Punta Cacareo to Mulege, March 30th 2007.


After launching we hugged the shore for a while looking at all the houses along the beach. Im torn about the shore of Baja being sold lot at a time and turned into vacation homes. Id love to have a house on the beach but Im not sure this is ultimately good for Baja. Also, Id never want a house right next to dozens of other people.

After a while a wind came up from the south. We had planned this trip to go from north to south because the normal weather pattern is from the north. We hoped for no wind but expected it to come from the north, not the south. So we ended up bucking the wind the wrong way for what felt like most of this trip.

I had originally planned to stop in the town of Mulege to restock, then continue for a few miles before camping on a secluded beach. On the bus ride back from Loreto, however, I had seen the Agua Purificada store and noted that it was a mile or more inland from the ocean on the Mulege River. I feared it was going to take a while to buy water and groceries. Then the unexpected wind from the south had slowed us down and tired us out. Finally, the thought of camping on an exposed windy beach was not attractive. So we decided to paddle up the Mulege River to camp at an RV park that Andrea had been to before.

The Mulege River quickly became shallow and difficult to navigate. We met a guy in a sit-on-top kayak and asked him where the campground was. He vaguely recalled it, said he thought it was a half a mile farther up the river but thought that the low tide would prevent us from going much farther upstream. Fortunately he was wrong on several counts. The campground was just around the corner. Unfortunately it had been damaged by the hurricane last year and landing was difficult. In addition the camp had a row of bungalows along the river and we would have to carry our gear and kayaks across the road then between these buildings for the privilege of camping in the dirt. While Andrea tried (unsuccessfully) to find the camp hosts and talk to them, an enterprising man named Manual on the other side of the river called out to us. He had a new RV park on the other side of the river, which turns out to be the side closest to stores and restaurants. He would let us camp on a lawn instead of dirt and would give us a ride in his truck to pick up water. We happily settled down for the evening, which included walking into town for a restaurant meal instead of using up our stores of camping food.


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