And this happens every day

I ‘ll see better when the smoke clears inside my head

And I can listen when the screaming doesn’t repeat everything I’ve said

All that remains is me and who I am at the end of the day

And this happens everyday…

This happens every day…

Toby Lightman

We’ve been at Rancho Conejo a full moon’s cycle. I’ve seen the morning tides high and the tides greet the dawn low. I’ve played in one of the Lord’s greatest playgrounds and came out unscathed and restored. I’ve felt the wind blow with fury heavy from the northwest and felt the gentle whisper of the wind off the desert combing back the surface of the Pacific yielding perfection. I wasn’t able to fish her waters but I prayed for fish and fish was given. I’ve praised God, pleaded to God and loved God. I sang sweetly to Jesus with my dear man on Christmas Eve in the still and dark of the night and knew where the light was. I cried when friends moved on. I’ve had the privilege of meeting a variety of people who share the same love for an area of the Baja peninsula that remains to this day barely touched. Too rugged for most but delightfully secluded for some. We found a wonderful location to store “Evie”. What a blessing she was as she carried us through this magical vacation. My mother’s namesake, I knew we were safe, she is with Him and He is with us.



As my sights turn to the New Year I’m eager for whatever lays ahead. Finding myself in need of a pause and being blessed to get one with a man that God has most assuredly touched in a special way and put into my life. Yes, my cup runneth over…
Vaya con Dios mi amigos

A Fish Tale

Sitting in the lineup some mornings and watching all the mullet leap around you makes a person hungry sometimes. I get this urge to build a fire and smoke me some of 'em... It did spur me on to try my hand at fishing though. I had bought a rod and reel the last time we were out here in '05 and never got around to using it. It always seemed like when the fishing was good the surfing was good and I always opted for the latter. So this year I brought the rod and reel again, never been used and was determined to try my hand at it. Teri, my sister, is quite the fisherwoman and I've always admired her ability to rig her equipment, know what bait to use and never act squeamish as she slips the hook into the mouth of her bait and through other parts of their little bodies I can't bear to think about. She is so tough that she got a hook caught in her thumb and she pushed it through, cut off the barb and pulled it out as if it were just a matter of fact. Just the telling of that story makes my stomach roll.

They use lures to catch sierra (mackerel) and corbina (sea bass). I head out one morning with rod and reel, a container of weights and lures given to me by one of the surfers, a bucket and plastic bag to put my fish in, and a last-minute idea  to bring some toenail clippers in case I needed to cut the line instead of getting the hook out of the fish's mouth (sissy). As I head out Robert suggests I put on my spring suit in case I have to wade out in the water to get a good cast out so I don my wetsuit and off I go.

The first part of the trip is totally humbling as I have to actually walk past the fishermen in the village as they are heading out in their pangas, plus the tide is high so I can't walk wide away from the fishermen but instead have to slide by their boats within arm's length.  "Gringo el loco".  So, walking past that embarrassment, I head on down the beach to where I think fish like to live. I find a nook for the bucket and bag in the rocky cliff and head to the surf to throw out a line. My sister's teaching echoing in my head from prior sessions with her, "Use your whole body, go with the cast". Okay, so here I go ... bam and splash it lands five feet in front of me. Hmm, must have gotten snagged on something! I reel it back in.

 I've fished before as a child tomboy so I know how to cast the line out and the second try was a beauty!!! Wow, did I do that? Imitating the reeling in with the technique I understand skims the lure over the rocks I reel and pop and reel and pop and am feeling rather proficient ... for a moment and then I noticed that all the line I was reeling in wasn't reeling in anything. Something was wrong with the reel. Extremely thankful I had the foresight of bringing those toenail clippers I walk back to my bucket, clip the line, put down my rod and start following the line out to where my lure is hung up on some rocks. Intent on getting my lure back I pull in the line and walk into the sea, much like Gretel following her breadcrumbs back home. So absorbed in this mission I didn't see the surge of a wave come swooshing in toward me knocking me down on my bootie and rolling me around in the surf like a log. Glad I wore the wetsuit ... thank you, Bobby, I pick up my drenched body and just about this time a gathering of seagulls behind me on the cliffs began to laugh, seriously, they were laughing their heads off, as were the fishermen by the fishing village and probably God Himself. I did give up the ghost on the lure but sat on some rocks and tried to fix the reel. After five minutes of that, I picked up my bucket and bag that felt emptier than when I started out and headed home. Upon dismantling the reel that evening, we found that it was broken. Never used it and when I did it broke. Wonder where it was made???
So until next year .... I'll be watching those mullet jump.

