be paid. What looks like a nice relaxing photo of Kerri basking in the ocean breeze…
…has a completely different reality when viewed from the other side.
With the beach all to ourselves, we played in the warm teal waters and sun bathed an afternoon away. My tan has been taking hold after a few weeks of beach-life, so I had the bright idea of working on areas not usually touched by the sun. The shorts came off and the clock ticked away. A few more dips and sun bathing, still no shorts, completed the day. And even though I told Kerri, “I do not burn, I just tan” I had not considered that my nether-regions had not seen the sun (or a tanning bed) in well over a year. So, yeah, underwear was not the most comfortable thing for a few days, but all in all it wasn’t too bad.
Long exposure night shot from our palapa, bones and shells hang in the view
Though we would not have any extraordinary sunsets, being on the East side of Baja, we did get great sunrises and fantastic golden moon rises over the Sea of Cortez. Jupiter was fast in chase, rising soon after the moon early in the week. Jupiter (top-center) chases the moon (top, out of shot). Jupiter would eventually pass the moon and start rising first – a dramatic race it was, spanning the whole week.
In the evenings we would stroll into town to visit each of the local restaurants. On our second night, with a slight sun burn in my drawers, we ate our meal and returned to the van. That night, the “S” finally hit the fan, with Kerri waking to the very realistic possibility of having to vomit and diarrhea at the same time. The poor girl spent the rest of the night squatted in the bush far enough away from the van to offer what little dignity there is in such an affair. I could only comfort her upon each of her returns to the van.
would you tow an airstream to that beach???
Yea, I would. The road was being paved during the time we were there. In fact, our drive out was on a few miles of fresh asphalt that did not exist on our way in. Within a few weeks it may be paved all the way or damn close. Even if not, the dirt road was very manageable. The camping area is more than large enough to accommodate an AS. There was a 40′ Class A out there the same we were.