on the road

Baja

When el torito struck the Erik, I’m sure there wasn’t much, if any, notice. Fortunately, it wasn’t far offshore, and some were able to make shore and walk for help.

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Oh mommy, I miss you. Now that’s true grit.

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It’s all done but the driving.

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As always, the food was pretty good, although I tend to get a little tired of the Mexican fare from time to time. That’s easily remedied in the larger centers.

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The scow listed badly from side to side in the rough sea crossing, and I was kept awake most of the night as we cruised across the Sea of Cortez.

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