Where are the rabbits? - Conejo Week Two

Conejo translated means the rabbit. Rancho Conejo… Rabbit Ranch. Never seen a rabbit out here. Plenty of coyotes that could explain the scarcity of conejos. It also explains why you just don’t see many cats in these parts as the coyotes like them an awful lot.

A solid week of surfing, good conditions, good size. Absolute abundance. This being our second trip into La Paz to provision as we are expecting a solid 10’ swell to be heading in from the west Thursday morning. I should be able to shoot some good footage that day gladly acquiescing the role of surfer to one of a photographer when that much water is wrapping around the point.

The community of surfers here is an interesting bunch. Nardo is our “camp manager” and lives in the small fishing village just about ¼ of a mile north of our camp. He has two wolf-type dogs, Chocolate and Boracha (translated means drunk and because she is a female it is cha instead of cho which would indicate male gender). Nardo stopped by the other morning with a handful of nim he had collected. It is a green plant with no smell, slightly bitter in taste. He boils the nim and makes it into an infusion like a tea and he rubs this infusion on the fur of his dogs and it keeps fleas away. It is also said to be good for the heart.

Every night at dusk we watch the whales on the horizon, some of them surprisingly close. We watch as the sun sets and watch for what is called the “green flash” which happens right before the sun disappears from sight. I’ve seen it once since we’ve been here but Robert has caught it many times. I’m glad I actually saw it once because I was getting to the point where I thought everyone was taking advantage of my gullibility.

I cannot close without giving a mention to the visitor Bobby and I had in the lineup yesterday. The cutest most huggable gray seal you’ve ever seen. He just popped his head up and looked at Bobby and then me as if to say “Que Tal” (how’s it going) and then gave us his tail and dove down below to his playground as we stayed above in ours. Endless praise to God for every detail of his canvas.

Oh, a newsflash….. Boracha had a litter last night of eleven pups. Gotta watch that drinking Boracha!!

Destination reached - Week One Rancho Conejo

Rancho Conejo

This particular part of the Baja peninsula has not changed much at all. Some parts of the shoreline carry rocks where before there were none but the point break still turns out some of the finest lefts I’ve ever ridden in my life. We were greeted Thanksgiving Day with fun surf about chest high. We surfed for three days in perfect conditions with a handful of others. It got a bit bigger the second day and maxed out the third in solid 6’ or well overhead surf. We also met up with some old friends in the lineup and it was a real honest to God treat to surf with them that first morning. Two of our friends married and are now parents of an sweet child named Emily. I imagine I’ll see her in the line up one day in the future.

One characteristic of Conejo is hard onshore winds that buffet the coast. We had a good one on our fourth day and it found us battening down hatches and waiting for it to blow itself out. There is particular loneliness to this area that may have to do with the ruggedness of the coast where the desert meets the sea. It may also be the fact that a handful of folks are out this way too. The water is crystal clear and it seems as if you are sitting in an aquarium as the mullet jump all around you. Today I even saw a seal in the inside break, about the size of a grown man. In its desolate loneliness, there is exquisite beauty and peace. The rhythms of the sea, wind, marine life and the people who live here are graceful in their simplicity.

So after surfing this morning in smallish surf (by Florida standards it would have been outstanding) we headed into La Paz which is 50 miles from our spot at Conejo. Once a week we’ll head here to provision, fuel, launder and connect with loved ones and then back out for another seven days. La Paz has grown and now sports a Wal-Mart that is stocked with Mexican goods with Mexican prices, nothing from China here. Haas avocadoes are going for 18 pesos a kilo and spelled out that is 60 cents a pound. I’m loving it. Give me a bag of those and two big old papayas and lime and I’m ready to head out for another seven days. We are quite content and counting our blessings. 

