Baja made me a rubbertramp
Three years ago Baja was the catalyst and inspiration I needed to make a major change in my life. I desperately wanted to escape cold, Oregon winters and the limits of being a weekend warrior. When I asked my boyfriend if we could move to California, Florida or Hawaii, he chose Mexico, so we moved into a van and drove south and I’ve been living on the road ever since. I quit an awesome job that basically took me 18 years of experience to get! We didn’t have much money and we didn’t know what was next, but we left anyway.
That road trip was unbelievably rewarding. It challenged us and brought us closer together. Mexico and the Sea of Cortez captured our hearts and satisfied our thirst for adventure. We had breakdowns and setbacks but things worked out better than I dreamed possible.
My boyfriend and I both found summer work in Alaska with great benefits. We get to park on tidal beachfront property and buy sockeye salmon from the source. We move some of best fish in the world from ocean to table and ocean to processing plant. It’s something we look forward to and it provides enough income to live a gypsy life. A year ago we sold our van and built our house truck, with no foreseeable end to life on the road. Having the stability of seasonal work in a place we love is all that I could’ve hoped for when we started this adventure.
But, wow, BAJA.
Starry skies, sandy roads, salty hair and tequila drenched sunsets. Swimming with whale sharks, spear fishing for dinner, free, wild and protected beach camping. Baja is a gem, and with all the millions of places in the world we could go, we came back. We’ve spent the last two months in Baja and we love it as much as we remembered.
But will we come again? Honestly we don’t know. The US dollar goes a long way down here and we love the Mexican culture. We’ve definitely talked about making Baja our retirement plan.
We certainly have Baja to thank for our current lifestyle! If it weren’t for our first road trip down here I’d probably be driving a rusty old island car around Hawaii, barely making ends meet! Or something like that.
We cross the border tomorrow and I miss Baja already. It makes my heart heavy to think about US-Mexico border politics and what we’re going back to in the States.
How do you wrap up an adventure? Where do you find closure for the best of times?
Living on the road means we’re constantly in a state of transition. It’s a steady stream of both closures, but also beginnings. The only constant is in letting go, with gratitude, and moving on.
Hasta Luego, México.
North to Alaska now!
