I had another restless night with super strange, surreal dreams. Since I was meeting Lupe for a tour at 7:30 AM, I had an early alarm to allow me to have breakfast and get my stuff packed before he showed up.
As promised Lupe showed up in the morning and gave me a very personal, in depth tour of the Santuario de los Cactus. Lupe shared with me that the sanctuary has been there for about 30 years. Six acres are protected with forty more acres surrounding the sanctuary waiting for fencing to protect it from local grazing animals. Lupe’s brother worked in the sanctuary for 28 years, Lupe has been working there since his brother’s death three years ago.
Lupe had a real connection to the sanctuary and its plants. He shared stories about the plants medicinal properties, pointed out spider eggs, local “cherries”, chiltepín chile plants, palo blanco trees with their incredibly straight trunks that the locals use to build structures, and all the different cacti. He showed me how the cacti “dance” when they’re shaken. I feel lucky to have spent time with Lupe and having him share his passion for the sanctuary with me. If you’re spending the night in El Rosario, make sure to ask in town for Lupe.
Departing the sanctuary, it was an easy dirt road for about 3 miles, followed by a 2 lane highway for another 7 miles before turning off on another dirt road. I knew the remainder of the route was going to be empty. Lupe told me about one store that I would encounter 5 miles down the road. There was a sign for Rancho Los Brasiles restaurant at the highway turn off. I stopped two guys in a compact car as they turned down the road and asked about restaurants and they enthusiastically told me to go to Rancho Los Brasiles before taking off down the dirt road.
A little while later, I rolled into Rancho Los Brasiles and ran into my friends in the compact car. They bought food to go and were on their way out. The driver gave me a fist bump when he saw me and let me know he was glad I found the restaurant. I sat down at a table in the shade, ordered some pozole, horchata, and a liter of water, and had a leisurely lunch. I struggled to eat all the food – again – before heading back to the main road for the mostly deserted stretch between through ranch lands on the way to La Ventana. The road was very quiet, I only saw a few cars. One SUV slowed down to see if I was OK and knew where I was going. Even though I was still not eating sufficiently, I felt OK and started the climb to Los Divisaderos, a ranch near the top of the climb.
The climb was long and exposed, with a few steep pitches. My planned route took me off the main road to Iglesia San Blas, but seeing the deep sand between the main road and the church, I skipped the church rather than fight unridable sand. I wasn’t aware what I was going to face a short time later.
Passing through Rancho los Divisaderos I was chased by a handful of dogs. A few squirts from my water bottle sent them away, while I continued pedaling up the hill. Eventually, I crested the hill. Hot and tired, I was looking forward to the next few downhill miles to cool off, and enjoy a fun descent all the way down to the Sea of Cortez. I came around a bend and could see the lowlands around Los Planes and the sea beyond.
Around the same time, I received a handful of texts. I was once again in an area with cellular coverage. I had a quick chat with my wife before Hobbes and I set off downhill with visions of tacos and beer filling my stomach in a few short hours…
Minutes later, everything changed.
Riding down a non-technical section of the road there were long stretches where the road was divided lengthwise by channels formed from water runoff. The channels run roughly parallel with the road, requiring me to maneuver along the channels, riding the high, uneroded road bed as much as possible. A momentary loss of focus and I watched as the front wheel dropped into one of the channels, caught the edge of the channel on the right side, and threw me off the bike.
Physically, I was in OK shape. In the crash, I came off to the right, skinning my knee. My right elbow and shoulder were sore from landing on outstretched hands. I pulled out my first aid kit, bandaged up my knee, and checked out Hobbes. I’m not quite sure how this happened, but the crash bent the arm which my cycling computer and GoPro mount to. Not a big deal. Everything else seemed fine at the moment.
Except for me.
Back on the bike, heading down the hill, I was feeling pretty low. Accidents happen, yet I was second guessing everything I had done leading up to that moment. My tiredness contributed to my loss of focus and the crash. I began to consider what would have happened if the crash was worse? I hadn’t seen any humans in an hour or so, and that was on the other side of the pass I had just crossed. My mobile phone had service and my satellite messenger was available in case I really needed help, though it could be hours before help arrived. Instead of focusing on the fact that my bike and I were both intact and able to continue onward I started down the path of worst-first thinking. This is a helpful skill at my day job, but not so helpful at this moment in time.
Then I started mentally working through the calendar and the remainder of the ride I had planned. Could I get to La Ventana, and stay an extra rest day? If I did, I’d have to go three days straight to get back down the coast to San José del Cabo. What if I try to take an easier route tomorrow as I head toward the coast? I was thankful that I had studied the route, I had a reasonable mental map of my options for the next few days and could figure out a plan.
About two miles past where I crashed I ran into sand. Deep, miserable sand. The next five or so miles alternated between barely rideable sand and absolutely unrideable, get off and push sand. Over the next 90 minutes I would alternate between riding, pushing, and loudly cursing at the damned sand. At the same time, both brakes began dragging and squealing with each revolution of the tires.
The sand broke me both physically and mentally. During this push I decided my Cape Loop ride was done. I could choose to be stubborn and try to continue onward at the risk of hurting myself or finding myself stuck in a more difficult position. The better, wiser choice was to get myself to town and figure out way to get back home a few days early.
First, I have to get to the highway and then ride into town, chasing the fading light and my waning energy levels.
I made it to the intersection of the highway and the road to La Ventana. Contemplating my options, I stuck my thumb out for a ride. Within 2 minutes, a truck with Oregon plates turns on to the road to La Ventana and pulls over. Vince steps out and asks me how he can help. I texted him the GPS coordinates of my AirBNB and he helped me put Hobbes in the back of his truck. I hopped in the back with Hobbes and rode the last few miles into town with Vince. He dropped me off at the AirBnB and let me know he would text me information on a recommend a bike shop in town or, if I wanted, a transportation company to help me get back to the airport in San Jose del Cabo.
Thanks, Vince, your generosity reminded me that there are good people in the world who do things out of kindness and care for others. (Vince texted me the next morning and again a few days later to make sure I got home ok. We need more Vinces in the world.)
Inside the AirBNB I took a shower, switched into clean(er) clothes, and walked a few blocks for dinner and a beer. I called Delta and they changed my return flight to the next day (at no charge! Thanks, CS agent Stephanie!). Vince hooked me up with a shuttle driver for transportation to the hotel in the the morning.
I repacked my gear for tomorrow’s ride back to San José del Cabo and headed to bed.
Bikepacking for Nerds 
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