Descending into the Valley of Spirits, things got fun. This was true Low-range 'wheeling, and lockers, lifts, and gears were a definite plus. A sparse array of ocotillo and barrel cactus transitioned to a literal forest of cardon cacti and cirio trees as the canyon narrowed and the track deteriorated. Our two Toyota Tacos were a bit vertically challenged over the larger obstacles as we made our way to a ridge overlooking the mission valley. Blue-fan palm trees carpeted the valley floor, and lush green vegetation to the south end of the valley indicated water, the sole source of all life in this harsh desert environment.
Fan palms cast macabre shadows, and it seemed as if spirits lurked in the thick undergrowth as the road disappeared into the brush, narrowing to the width of a footpath. This was the least-traveled route we had encountered on our sojourn, and Mother Nature had almost reclaimed the trail. On a knoll midway down the valley stood the deteriorating remains of Mission Santa Maria. Originally built of thick adobe walls and a palm-thatched roof, the mission's roof had long deteriorated, the fields had gone fallow, and all that remained were several walls, which were slowly being turned back to earth as heaps of alluvial sand. As the shadows enveloped the valley, we set up camp near the mission ruins, explored the local area, and dined on our staple diet of something rolled in a tortilla.
The El Camino Real, Swimming Holes, and Fish Tacos
We dedicated the following morning to locating a lost route through the mountains to Bahia San Luis Gonzaga, 6 kilometers to the east. We were quick to understand why a vehicle track had never been established. The route from the mission rose to the southeast and quickly became impassable. After Randy Ellis gave multiple demonstrations on how to high-center his Toyota and extricate it with a Hi-Lift jack, we decided to continue on foot.As the trail narrowed to an established footpath, we determined that we were traversing the El Camino Real, the original Native-American footpath and mule trail connecting the Baja mission system from San Jose Del Cabo to Northern California's Mission Monterey. We stopped at the edge of a precipitous arroyo, just a few kilometers short of success. To the east, we could see the north-south road along the Sea of Cortez, which led to San Felipe. Realizing that our lost route never existed, we jockeyed our vehicles around and made our way back to the mission for a dip in the palm-lined swimming hole.
Returning to the highway by early afternoon, we backtracked 35 kilometers south and headed east on a graded dirt road toward the Sea of Cortez. We were now moving north, and that meant we were getting closer to the border, cell phones, schedules, deadlines, and reality. Fortunately, we had another 100 miles of dirt road and a few more stops to make. We couldn't drive by Coco's Corner without stopping in to say hi to our old friend Coco, who came out to greet our arrival. Coco always has a shady spot to share a coldy and swap tales of past Baja adventures. The next stop was Alfonsina's Cantina, 25 kilometers to the north on the edge of Bahia San Luis Gonzaga. Arriving just in time for dinner, we dined on the catch-of-the-day and a round of the best fish tacos anywhere.