We experienced anew the meaning of Mexican Time in the bike rental process of Kirk's mountain bike for our couple of forays into the desert, or is it a jungle; I'n not sure.
We learned about desert paths, or maybe they're roads; they are definitely unpaved. I learned that NWT'n 406x1.5's are up to the task of riding these "roads", albeit with much less aplomb than Kirk on his 27" knobbys.
We learned there is some great fish to be had in this community where 80% of the industry is of and pertaining to fishing. Ceviche has been my fave--lots of good protein unencumbered by corn and queso neither of which I can eat.
We enjoyed La Palapa Griega, a fine place on the beach as you drive into San Carlos. And then there was La Playa de Cortez, an historic (1936) Hotel that envelopes you in restful elegance and gracious service. The food was OK, but not a "I gotta go back".
Then there was lunch at La Manga, which means Sleeve. Now that was an adventure bouncing across the unpaved, rock strewn "road" hoping this was not one of the routes about which Travelers Advisory Warnings are written. This was the town of 115 souls mentioned in an earlier post where the Alcoholics Anonymous building, one of four in the village, stands front and center hosting its 3 meetings per week. The other 3 buildings are a church, a kindergarten, and a school.
Monday, it was Charley's Rock. Not sure where that name comes from, but we sat just touchable feet above the Gulf of California almost able to touch snorkelers tethered to their buoy so as not to get gobbled up by the motors of local boats.
|Kirk's fresh fish pasta|
Wednesday we bounced through the desert to the Nacapule Canyon on our bikes, a very challenging 19 miles, after which we celebrated at Arbolitos. Oh my, the grilled Octopus was to die for. Going back there on our way out of town.
The canyon was exquisite replete with wild horses.
We practiced being quiet, being grateful, and being ready to return to our more active and purposed life in Tucson.
Thank you San Carlos!