More snippets

Mar 17

Started at 12:15 PM from Santa Rosalia. Peter rowed. Sailed a bit. Wind died. Then motored. Passed Punta Bufechero and anchored at the second beach, a clean gravel beach. This is where we encountered the osprey last year. No ospreys sitting on the nest now. Though there are nestlings just over the ridge; we heard them early this morning. Next beach up, Jane says, is a mess of garbage. Anchored in about 10 ft of water, many big rocks. Did a clothesline. We were swimming this last year.

Valdesca handles well despite the load. Four people, gear, supplies, and water for at least 5 days. We all did the shopping and packing. Tim took the car to San Bruno and returned in <1 hr.

San Marcos has so much life. Yellowtail rounding up mackerel. Pelicans diving, seagulls chattering, osprey fishing and calling to nestlings, dolphins, sea lions. More life than we have seen elsewhere. Tidal currents apparent around Punta Bufechero.

Mar 21  Caleta los Pilares

Tacking back and forth into easterly-southeasterly, then up comes a big blow from the SE. We turned “a pata” and went back 4 miles to Caleta los Pilares, where we anchored and camped. I visited the abandoned Gavilan manganese mine with Jane near dark. Found some nice chunks of ore. Beautiful hour to be out and about. 

Mar 22  Below Bahia San Lino

Sitting out another blow, with Peter pacing up and down the beach wanting to sail. Tim and I are perfectly happy to stay on the beach. Hard to reconcile. We just aren’t hairball sailors. And four of us are safe on the beach. Wishing we’d stopped at Punta Colorado. Tim and I would have, had we been alone. Nice place to stop, after 16 miles, and assess the situation. And sit out the westerly that was gusting until dusk yesterday and now this norther, neither of which were predicted by buoyweather. As Roger Marin (sailing director at NOLS) told us, you have to do this stretch in good weather because it’s committing.

Missed the call on this norther. I don’t know what signs we didn’t see, or what signs we misinterpreted. No mares’ tails streaming from the N. No barometric fluctuations. We did have the north wind yesterday afternoon, perhaps a precursor. And the calm last night after a big huff around dusk. There was some cloud cover in the north but not persistent; it came and went like we’ve seen other times with cloud cover in the south and clouds that move in from the west. There was the cool, vapor-laden wind last evening. Until dusk, a westerly was pushing the light, northerly gradient wind out into the sea. Really, we didn’t have much to go on. I guess this is one of those northers people get “caught” in. I’ve always thought they were likely to be predictable. I guess ANY wind from the north should be regarded with deep suspicion.

We had a southerly the other day that seemed to come out of nowhere, too. After tacking endlessly upwind in a moderate southerly, the wind amped up and came at us like a wall. We were looking south at the whitecaps. And two sailboats headed north were reefed. One had a storm trysail, looked like, and a storm jib. The other had a furled jib alone.

Yesterday, during the westerly, we saw a cruiser go by, heading south, ghosting along on a mainsail before the wind. No jib. Then, the boat passed into the zone of westerly wind and changed to a starboard tack, spilling a lot of wind from the main. That told me the westerly gusts were significant.

Today, there are no boats about. No cruisers. No pangas. Everybody is sitting tight. Of course, the fishermen don’t catch much on a day like this. Or they fish the few calm spots around, of which there aren’t many here.

Tim hiked out to the lighthouse earlier this morning. Didn’t see much hopeful in terms of better anchorages. The way to go, if we decided to leave this beach, would be to go way out and sail far. The landings are the problem, though, no matter if you land nearby or far away. Tim said Caleta San Sebastian looked hellish for a landing. There were huge rollers sweeping down the coast, which would make it tough to hit that tiny slot, especially with the shoals on the south side. We already know of one sailboat that came to grief on those shoals not too long ago.

We are about mid-tide now, at noon. Either the tide will keep flooding slowly until early tonight (if the tides here are like Santa Rosalia) or it will go slack for a while and then flood some more (if, on the other hand, the tides here are like Loreto). In any event, it will rise another 40 cm. We have to keep the boat in as calm a spot as possible by adjusting the anchor rode. Tim thinks Punta la Laguna (last year) was much worse—a steeper shore, a bigger break, and Valdesca was dragging her anchor. So far, no dragging. We’ll see with higher water.

I should never have relaxed on my tidal vigilance. Tides obviously still make a big difference. And protection from north winds should always be considered—and found! Obviously, those winds can appear out of a blue sky.

