Preparing for the 20-hour drive of mostly dirt road down the Baja Peninsula, ignited a place in my heart that has been somewhat dormant. It was Fear. Not like the fear of a bee or snake, but the unknown, unsafe, adventurous, anything can happen kind of fear. The thing with Baja is that there is no Triple-A, and the cops generally aren't passionate about serving and protecting ignorant gringos.
A funny thing about human nature is that we like to share our fear with anyone willing to pick it up. When a neighbor sees me packing my surfboards, and I share my Baja plans, his first response is stoke followed by, "be careful, because I know a dude who lost both his legs in Baja."Read More