The often written about East Cape. We were convinced we would find a haven waiting for us here. Books and articles of the area endlessly enticed us with descriptions of off the grid communities perfectly completed by a backdrop of the beautiful Sea of Cortez. We imagined the East Cape being a refuge for us. Our heads filled with images of perfectly scattered, self sufficient, “beachy” bungalows, and a hippie/alternative community vibe. We heard many stories of it’s remoteness, but also of it’s close proximity to San Jose. We read of it’s good, long surf, and of it’s warm water. The East Cape truly sounded like paradise!
We were giddy as we rolled towards this much anticipated destination. As we drove out of the monstrous, luxury vacation developments of Cabo and San Jose, we searched for the road to take us to our new sliver of paradise. However, the only coast road on our map was now the main route to sprawling, upscale developments, driving us directly into a resort. A dead end. Spirits still high, we finally found the needed road sweeping along the crystal blue, Sea of Cortez. Wow! What a beautiful sight!
We drove along the coast road, keeping our eyes peeled for the little havens we knew we would find. Passing a few huge, multi-million dollar coast homes, we decided we were still too close to San Jose. Any minute now we will find our refuge! As we continued north, on the jangling, washboard road, our hearts slowly sank lower and lower. Our dream of a young community with a different goal, our vision of an alternative way of living slowly shattered. While nothing wrong with what we found, it was not what we imagined.
These places were not off the grid out of choice, they were off the grid because it was the only option. Huge estates, huge price tags, all fortified by more fences and barbed wire than the entire length of Baja. Bajumbug! I find it strange how we are drawn towards a place for it’s natural beauty, rawness, and simplicity, then molest it, twist it, and slowly squeeze all those things we loved out, until it eventually looks like everywhere else, sterile. Anyway, like I said, Bajumbug!
While we won’t be putting down roots here, the East Cape is a stunningly wild and beautiful stretch of coast. There is still plenty of space to find your own little paradise. We found a nice, quiet beach all to ourselves, complete with a reef break offering a nice left and right, peeling wave. We later learned this break was called San Louis.
We spent several weeks bouncing around the bottom of Baja. We would set up camp on a magical East Cape Beach and bask in all of the natural wonder it has to offer. We surfed, snorkeled, picked beautiful shells, and just relaxed, contemplating the world going ’round. When supplies ran low we would head back to Todos area beaches. We did this “loop” several times and probably would have been happy to do many more.
While on the beach at San Louis, we made the decision to continue to mainland. Why not? All of the naysayers who almost convinced us we would find gloom and doom in Baja? Shit, they couldn’t be further from the truth! I can honestly say, if you meet an asshole in Baja, I bet you a dollar to a donut he is a gringo. As Americans we can only wish to be half as genourous, kind, warm, and welcoming as Bajaians. So now, I guess curiosity killed the cat, but dang, mainland is calling.
We made the decision to catch the ferry after Semana Santa. Giving us time to do some repairs on Blanca and get the rest of our ducks in a row. Plus, we weren’t quite ready to leave the Baja, not just yet.
Outfreakingstanding!
Definitely an incredible place!!