I think after this, we’ll pull the boat wherever we drop off Pete and Jane. We can go to Bahia Concepcion and sail around there with a light load. That would be fun. Neither of us needs to do more miles.

Tim is back and says Medano Blanco surf is worse than this beach. There was a marginally protected cobble beach at the N end of Medano Blanco that looked possible, but not easy to get into. The landings more than the sailing are the bight (haha—bite!).

It’s warming up here in the sun. Wind continues unabated. But not amping up either. We seem to be down to five waves off the beach, not seven. Maybe the surf is laying down a little. There’s a sandbar taking most of the hit. Valdesca is riding behind the bar. Another Hawaii 5-0. If you just wanted to be at a beach, you’d be pretty happy with this one. Beautiful colors—marine blue, emerald, olive green, white, and the cream-colored sand. Looking out, as far as I can see, there is nothing, just water.

The wind has shifted some this morning—from NW to N. Now the wind is perpendicular to the waves. This morning the wind was driving the boat down beach. That means the wind is veering, not backing; a good thing.

I wonder what caused that westerly yesterday? There is a topographic low in the peninsula. Maybe just hot air rising over the mountains of the peninsula and then collapsing as the sun passed its apogee. Hard to imagine Pacific air being so hot as that westerly wind.

Platoons of pelicans flying over, in long lines and vees and double vees of 25 or more birds. They soar over the point to the south. A big lift there, I guess, which means wind sheer.

Jane’s question: “Why is the weather so extreme here?” That’s a good one. Desert next to sea. Desert peninsula with cool bodies of water on both sides: Pacific Ocean and Sea of Cortes.

Mar 24  Caleta San Sebastian

Anchored in the cove at San Sebastian, same as last year. Tim and I are lounging beneath the tarp. Jane and Peter are off negotiating purchase of their Baja casita. Jane likely trying to commit their resources to a house and boat down here before Peter buys the blue water sailboat.

We’ll take out here and go to Concepcion Bay for a few days. Eat empanadas and shrimp. See Tap and Anita. Maybe sail to some places where I’d like to see geology—Arroyo Amolares, south end of the bay, Isla Requeson. There will probably be some room for us on the beach at Playa Coyote as it’s late in the season and many people by now have gone north. 

I guess I need to write a book on seat-of-the-pants weather prediction in Baja with caveats about internet sites like buoyweather. This past week, they didn’t hit it once. No prediction of southerly blow. No westerly. No northerly blow. Winds were supposed to be from the SE no greater than 12 knots during the first half of the week and from the NW no greater than 12 knots the rest of the week. Copacetic! Not.

There is really no substitute for experience. We have been keeping track of our observations, predictions, and outcomes. We’ve also learned to leave nothing to chance and to be conservative.

We’ve developed some useful cut-off times for wind and weather. If it’s windy before 8 AM, it will build. Gradient winds kick in by 10:30. Get your traveling done early; get to a protected cove by noon, or plan bail-outs in case weather goes foul en route to a distant, wishful goal.  At dusk, some winds lay down. Some northers start cranking at 3 AM. Westerlies typically start after noon. Local, katabatic winds can displace gradient winds until gradient winds get strong enough to wipe out the topographic winds or the topo winds die (i.e. at dusk).

If a norther dies out mid-day, that’s usually the end of it. Usually. Yesterday, N wind died by 3-4 PM but picked up again today.

We’re trying to make some general observations about El Niño/La Niña years. Northers are more intense and of longer duration in El Niño years.

Here are some maxims that seem to apply down here.

If the birds are flying, the wind is not intense. If the birds are hunkered down, big wind.

First rise after a low signifies a stronger blow.

Mackerel sky, mackerel sky; not long wet, not long dry.

Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning? Mostly useless. Red every night and every morning here.

Often get mares’ tails and mackerel skies coming in from the west that don’t amount to anything. The more organized the pattern, and the more persistent, the more likely it means something. Recall mare's tails and other clouds from all directions at La Reforma. Meant nothing.

Spreading out of contrails in the direction of the upper winds. Useful.

Carry a watch-mounted compass. Keep a log and pen handy. Note times and observations, especially changes.

Distances are huge in Baja. It’s easy to underestimate the size of seas from a quiet cove. Use binoculars. Look for “dragon’s back” wave trains on the horizon. Observe pangas. Are they pounding? Observe sailboats. How much sail are they carrying? Are there even any boats about? When are boats about? Only a couple of boats really early? Lots of sports fishing boats? These observations can really help. Bigger boats often have more information. People coming from towns often have more information.

