The idea for this Baja trip came from two buddies from San Diego, Sean and Kevin. They’ve been surfing and climbing in Baja for nearly 40 years, and they’re always on the lookout for a new cliff to bolt. This time they went on my friend Beaver’s private plane and flew down to check out some potential cliffs along the Sea of Cortez just north of La Paz. What they saw prompted a phone call to me to come help them bolt one of North America’s next greatest cliffs.

Unfortunately, recent escalated fighting amongst the Mexican drug cartels, the Mexican government, and now the United States has put a sense of fear across all of America regarding our friendly neighbors to the South. The facts don’t lie: violent Mexican gang activity has accounted for 7,000 deaths along the border in the last year as well as an additional Mexican troop deployment of 36,000 men. There’s no denying the increased kidnappings for ransom, escalating law enforcement corruption, and heightened danger throughout Mexico for tourists.

I’ve traveled to Mexico probably 20 trips over the past 10 years or so, and have had nothing but perfect memories. Mexico is one of my favorite countries out of all of the countries I’ve visited. I’ve always felt the border towns of Tijuana and Juarez have continually been a sore misrepresentation of what life is really like in Mexico.

I wasn’t prepared to let the current stigma of drug violence along the border towns deter my trip nearly 30 hours south of the border into what I know to be “real baja” territory. To a place where the culture is rich, the food is authentic, the locals are as friendly as friendly gets, the surf is flawless, and hopefully to a zone where perfect rock climbing is in obscene abundance.

Our crew was 5 deep.... Myself

Dave

Kevin

Scotty

and Sean, I’ll explain the bloody finger in a second...

I left my house in Vegas on a Thursday night around 10pm and traveled 44 hours to our destination. We hiked 20 minutes to the main cliff we had in mind just before dark, and to our disappointment, the rock quality wasn’t what we were hoping for. The amount of rock was staggering, the height was optimal (100-200 feet), the features and angles would have been great, but the texture of the rock was a little too gritty and dirty. The cliff sat just two miles from the Sea of Cortez facing the warm blue water below. It would have been a World Class setup.

We sulked back to the trucks in the dark, kicking stones, cursing at the thorns latching onto our skin, and wondering what to do the next day to start salvaging the trip. We sat around the campfire that night, cooking food, drinking margaritas, and brainstormed potential ideas.

I’m normally one to sleep out on the ground, under the constellations, while watching shooting stars until I fall asleep, but this particular night gave me an eerie feeling. Spiders of several species were crawling around the campfire in the dozens, and mice were already scurrying throughout the cars, so I decided to hop in the back of my truck and close up the camper shell for the night. Everyone else slept out in the dirt.

At about 3am, my buddy Sean awoke to small skunk who had latched onto is middle finger while he was sleeping with his arm out of his sleeping bag. He sat up in his sleeping bag and started trying to flick the skunk off of his finger. It wouldn’t let go. He then started slamming it against the nearest rock. It still wouldn’t let go. He then took his other hand and started pulverizing the skunk’s head into the rock while he pried his finger from the clamped jaw. The foul smell from the skunk’s spray penetrated the air, and Sean threw the skunk as far as he could across the wash. The skunk landed, dug his paws into the ground and took off in attack mode after Sean and the gang again. The other three had woken up by this point, and all four started hopping in their sleeping bags towards the cars trying to climb on top. Kevin picked up a softball sized rock and threw it at the skunk and narrowly missed. He then took a cantaloupe sized rock and hucked it perfectly (like Mel Gibson in “Braveheart”) and nailed the little demon dead on - AMUERTE!!!!! The skunk was dead on the spot, no more than three feet from the tailgate of my truck.

I slept soundly throughout the entire length of the carnage and woke up in the morning feeling great. I heard the stories when I awoke and snapped a few pictures of the campsite scene...

The first rock he beat the skunk against...

The bite wasn’t that bad, just a minor cut, but the threat of rabies is what scared us the most. We decided to bail and take Sean to the nearest hospital and airport in La Paz about three hours south of where we were at.

