Dead
Car Canyon
Once
again, I headed south of the border for a weekend
of fun in Baja California. Our destination this
time was Guadalupe Canyon, an oasis in an otherwise
parched and dusty region east and south of Tecate.
There, hot mineral springs bubble out of the
mountain, feeding man-made hot tubs in a variety of
secluded camp sites nestled under palm
trees.
From
Tecate, we headed east across a wide plateau,
passing through the rural town of Rumorosa before
descending down a long, steep toll road into a vast
desert basin. The road curved and twisted back and
forth down the mountain side, dangerous cliffs on
the side of the road poised like jaws waiting to
swallow unwary automobiles. Glancing over the side,
we saw many past victims rusting at the bottoms of
the ravines. It wasn't long before one of our
teenage companions dubbed the area "Dead Car
Canyon."
Safely
reaching the bottom of the grade, we left the
asphalt behind and plowed across Laguna Salada, a
dry lake bed where, oddly enough, opera star
Luciano Pavarotti had performed just one week ago.
As we crossed the dry sand, leaving huge clouds of
dust in our wake, Lory pointed at the mountain
range to the east. Despite her persistent attempts
to get me to see the optical illusion of the
"vanishing mountains," I just couldn't see
it.
As
soon as I could after arriving and setting up camp,
I changed into my bathing suit and jumped in the
hot tub. After four hours on the road (two of
which, technically, were off the road), I was ready
for some heat therapy on my sore back. After a week
of back pain and chiropractic adjustments, I was
ready for a weekend of soaking in hot mineral
spring water. And oh, how sweet it was.
Next:
Diving
in the Desert
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