Mar 26  Caleta San Sebastian

Tim has gone for the car and trailer. He left at 8:30 with Peter, Jane, and Pete, who owns a house here. Tim will hitch to San Bruno from the intersection with Hwy 1. It should take him 5-6 hours, if he gets a ride pretty fast. He’ll get back here no earlier than 2:30 PM. We’ll pull out here (lots of help offered by folks here), and go to Concepcion Bay. We’ll sail there a few more days. Hopefully, we’ll have wind.

1:20 PM, wind blowing hard from the northeast, spilling into the cove. It’s likely 20 knots out there. It started blowing March 21 with a light breeze from the SE. Then, on March 22, it was still in the morning, with a light breeze from the NW in the afternoon. At dusk, the wind from the NW picked up but dropped off during the night. On the 23^rd, it blew hard from the NW-N. On the 24^th, the wind laid down somewhat during the night but started to amp up over the course of the morning, dwindling by about 3 PM. On March 25, a good breeze picked up in the morning, by 8:30, which then amped up during the day and veered to the N-NE. This wind died at night. On the 26^th, the wind kicked in early and blew pretty strongly over the course of the morning, blowing about 20 knots by noon. So it has been blowing hard from the north since 3 AM on March 22, four days of northerly blow.

Sitting under Pete’s palapa reading “Baja’s Hidden Gold” by Herman Hill. Hill is a prospector who apparently still lives in Bahia de los Angeles. He notes that he has always worked alone. He can set his own limits and find his own preferred mixture of risk and reward. He likes the special bond he develops with the desert when he is alone. He is free of distraction to try to become one with his surroundings, to assimilate himself into the realm of nature.

Pacific NW Sailing on Valdesca

Drascombe longboat "Valdesca" Sea of Cortes Mexico

Snippets

April 4   Erendira

Last night we stayed in the village of Erendira on the Pacific Ocean. Impressive surf. Huge swell. Crashing tons of water. We decided we didn't need to travel this stretch in Valdesca. This morning, two cups of coffee each and we’re off for the border. This area is green green green. Fields of cauliflower and artichokes. Dinner last night was quesadillas, left over from lunch, and margaritas.

North of Ensenada and south of Rosarito, flying along on the toll road, we passed Baja Film Studios (AKA Fox Exploratorium). I looked them up later and realized that "Titanic" was filmed there, as was "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World." They have a 20-million-gallon tank and 2000 ft of ocean front. The director of "Master and Commander" effused, "The Baja Tank was our Pacific and our Atlantic, our Brazilian Coast and our Galapagos Islands."

As we ogled the studios on our way by, we missed our turn-off to Tecate, nearly causing me to blow a gasket at the next toll booth, in Rosarito. These tolls are not cheap. We had to pay something like $5 to get off the toll road having paid $7 to get on it. And we were just going to turn around and go the other direction. But the guy at the toll booth didn't care and made us pay the toll. He did give us directions on how to get to the free highway to Tecate, which is what we were looking for. In my annoyance, I didn't pay close attention to the directions he gave me and we ended up right back on the toll road, going in the other direction, heading for a toll booth, where we were going to have to pay the toll again. When we got there, I waved our receipt from 5 minutes before, and told the guy we had made a mistake and wanted to get on the free road (in Spanish, mind you). He gave me the directions on how to do it. And then he asked me, "So what do you want?" I told him, "I don't want to pay again!" Without another word, he locked his register and marched back to the cars lined up behind us and started directing them to move to another lane. With horns honking behind him, he directed Tim to back the boat up and then moved a pylon for us to turn around. 

Headed north once again, we took the Rosarito exit and then the (badly labeled) turn for Bajamar (the free road), and then... To find the left turn to Tecate we had to stop at a store and ask where it was. We were looking for MEX-2, indicated in my 2009 Baja California Almanac.  But apparently that road, since 2000, is called the Corredor Tijuana-Rosarito. And, it turns out, you cannot access it from the toll road. You have to know that in advance and exit the toll road 6 miles south of the Corredor or pay the toll and backtrack 7 miles. I found this online, from someone who had a similar problem in 2006,  "At that time, the entire road was finished except for the final interchange in the southwest with MEX-1D, in southern Rosarito, near the FOX Exploratorium Studios. At that time, one had to take a badly signed detour road carved through the hillside, where you joined free MEX-1 through the city, before you could enter MEX-1D [MEX-2 in my almanac]. I do not know if that interchange has been completed as of now, but road projects in Mexico usually take a very long time to complete." A very long time... It's been like six years.

