So I lied a little bit when I said that all we did was sleep the first day at Cabo San Jose. We also went to Walmart to buy supplies for the week. We ate at the McDonalds inside the Walmart and found the food to be very much not US McFood, with the exception of the ice cream, which was delicious.
While we were doing our best to store and attach all the groceries to our motorcycles in the parking lot, we got to talking with a gringo local. His name was Alex and he told us about his own three enduros, including his Honda XR650, and his job. He works as a Cabo tourist activities coordinator and we decided we’d figure out what we were doing in Cabo through him.
One day we went out to Pelican Rock and jumped off a few times. We met some nice Canadians and rode around on their boat for a while, got really close to an aquatic arch, and saw a sea lion.
The next day, Aaron tried to catch his marlin. Catching a marlin is on Aaron’s bucket list, so it was an important day. Instead, we spent the vast majority of the fishing trip sleeping on the deck of the 26′ boat. There was a married couple sharing the boat with us, but the wife didn’t want to fish and got sea sick immediately and the husband followed suit as soon as he caught the first fish (a tiny bonita).
We left on the marlin hunt at about 6am and we were approached by the first mate at about 11:30. Despite this being the right place and time for marlins, generally speaking, this was apparently the wrong day. Cabo is supposed to be great for it and the time of year seemed right, but still we were asked if it would be OK to just go back to port now, as there were no fish to be caught.
Aaron responded that the likelihood of him catching a marlin on that boat that day was much higher than him catching one from his hotel room and was resigned to finish the day. I supported this decision, but was keeping in mind that, at this point, I could claim that I’d never fished in Cabo, as I never touched a fish or pole that day.
So we continued to “fish.” About and hour and a half later, when we were almost sure that we were going home empty handed, two poles started bobbing. Aaron and I grabbed them and reeled in two wahoos. They were small; maybe a little over two feet each, but we were just happy to have caught something that day.
We strapped them to the bikes and brought them to our hotel’s chef. He cooked them up for us and I’m pretty sure it was the best fish I’d ever eaten.
The next day we set aside for meeting up with Alex and working on the bikes. There were a few small(ish) issues that were bothering us, so we knew we had to spend some time wrenching on the bikes again.
For one thing, one of my chain adjusters didn’t quite look right. Under investigation, it became clear that it was broken. We went to the hardware store and bought a long, matching bolt and had a local welder make a few cuts and put it back together good as new. It’s been fine ever since, more or less.
Aaron was still having some issues with his battery. Actually, he’d been able to start the DR pretty consistently since the Gorilla Tape fix, but the connection would frequently become loose. To remedy this, Aaron would jump up and sit hard on the seat and start the bike at the same time, thus making the necessary connection. This action, while looking completely ridiculous from one angle, kind of looked like he was kick starting the bike from another.
He made a new connection, with metal… not tape this time, and there hasn’t been a problem since.
After we spent some time getting things sorted, Alex brought us out for a ride just outside of Cabo San Lucas. The dirt roads were a lot of fun. At one point, Alex ran out of gas, so Aaron shared some of his and we made it to a gas station on the way back. A peculiar thing happened there. Alex gave extra money to the attendant. It was here that we realized that the people pumping gas in Mexico are expecting tips. Suddenly all the bad advice and Wario made sense. Everyone at the gas stations all throughout Baja Mexico probably hated us for not tipping and, thus, gave us terrible advice.
We had to leave the resort the next day, so we packed up and said goodbye. It was interesting staying at that particular resort, because it clearly was not meant for us. It was really more of a couples thing. Supporting this perception was that we were the only not couple there, we were by far the youngest people there, and every time we left the room a maid came in, scented the bedroom, remade the bed, and set the TVs to sexy jazz music. The latter observation was a point of frustration for Aaron, because only one of the maids left his bed as he liked it and the diligence of the changing led Aaron to believe he was being spied on. He literally stepped outside for three minutes to check the laundry and returned to a completely different bedding, so his suspicion is somewhat valid.
The ferry we needed to get from La Paz to Mazatlan, however, didn’t leave until Sunday. It was only Saturday then, so we figured we had a day to hang out. We met back up with our Canadian friends at their resort and chilled.
A little after that, we were forcibly removed from their resort. We didn’t really deserve to be thrown out, but it was an all included situation. While we didn’t eat, drink, or include anything while we were there, the manager called us liars and threatened to look at the security cameras to prove this. We kindly asked him to do so to prove our innocence, but the point was moot and we were ejected.
We found a quiet little hotel nearby for cheap and got some sleep.
The next morning we went to look for the ferry. It’s about two hours from Cabo to La Paz. In between those two places is Todos Santos. In this city is the legendary Hotel California. We decided we’d have breakfast there. It was alright.