Baja Bound with The Wyld Honeys
It was our first night in Baja. Our crew had all journeyed separately from various corners of the country to finally converge on a wide, empty strip of beach outside of Cabo. Trucks and trailers parked, and the evening's kitchen set up on the sand, a shout pierced the air: “Holy shit, there’s a whale right there!”
Just off the coast, we spotted two whales slapping their tails down on the surf. We all felt a surge of excitement—in that moment, standing under a fiery sunset while whales played in the sea, we knew we had come to the right place. In Baja, adventure greeted us with a warm welcome. And our trip was just getting started.
Baja, with its untamed ruggedness and remote beaches, beckons outdoor enthusiasts: hikers, surfers, and all adventure-seekers. It’s a place with hard-to-reach corners and a distinct lack of reliable wifi. The raw beauty of desert meeting the sea is a siren call to adventurers and dreamers alike. It's the kind of place where you go not to escape life but to find it—intensely, richly, and deeply.
Our group of five only had two weeks to make the drive back up to San Diego, so we were happy to leave Cabo early on. As much fun as we had bopping around the city (and getting a few tequila shots made in our mouths) we were itching to hit the road and start exploring some of the secluded beaches that Baja is so well-known for. We hit the grocery store one last time, packed up the trailer, and hauled out of town.
Our anticipation amplified as we ventured farther from the city, imagining nights lulled to sleep by crashing waves and mornings greeted by a chilly sea breeze. Our first stop: a secluded beach accessible only by a two-hour drive on bumpy roads with steep drop-offs. We pulled the rigs up alongside three huge Unimogs that had already staked their claim on a patch of sand. Here we found a community of RV-ers and campers, who, like us, were enchanted by Baja's slow-paced lifestyle and constant sunshine.
Our days were marked by exploration, like kayaking in waters so clear you could see stingrays glide beneath you, or finding picture-perfect seashells on the shore. Our friend Glen caught the first fish of the trip: a triggerfish, wide and flat and perfect for our first time fileting. We quickly got to work making dinner: fried fish tacos, mango salsa, and a spicy crema.
Baja's fish tacos are a legend in their own right. One day, while paddleboarding across the bay, we discovered an unassuming shack serving up the freshest, most delicious fish tacos we had ever tasted. Sitting on the beach, we savored each bite alongside slushy Pacificos and outlined our plans for the coming days.
At Playa El Requeson, we experienced the ease of clam-digging at low tide. A simple swipe of your hand over the sand yielded a handful of small clams or, if you were lucky, a prized “chocolate” clam. That night, we steamed them in beer and feasted under the stars.
Our last night was spent in Puertecitos, soaking in the oceanside hot springs. There we met fellow travelers who shared their experiences motorcycling down the winding highways of Baja and offered to cook dinner for us—a welcome respite after two weeks of doing our own dishes at camp every night. We all spent the night exchanging stories around the fire, laughing ’til we cried.
For us, Baja wasn’t just a road trip; it was a reminder that the essence of a place isn't solely found in its scenic views or activities. It shines through in shared meals, newfound friendships, and meaningful conversations.
Baja, we’ll see you again soon. Thank you for sharing this stretch of the road with us. Here’s to the meals not yet cooked, the laughs not yet shared, and the stories not yet told. Until next time!