Once we were on Corredor Tijuana-Rosarito (which means Tijuana-Rosarito Expressway), we realized that it looks good but it isn't. There are monster potholes, stop lights, and slow-going local traffic. As our Catalan friend Martha says about Spain, "Pais! Pais!" What a country...

April 5 Tucson 

I asked Tim last night, “What things did you like about Mexico?”

He said, “It’s a lot easier to list the things I didn’t like about Mexico!”

“But that’s not what I asked you.”

“OK, I like the food, I like the people, I like the cactus, I like the other plants, I like the scenery, I like the fish, I like the sailing, I like the camping, and I especially like the protected coves!”

We both agreed that we also liked the lack of pretense in Baja. It’s hard to come back to a place where so many people have a high opinion of themselves.

Just the maps

Here are a few of the maps showing our route. The first is the Bay of LA area. The second, the San Lorenzo Archipelago, and the third, La Reforma. You can click on any map to get a larger view. Ignore the labels that say "Click to show the elevation profile." When I figure out how to eliminate them, I will...

New version of slide show

I have been having fun with Picasa and National Geographic Explorer to make our slide show more fun. I have added captions to the photos and several maps with our GPS tracks. You can now see our route along the Baja Peninsula. Clicking on the photo below takes you to the Picasa web site, where you can stop and start the slide show at will. This will give you a chance to inspect the maps. Enjoy, and let me know how the maps look.

Baja 2011

Tequila

Surely you’re thinking, “Come on! Nobody can survive 16 days of vacation on 11 beers!” You’re right. We were also drinking margaritas. I haven’t been much of a tequila drinker since I had a bad experience drinking shots about 30 years ago at the Fiesta de Santa Fe. I remember finding my clogs down the block from my house the next day... Not that I’m proud of it. Compared to beer, tequila takes up less room on a boat. And we do like the occasional margarita.

We started out from Bahia de los Angeles with a bottle of El Jimador 100% agave tequila and a bottle of margarita mix. Because tequila and margarita mix come packaged in glass, we have to store them in our aluminum dry box, our “kitchen” effectively. And when they’re gone, they still have to reside in the dry box until we get to someplace we can throw them away. Back in Bay of LA for our first resupply, I figured we’d better do limes instead of margarita mix. One less bottle to deal with. And the limes can go in the lazarette. At that point, we also had to economize. We had a limited supply of cash on hand, and the nearest ATM was a 6-hour round-trip drive. At the Mercado Xitlali, there are no price tags on anything, which makes it hard to keep track of your pending grocery bill. A whole long shelf in the market was dedicated to tequila, but I couldn’t tell how much any of them cost. I asked the guy at the counter if he could advise me about the tequila. He turned around and said, uncertainly, “Uh, yeah, sure,” as I realized he was about 14. I asked him what the best tequila was. He didn’t know but a lady at the register hollered, "Cazadores!" I asked the kid if he could scan some bottles and give me prices. Sure thing, lady. I started out with the well-known and popular El Patron Plata. 950 pesos ($82). Yikes! Our total cash reserve was only 1500 pesos ($129). Then I tried El Jimador. 220 pesos ($19). Hornitos. 240 pesos ($21). La Cantina (in a navy blue bottle with a picture of some bandidos on the label). 150 pesos ($13). Now we’re talking! I took a bottle of La Cantina and a bottle of Hornitos. And a ton of limes. And 32 beers (see above). At that point, we didn’t have enough money left to pay for our laundry, let alone a slush fund in case we found anyplace along the way to spend it. We resigned ourselves to the 6-hour round-trip drive to Guerrero Negro. But not before asking one more person, Kayaker John, if there was a closer ATM. 

John couldn’t help but spark some interest in us. Graham McIntosh, in his book “Marooned with Very Little Beer,” gave him a whole chapter. John is an American, who spends part of the year boating in California and part of the year boating in Baja. In California, he works as an instructor and guide for Current Adventures kayak school. He’s a former high school and college track star and a former member of the US Wildwater Team. He’s a talented paddler, a winner of many kayak races, a veteran of numerous solo crossings of the Sea of Cortes, and generous with his hard-won experience. We just happened to land, the day we arrived in Bahia de los Angeles, in the palapa in front of John’s at Daggett’s Camp. While we were digging around in the boat for our camping gear, he came over to compliment us on our choice of boat. He was familiar with Drascombes and knew exactly what we had and what we could do with it. We got into a long discussion, which continued through the next couple of days, about the wind and the waves and the risks, the satisfaction of traveling by boat, the sites to see, and the people we might meet. We talked about Graham MacIntosh and other kayakers and sailors he’d helped out along the way. And party-hardy kayakers who blew him off  and then got caught in a westerly and died. And how he had to go find the boats and the bodies. John gave us a lot of suggestions that we took seriously. He also lent us $300. That meant we didn’t have to go to Guerrero Negro for cash. Thanks, John.