Vaya con Dios amigos… until next week.

Travel in the Baja

I'm writing this morning accompanied by the crow of roosters and whinny of horses in Cuidad Constitution at Manfred's RV Park. This park used to be owned by Manfred and his wife who were Danish and they grew every kind of tree and catus they could get their hands on. The first year we came through in 2003, I had brought with me a camphor tree. I'm not sure what the special attachment was to the tree but it was at this point in our trip that I decided to leave my camphor behind to grow among the diversity of trees in this park. We found my camphor tree last night and she grew to be so big. We pulled some of her leaves and broke them in half and enjoyed the fragrance and the memory of our first passing through here together.

Our first day in Mexico was Sunday, crossing at the Tecate border. I was estatic. I had forgotten how simple life was here. My eyes enjoyed the people, the music, the smells, the dust and the simplicity of life for those who live here. First day we traveled to El Rosario, second day to Vizcanio and third to Constitution. Today we provision and head to Conejo, 130 miles on the main road and 10 on a graded dirt road. No more electricity or water from a spiget but instead we'll have miles of coast and mas olas. "Evie" has run like a champ!! There were multiple reasons for naming our motor home after my mom and some of them were putting my mothers characteristics of being stubborn as a mule and her desire to always finish well onto this vehicle that would carry us across the United States and 800 miles down the Baja peninsula securely and safely.

The high southern desert is lush and green this year... stunning. The tamales are as good as always as was the traditional breakfast of huevos ranchos in Catavina. Vaya con Dios

Westward Ho

As we sit here in Irving, Texas a very cold wind blows under gray low hanging clouds. Once we come into this state I really begin to feel the westward draw as the terrain changes to flat plains and wide expanses. The drive so far has been pleasant. Plenty of room in Evie to fix a quick meal although I do have to take a stance much the same as one standing in a sailboat under sail. I've been able to begin weaving a few necklaces and in the evening we have been enjoying an audio book of Islands in the Stream by Ernest Hemingway. Glorious weather and day spent in St. George Island State park where we took a four mile hike through the grassy pine forest and dunes that comprise the island. Many of the trees still bear the cat face scar inflicted on their trunks to bring out the sap which was used for turpentine years ago. We aim our land crusier to Balmorrhea State Park in Texas where the first spring fed open air pool was made. We've swam in the waters before but it may be too cool this time for a dip. We'll see....

Hurricane Ida

Today feeling much like a sailor waiting in port for the weather conditions to cooperate with the destination you have charted. Another reason why it is so difficult to nail a date of departure on the head and stick to it. Alas maties, we were unfurling the sails of our land cruiser today and Hurrican Ida has cut us off at the pass. Aarrgghh! We surrender and wait for our window of opportunity to open again.

Yes, I am beginning to feel excited

It has been interesting these past few weeks as we get our gear staged and the last minute details finished on Evie how many social events we've participated in. I think Robert and I have had more company in these past few weeks than we've had in the past year. Invariably we get the question "Are you excited about your trip?" And in our honesty, we consistently answer "No, not yet." Thereupon, in our private conversations we explore why we don't. For one we think it's because these trips entail so much planning and work beforehand. It isn't just driving a motorhome across the country but it is also driving the motorhome into Mexico where you may not have electricity, you dont' have AAA to bail you out and you don't have the network of family and friends to assist in challenges that come across your path. A time also when your faith in God is truly tested. So not only are you planning for the unknown, which is impossible, but you are doing your girl and boy scout best to be prepared. What foods can I prepare that are healthy and store well. What tools can Robert bring that are reasonable. What boards to bring, wax, leash, repair kits, fins... Passports, tourist cards, insurance... extra batteries... Then there is the home and how you leave it for two plus months. Billpay, yard maintenance, animal care etc. "Are you excited about the trip?" I was asked again last night as I had dinner with my two sons and their gf's and again my answer was not yet. "Then why are you going?" I'm asked. And when I thought about that, the why am I going started rolling over in my mind and it must have cooked all night. It was the morning after that upon rising and sipping my coffee as the sun rose that I imagined a Baja morning spread out in front of me. A day filled with the sights and smells of Baja, days filled with my best friend Robert by my side with no work to separate us, only a life that is simple and filled with surf, real surf, and like-minded people who do these things because we love not only surfing but the surfing lifestyle and then finally it happened, I got excited about our trip. Evie pulls out Monday and my baby gets home today!

