Passing Rosarito Beach on Highway 1 is the moment stress melts away. The headache of crowded southern California interstates, the border crossing, and the packed streets of Tijuana (with Google navigating, of course) disappear when you finally see Baja’s western shore for the first time. I had planned my entire winter, week by week, around training for the Morocco Desert Challenge, a fantastic coast-to-coast rally spanning eight days and roughly 1,500 miles of the Moroccan Sahara. The year before, I had entered, never having previously raced a motorcycle. Needless to say, I came in last place. For now, the goal was to obtain as much seat time as I could handle in preparation for next year. A friend shared a mass of tracks he had collected from riding in Baja, so I was set to discover the peninsula at full throttle. As I rolled down the coast, I decided to take a momentary detour and call an acquaintance from the 2019 Baja Rally.

A friend shared a mass of tracks he had collected from riding in Baja, so I was set to discover the peninsula at full throttle.

Mauricio owns and operates Lost in Baja (LostInBaja.com), an adventure tourism company guiding luxury tours from luscious vineyards to desolate mountain peaks, revealing the gems of Baja California. He is also a partner in the race association for Baja Rally (BajaRallyMoto.com), a fun, multi-day, off-road navigation race traversing Baja’s mountains, deserts, and shorelines. After inviting me to his home, he showed me a local moto shop where I could have new tires and fresh bib mousses installed on my KTM 500 EXC-F. She desperately needed new shoes, as I had come to Ensenada immediately after running a 70-mile enduro in Arizona.

I parked my van and set up camp in Mauricio’s backyard adjacent to a bank of succulent plants lining a very rocky beach, a vast improvement over the previous night’s stay in an Arizona hotel. Since there are three AirBnBs on his property, I found myself parked at a veritable adventure hostel and quickly made friends with a fun couple.

Justin and Kyra (WestX1000.com) are a rowdy pair of moto journalists/photographers living the life we enjoy reading about. They were planning to put together an adventure route from Ensenada to the San Quintin area and back. It would be a three-day, 400-mile loop along the shoreline detailing the variety of eateries and accommodations which may be overlooked by the typical gringo motorists shying away from the unfamiliar. The next day I joined them, heading south from the city. Mexican metro traffic could be a fun challenge for any moto-minded American, I would guess, with its seemingly disorderly and faster pace, and less room than any typical U.S. road system. But for those just looking to travel the less-beaten path, it’s a chore. Thirty minutes of that, and we were buzzing up into canyons and past the vineyards leading to Santo Tomas.

Kyra and Justin take a roadside break at the hotel and restaurant El Palomar in Santo Tomas.

We first stopped at the Hotel y Restaurante El Palomar in Santo Tomas, a roadside joint known for killer empanadas, but it was too early for a lunch break, and our riding day was just getting started. In fact, discussing our route the previous night, it had become apparent that I might be looking for more aggressive miles than Justin and Kyra. So, we decided on a couple of places where we could split up, to each ride at our own speed. At Santo Tomas, I took a dirt road that led directly to the coast, leaving the dynamic duo to ride pavement to the abarroteria (grocery store) in Erendira, a small fishing village surrounded by countless variations in routes to pick your way down the waterline, where we would meet up again.

Our hungry lunch companion outside El Palomar in Santo Tomas.

As I cruised up the hill and out of the village, I quickly found my pace on this unpopulated cliffside road. I had my first taste of open throttle in Mexico, breaking the rear wheel loose and snorting around corners approaching the sea. Hitting the water, you get the impression there aren’t any real rules or land use enforcement in place. There are random debris and small two-tracks and trails scattered across a beautiful seascape, generating a feeling of freedom as you pick your way along the estuaries, ledges, and beaches. I was approaching the village of Erendira when, at the top of one of these waterfront cliffs, I found a flat overlook that was the home of a statue of the Virgin Mary. It provided an excellent little place to stop, take it all in, and have a snack.

Meeting back up with Justin and Kyra, we sifted through farmland moving south and found our way onto a section of the recent Baja 1000 (Score-International.com) course, which is great fun riding if you’re confident, but can be slow going if you don’t have a lot of off-road experience. We were approaching Punta Colonet (our next goal was to reach Campo De Cuatro Casas) when we ran into another group of riders going north from our intended destination. Their route was an exciting piece of single-track closely paralleling the water. It was too tempting, so I decided to break away from my buddies once more to ride this unknown section of beach. My partners rode the rest of the race course out to the nearest village, eventually taking pavement south as I rolled the single-track.

The author breaking down drift fundamentals, while approaching Cuatro Casas from the north on fast two-tracks adjacent to the beach.