After we got back  home, I decided to find out what quality tequila we were drinking. I knew I liked Hornitos a little better than El Jimador. Both made a dandy margarita. La Cantina was fine in a margarita, but it wasn’t much straight up. Heckuva throat burn. After we ran out of margarita mix, and left behind the Controy orange liquer (that would be Cointreau in French) for lack of space, we discovered we could make a fine Baja margie with tequila, lime juice, and Mexican mesquite honey.  Of course, we didn’t have any ice cubes so we drank them ambient temperature. When we ran out of honey, we mixed up Vermont margies, with maple syrup. Good enough to drink at home. We’ve even taken to using Agave Nectar for sweetening, which seems even more appropriate than mesquite honey.

 

I found a site online called tequila.net where the site editors and consumers rate tequilas. Before I could make sense of the ratings, I had to learn something about tequila, especially about the different kinds of tequila. First off, all genuine tequila comes from the province of Jalisco, principally, as well as some municipalities in Nayarit, Guanajuato, Michoacan, and Tamaulipas. The production of tequila is regulated, like wine, to protect the appellation of origin. On all bottles of genuine tequila, there is a number with the letters “NOM” in front of it. This number is a unique, government regulated distillery number. Tequila is made from blue agave. If the bottle does not say tequila 100% de agave or tequila 100% puro de agave, then it’s tequila mixto, and cane sugar has been substituted for up to 49% of the natural agave sugars. Tequila also comes in five different grades or classes: blanco (white, silver, or platinum); oro (gold); reposado (aged); añejo (well-aged); and extra añejo (ultra aged). Blanco is the blue agave spirit in its purest form. It's clear and typically aged for no more than a few months to smooth it out. Oro is typically mixto with colorants and flavorings added prior to bottling; it’s used for bar drinks (Jose Cuervo Gold). Reposado is aged in wood barrels or storage tanks from 2-11 months. The spirit takes on a golden color and the taste balance between agave and wood flavors. Some tequilas are aged in used bourbon whiskey, cognac, or wine barrels, and inherit unique flavors from the previous spirit. Añejo is aged for two years, which darkens the tequila to an amber color, and the flavor becomes smoother, richer, and more complex. Extra añejo is aged for three years and is richer, darker, smoother, and more complex.

How did our tequila choices stack up? Both El Jimador and Hornitos are considered by tequila drinkers to be good tequila, fine for margaritas. El Jimador scored an 87. Hornitos scored an 86. We brought back some bottles of Antiguo Reposado 100% de agave by Herradura. It’s rated a 90. La Cantina wasn’t rated, but I’d give it a 90 for the label alone. Actually, La Cantina must be a tequila mixto because nowhere does it say tequila 100% de agave. In fact, it doesn’t even carry a NOM number, although I do find the distillery in the NOM listing. I guess it’s just a cheap bottle of booze. Whuddya expect for 13 bucks? El Patron silver rates an 85, and consumers thought it was overhyped. Locally, a bottle costs $40-50. I think Mercado Xitlali was fishing for some dumb gringo to shell out $82.

Otra Cerveza, por favor!

On every wilderness trip by boat that we have ever done, either by raft or sailboat, beer provisioning turns out to be a major topic. First, there is the question of how much beer to take. Then, what kind of beer. Then, how to keep it cold.

The primary reason for carrying a cooler on Valdesca is to keep the beer chilled. Well, it’s also for vegetables and cheese and milk and eggs. But there are other ways to keep those products cool—storing then in the lazarette, for example. The beer, however, is decidedly better well chilled on ice. Those last few days before resupplying, even the cooler has reached equilibrium with the surroundings and everything inside it is no colder than the temperature of the water, about 60° on this trip.