Scotty and I went to the world famous surf spot called “Conejo” about 2 hours south, while the other 3 went to La Paz to get Sean on the next flight back to San Diego to begin rabies treatment. Scotty and I drove to the coast, looked out, and started yelling with joy. Perfect head-high left point break, glassy, and not a single person in the water! We parked the cars, grabbed our boards, and ran for the water. We surfed for 4 hours until dark, trading perfect waves back and forth, and giggling at how good life can be at certain times. We fell asleep to the sound of waves crashing next to the truck, and awoke to Kevin and Dave who had returned from La Paz.

We spent the next two days driving here and there, up this wash, down this gully, while eating tacos, drinking beer, and not finding a damn thing worth climbing on. The trip was going on five days and almost 2,000 miles, and all I had was a surf session of a lifetime to show for it. Frustration and defeat was starting to settle in, but the adventure continued on...

Luckily, people sell tacos right out of their home kitchens along the drive.

Just pull up a homemade cow-hide chair....

Pile on the salsa...

And dig in... Even Scotty, who has been vegan for 6 months, couldn’t resist these homemade machaca burritos.

About 10 years ago, Kevin and Sean had bolted a route near a ranchita (small Mexican village) in the mountains called Sierra de San Francisco which was about 6 hours north of our original destination. Kevin said he remembered some potential climbing in the area, so we decided to give it a look. We drove for over an hour on gnarly 4X4 roads up to around 4,000 feet of elevation in the mountains. At the end of the road we arrived at a small off-grid ranchita hosting about 8 homes, 20 people, several dogs, chickens, pigs, turkeys, llamas, and hundreds of goats.

Kevin asked around for a guy named Ramon, someone who had welcomed him at the ranchita 10 years ago. Ramon immediately recognized Kevin, and within minutes, the entire village were our best friends, and were helping us set up our tents, making us a campfire, and making us feel very welcome. I gave the kids my two climbing magazines I had with me, and showed them all of my ropes and gear. They were all very excited to have us stay for a few days.

Ramon and his humble home we camped next to..

Cute little girl feeding the chickens...

The next day, we hiked miles and miles of cliff bands in the area scouring for potential routes. I rappelled down several routes and couldn’t find anything that looked 5.13 or 5.14 and eventually bailed back to camp with my head hung low. The kids made it hard not to keep a smile. They’d follow along wherever I went and watch intensely at every bolt I drilled, and every cliff I rappelled down to look at.

These villagers make the majority of their money from raising hundreds of goats and selling them for meat. Their family has lived in this spot for 300 years, and their ancestors have lived in the mountains of Baja for over 1,000 years. This particular village sits at the trailhead to the largest concentration of Indian cave paintings in all of Baja. The older men guide 3-5 day long trips with tourists throughout the mountains on burros. The rest of the family takes care of the farm animals, including herding the goats back to the ranchita every few days after they find their way into the deep canyons surrounding the village.

Ramon showed us his impressive arrowhead collection...

In the midst of my onset depression from not finding the quality rock climbing I was hoping for, we thought up a way we could salvage the trip. Instead of being a personal rock climbing trip, perhaps we could turn it into a humanitarian mission and help the village that had been so kind and welcoming of us. I bolted a rappel route into the deepest canyon next to the village so that the goat herders could descend into the canyon quickly and safely, and begin driving the goats out of the canyon and back up towards the ranchita. We also found a short 30 foot overhanging cliff no more than 2 minutes from the ranchita. I bolted 2 sets of top-rope anchors and let the kids have a whirl at it. I gave them 2 60-meter ropes, a harness, a Gri-Gri, a jumar, two sets of anchors, and a rappel device. Kevin’s spanish is nearly fluent and was able to instruct them on the climbing, rappelling, and jumaring basics.

Scotty on one of the challenging variations...

My brief depression turned into satisfaction after we gave the kids in this remote ranchita their own personal climbing wall and gave the next generation of goat herders new tools to accomplish their job more efficiently. The locals were very thankful and made us promise to return someday in the future.

Scotty and I drove a few more hours north to the famous surf break called “The Wall” which was still about 10 hours south of the border. Like our previous surf session, we showed up to a magical coastline without a single person to be seen anywhere. Just several hours of killer waves all to ourselves while squinting at a beautiful Baja sunset. It was a much needed perfect finish to cap off a journey that otherwise lacked perfection.