I figured this next segment was about 20 miles. The crew we’d bumped into had given me some loose instruction on how to get to the next camp on the beach south of the point, but there’s nothing like some good on-site navigating… that is to say, I didn’t really pay attention. I wanted to reach the cliffs of Punta Coronet so I could ride along the edge. Still, after negotiating 10 miles of rocky hill climbs, agave-covered single-track, and crazy, rain-eroded spines descending to the sea, it was fencing and “Propiedad Privada” signs that sent me wandering through odd pastures and herds of cattle looking for some track to regroup with my buddies.

A shot of the winding single-track that descends to the section of beach on the north approach to Punto Collonet—watch out for the agave!

When Justin and Kyra and I found each other at Cuatro Casas, we had roughly 40 miles to get to our end-of-the-day goal at The Old Mill Hotel west of San Quintin. The three of us had individually had a great day of riding, and every mile was a bonus at this point. We made our way south along a route adjacent to the coast through Pirates Cove and on to Camalu, where the navigation became a little tricky. Justin and I turned around after finding an impassable section of boulder-laden beachhead and found Kyra capsized on what I thought was a dry pond flat but revealed itself to be a greasy, muddy bike trap. Justin laughed while helping her out of the muck, and I had a good time trying my luck at moto figure skating, eventually becoming completely smothered in the “grease” myself. We finally pulled into the Old Mill Hotel, having had a great day in the saddle, and met Justin’s parents at Eucalipto restaurant. They had driven down from Ensenada carrying some bags for us and were having a good road trip as well as hunting for oyster farms and tacos. We finished up a pretty high-end, yet affordable, dinner of seafood pasta cooked in a wheel of cheese, quail, and cake, then hit the patio for cigars and storytelling.

Kyra capsized on what I thought was a dry pond flat but revealed itself to be a greasy, muddy bike trap.

The next day, we planned to make a short loop around Tres Hermanas, a series of volcanoes opposite the estuary from Old Mill, then stay at the Santa Maria Hotel, which was only about 10 miles south as the crow flies. Kyra had some work to do, so she went directly to the hotel, leaving Justin and me to venture out on the peninsula, a relaxing ride between the barren volcanic peaks and inlet sloughs. We’d seen on the map a large sand jetty about five miles long, which we were attempting to explore, but unfortunately, it was a natural reserve, as well as a gated community, so we could not enter on our motorbikes.

The real fun began when we made it to Hotel Santa Maria. It was close to sunset, and the hotel is adjacent to a long, flat beach section where a rider can hit top speed on whatever machine they’re piloting and still feel like they’re going slow. We hopped a small dune barrier to the waves to reach the clearing. I must have done three laps on this 15-mile section of sand, racing back and forth in top gear and swaying side to side as the swell rolled in. It never gets old! We sped to one end and played around in small dunes, then back to the other end, finding banks to jump our machines. There’s a zone of flat beaches where a film of standing water lingers after a wave pulls back, and when you’re at full speed looking down the line, the ground doesn’t exist. You have the earth to your right, the ocean to your left, and the sky both above and below. The sunset colors make the horizon disappear, and you are flying. That’s beach rippin’! When night finally started catching up with us, we went back to the hotel for a moto bath.

The sunset colors make the horizon disappear, and you are flying. That’s beach rippin’!

Full disclosure: the following day, our schedule was tight. Kyra needed to ride pavement up to Ensenada while Justin and I put together an all-dirt route for the return trip. We were a little too ambitious and ended up riding mostly pavement back to Mauricio’s place. We’d attempted a 30-mile section of the Baja 1000 course, which took way longer than expected. In the end, we hadn’t quite put together a cohesive off-road route per se, but that’s what happens when you are touring in a new place. Changing directions, getting lost, and going in circles is just part of the adventure. You come up with a route (on paper), and then you have to try it, making it happen or not. Unexpected obstacles are par for the course. You can’t learn what terrain is like from Google Maps, and you can’t experience a landscape until you just go out and ride it!

Kyra taking in the view as the three of us enjoy a golden hour ride on the beach at hotel Santa Maria.

Jaffe Wilde is 32 and constantly on the move. Hailing from the city of Bozeman, in mountainous SW Montana, he spent his college years studying architecture and building homes. He now occupies his time by riding hard every day—be that on the ski slopes, mountain biking, trials riding, or anywhere between hard enduro and desert riding, Jaffe enjoys the freedom of a moto-minded nomad lifestyle. Seamlessly traveling around the U.S. attending motorcycles races and looking for great rides are the goals, he makes it all happen with the aid of his meticulously built van.