How much beer? As you might imagine, we have limited space for beer, especially if we are provisioning for 16 days, as we have several times this year and last. The cooler first gets more than half filled with block ice. Then, in go the other perishables. And lastly the beer. At first there is only room for about 4 beers. As the ice melts, and we eat the vegetables, more beer fits in the cooler. In the meantime, we store the beer in rock-sample bags in Valdesca’s side lockers. For 16 days, we decided we could allocate one beer each per day, meaning we had to store 32 beers, which is 3 gallons and weighs 25 pounds. When we resupplied in Santa Rosalia, I discovered 10 beers in a side locker. We hadn’t even consumed our allocation! Tim says this always happens. Everybody gets uptight about having enough beer and people keep track of everyone else’s consumption and in the end there is always beer left over. Well, not always. While Jane was with us, she told us about a Grand Canyon river trip on which there were serious concerns about running out of beer. Then one might, three of the trip members sat up late drinking all of the beer. The next day, they hiked out because there was no more beer left.

Cans are really the only packaging that works on a boat like ours, so we’re limited to beer that comes in cans. Generally speaking, no good beer comes in cans. And generally they are lagers. Sometimes, we can get some decent beer in cans in the US (by "decent" I mean hopsy or dark or at least well-crafted). I have to say, though, that every Grand Canyon trip I’ve been on, there has been an overabundance of Tecate, Rolling Rock, and Carling Black Label. I’ve consumed enough of those to never need any more. There’s nothing like a can of Tecate that spent 18 days in the bilge of a raft and then ended up in the refrigerator at home with almost no lettering left on it. I'm actually kind of surprised we don't have one at the back of the liquor closet. I must have given the last ones to somebody for Christmas. 

So another question is where to buy the beer, in the US or in Mexico? Well, no sense taking Bud to Mexico. Mexico, after all, produces a lot of beer. But Mexican beer is really not very good. It’s all produced by two giant brewing conglomerates. One of the conglomerates, Cervecería Modelo/Grupo Modelo, makes Corona Extra, Corona Light, Negra Modelo, Modelo Especial, Estrella, and Pacifico. Of these, only Negra Modelo is a dark beer and it only comes in a bottle; the rest are lagers. The other conglomerate, Cervecería Cuauhtémoc-Moctezuma, makes Tecate, Tecate Light, Sol, Dos Equis, Carta Blanca, Superior, Bohemia, and Noche Buena (a Christmas beer). Bohemia is a dark and Dos Equis and Noche Buena have “body” you could say, but none of them come in cans. The others are lagers. The light beers live up to what we used to say about Coors, “Freaking close to water.” In fact, the Mexicans won’t even drink them; they export them to the USA. Mexico also has almost no microbreweries and their microbrewed beers in any case have small distribution.

Before we left for Baja this time, we read a fortunately-timed article (by Josh Noel) in our local newspaper (reprinted from the Chicago tribune) rating Trader Joe’s beers. The ratings were: The Good, The OK, The Less OK, and the Ick. Of course, the only canned beers were in “The Ick” category. Tim, who bought the beer, chose “Simpler Times Lager” (“too malty”) and “La Playa” (rated “even worse” than “Name Tag Lager,” which was rated “terrible).  The only consolation, after getting kicked around all day by Baja weather, was being able to say things like, “I think I'm ready for some Simpler Times…” La Playa was indeed awful, even cold, even with lime. It assumed the bottom-of-the-barrel status compared to all other beer. Ironically, La Playa is made in Mexico, so we did nothing for our carbon footprint by buying Mexican beer in the USA and taking it back to Mexico.

On Valdesca, there was a decided order in which we drank the beers. The Modelos were the best. So they were for special occasions or when we really felt we deserved a decent beer (even though they are only a middling beer, IMHO). Then, the Pacificos. Then, La Playa. Sometimes, as we sipped our beers, we got to wondering about which of the not-so-great Mexican beers is the workingman’s beer. Opinions garnered from the Internet, and judging by general availability, suggest that Corona is the winner (inexplicably called “Corona Extra”). Or maybe Tecate or Modelo Especial. In the USA, Corona Extra had a 28.4% share of the imported beer market in 2008, with Heineken in second place at 17.8%. Including domestic brews, Corona ranked sixth in 2008, outselling even cheaper beers like Busch, Michelob and Miller's High Life and Genuine Draft brands. I guess Corona is the workingman's beer in the USA, too.

The beer in Mexico may not be the best, but a nice cold one with lime really does satisfy on a hot day. And you can’t beat the price, same as a fish taco--$1.25 (even in a restaurant). The only thing cheaper than a beer (and a taco) is a lime.

Photos!

Here is the first cut of photos from our Baja trip. We are now back at home. I'll blog some more in the days to come. There are lots of stories to tell.

Baja 2011