In loving memory of my Mom

I took some time before we head west to visit my sister in Gainesville and also a dear gf who is about to embark on a journey through breast cancer while I'm away. The visit with my sister was mainly to be with each other as we passed the one year mark of losing our mom. We had sushi and sake in her honor (she loved the stuff) and when we get back home my sis pulls out this old jewelry box that we gave to mom back in 1975. It's one of those boxes that are also musical so my sister winds it up and we sit silently and listen as it plays one of mom's favorite songs "The Impossible Dream". The song was originally recorded by Robert Goulet. The only thing in the box was a yellowed piece of paper that had been clipped from a newspaper. These were the words on the paper...

Slow me down, Lord. Ease the pounding of my heart by the quieting of my mind.

Steady my hurried pace with a vision of the eternal reach of time.

Give me, amid the confusion of the day, the calmness of the everlasting hills.

Break the tension of my nerves and muscles with the soothing music of the singing streams that live in my memory.

Help me to know the magical, restoring power of sleep. Teach me the art of taking minute vacations - slowing down to look at a flower, to chat with a friend, to pat a dog, to read a few lines from a good book.

Slow me down, Lord, and inspire me to sink my roots deep into the soil of life's enduring values that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny.

My thoughts and prayers go out to my girlfriend Debby who gets fitted for a port tomorrow and then chemo on Tuesday as I pack and provision for our journey west.

Porpoise Play

Early morning surf session with husband, probably around 8:30 am, outgoing tide, northwest wind and small surf conditions. Sky had the autumn look, blue with high clouds, water clarity was excellent, clear with a emerald cast to it, the mullet were running. I notice Robert swimming out to the break underwater with his board floating behind him... very uncharacteristic of him sorta amaturish. I get closer to him and he says go underwater, you can hear the porpoise talking. Just at that time I notice two big porpoise riding the waves toward me. We get outside and are surrounded with three to four large porpoise jumping out of the water. It was one of those times that feel a bit frightening because it has never been part of your experience before and there was this strange feeling of fear because of their size and closeness and giddiness because of the joy of it. We saw them leap up out of the water with mullet in their mouths ten to fifteen feet away from us. I was silly with excitement. What an absolute treat. Full of praise and thanks to God for something so sweet, so unique, so special. What a beautiful, blessed morning. On the trip to Baja side, we are having our awning for Evie resewn at the sail makers shop today. The flooring is completely beautiful, leaks are patched. Only two more classes to teach before I retire from teaching yoga (at least until the new year) and replace the teaching with surfing full time.

Ripening Persimmons

Dear silly Sadie, in her earlier years she was a hermit crab traveler with her artist husband George. They have been settled in a more permanent abode for many years now and live down the street in our quiet little neighborhood we share. She has the most wonderful persimmon tree and every year Sadie bequeaths to me an ample supply. They ripen so quickly so I find myself this evening pushing persimmons thru the foodmill. From the puree I'll make persimmon bread and as if in a ritual dance, I'll take some of the bread down to Sadie and George who show their gratitude by bringing me more persimmons next year. Such a wonderful cycle...

Golden Rain blooms

So the whole back yard is covered in the tiniest yellow flowers as the Golden Rain blooms. What you can't hear is the low hum that surrounds the tree as the bumblebees swarm all over the blooms.


 The temperature in North Florida right now is cool, the ocean is very clear and we continue our preparations for our Baja sojourn.


 The flooring in our motor home "Evie" was laid out yesterday. Man, that carpet was dirty. A good friend worked on her innards this past weekend and she has a clean bill of health. She got herself some new shoes too.