Tuesday, January 12, 1999
Bus of adventure
Adventurous travelers
spend nine days in Baja California
soaking in all Mexico has to offer
By Trina Enriquez
Daily Bruin Contributor
It was all there – silence, chaos, rejuvenation and repose, all
mixed with a little incredulity and a lot of fun.
I don’t know what I was picturing a nine-day trip to Baja
California to be like, but rest assured: It was one unforgettable
experience.
Nine days meant kayaking, hiking, snorkeling and clamming. It
meant shooting stars, moonsets and campfires until 3 a.m. It meant
card games, sleeping and sun worshipping when time was completely
inconsequential.
For all that, though, it was kind of a weird nine days. For
someone who’s never roughed it in her life, it meant forgoing the
luxury of indoor plumbing. I never quite realized what a wonder
showers and toilets were until I went those nine days with only the
sea as my bathtub.
That’s part of what makes an experience on Adventurebus the
eye-opening experience it is.
Founded in August by entrepreneur Kyle Lapp,
Adventurebus-Adventureplanet offers both domestic and international
journeys.
Currently, the roster for bus tripping ranges from mountain
biking in Utah to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.
Helping run the company is Kevin Palmore, who Lapp had met on a
previous bus trip with another company similar to Adventurebus.
Palmore had initially committed to driving just the first two trips
but later decided to stay on permanently .
"Officially, it’s Kyle as president and Kevin as vice-president,
but (job titles) sound too corporate," Lapp said.
"We’re a little bit of everything – drivers, cooks, mechanics,
idiots," he joked. "Let’s just call us adventure leaders."
Lapp and Palmore bring their fun, easygoing mentality to each
trip. Itineraries are flexible, often leading to places off the
beaten path.
"I didn’t want it to be just a look-out-the-window bus," Lapp
said one afternoon as he lounged a bit in the sun.
"(The company) is really just a good excuse to connect with
like-minded people, learn a little more about life and discover a
little more about yourself," he went on. "On a more shallow aspect
– have a great time, party with friends and escape reality."
Certainly none of that was in abeyance from day one of the
trip.
Our first night found us in Ensenada, where a gigantic Mexican
flag unfurls over the cityscape. After several hours of just
sitting as the bus rumbled over, most people were ready for dinner
and a stretch, not to mention a drink.
Off the bus trooped about 20 famished travelers in search of
fish tacos. Many of us sauntered down to the open air fish market
near the pier, where several wooden stands stood with Christmas
lights strung over shark fins mounted on the walls.
At one of these stands I plopped into a bar chair as orders for
fish and shrimp tacos were rapped out by Jesus Mendez, a fellow
traveler from Napa Valley.
"How much will this cost?" someone asked. Prices hadn’t been
painted on the menu board.
Mendez spoke a few words with the chef before replying. "I think
he’ll just give us the bill when we’re done eating."
He was right. At the end, $3 seemed to be the standard price
whether a person ordered two tacos or 10. Bargaining the price down
to $1 was easy.
After a bounty of tacos, people began dandering down the main
strip to bar-hop for a few hours. Bruin photographer Bahman
Farahdel and I were packed in like sardines at one bar, where
cigarette smoke billowed and rose to the ceiling.
"You want to just walk around for a little while?" he shouted
above the cacophony.
Out we went into the brisk night air, past a few abandoned
buildings and trash heaps, past small children selling their wares
and taco vendors peddling their goods.
By the time we all made it back and the bus was again on the
road, our sober group had morphed into a raucous bunch of revelers.
Suffice it to say that after a box of Bohemia beer was busted open,
people were having a pretty wild time.
"I have to keep an eye out to make sure things don’t get too out
of hand," Palmore said. "Every group is different and we let them
find their own vibe. They really hit a spark at the bars."
So here we all were, some laughing, some sleeping, with sleeping
bags askew and reading lights punctuating the darkness. We were all
stretched out on the huge convertible bus mattress which Lapp had
built himself.
Upon buying the 1956 double-decker bus, Lapp had set out
removing the seats, installing in their place two fairly wide
wooden benches spanning the length and width of the seat space. He
placed cushions on the benches to create two couches facing each
other. Underneath and above the benches was storage space for
personal belongings.
At night, boards could be placed across the aisle between the
couches with cushions placed on the boards, and it was on this
mattress of sorts that people had rolled out their sleeping bags in
foot-to-head formation.
The bus bounced over dips and holes in the road as I looked up
and saw the moon and stars through the one of the skylights in the
ceiling.
"I think this has been one of the oddest nights of my life,"
Farahdel said in a low voice.
I pondered that, taking in my surroundings, and then turned to
him with a grin. "I think it’s been the oddest night of mine."
Desert oasis
Late the next morning, Lapp and Palmore set up what would
essentially serve as our kitchen for the rest of the trip. Atop one
of three folding tables was a portable gas-powered stove, along
with fresh bananas, pineapples, blueberries, apples, yogurt, hot
cocoa, all waiting in the desert sunshine to be devoured.
Craig Goishi and Natalie Conrad of Glen Ellen tended to the
French toast on the griddles as Palmore set out the four buckets in
which we would wash our dishes.
"You get a different experience on a trip when you’re helping
out (with cooking and cleaning)," Palmore said. "We don’t have to
pay anybody to do it, and it bonds people together more
quickly."
I hovered around the stoves, sniffing the honeyed aroma of the
golden toast when Lapp saw me standing there idly.
"Here," he said, handing me a spatula, "can you make some French
toast while I go do something?"
I took the spatula from him and looked on uncertainly as Natalie
soaked a slice of bread in melted butter before placing it on the
griddle. I just hoped I wouldn’t burn breakfast.
To shower or not
For the first couple of days we spent much of our time on the
road.
Backpacks and pillows littered the cushions as The Eagles played
on the sound system. Some people dozed, others chatted amiably, and
still others played cards or listened to their CD players.
We pulled into San Ignacio that evening, ready for the showers
at a small trailer park where we would spend the night.
"Are you going to take a shower?" Lena Digenti asked as we
loitered outside while dinner was cooking.
I glanced at the shower water puddling onto the dirt around the
stalls and replied that I probably wouldn’t. Showers cost $1
apiece, and we’d be at the ocean the next day anyway.
Digenti, who had been on a previous Adventurebus trip with her
boyfriend Eric Graham, glanced at the showers as well.
"I think the owner’s heating up hot water with a small fire
behind the stalls there," said Digenti.
In all fairness, showers were available throughout the entire
trip, but I guess I just wanted to see how long I could go without
actually taking one.
Hadn’t Palmore said that he’d gone for two weeks without a real
shower, bathing in the ocean instead?
"You really don’t need to shower as much here because you get
dirtier in the city than in the country," Palmore said. "I can’t
explain it."
I couldn’t, either.
Shower water had to be imported from Mulege, a town about
one-half hour drive away from the beach at Bahia Concepcion where
we spent the next few days.
Sometimes we sea kayaked at midnight, occasionally spotting
porpoises breaking the water’s surface.
Snorkeling for clams and sun worshipping by the glassy teal
waters filled the days .
On this trip, campfires lasted until 2 a.m., when many people
crashed on cushions under the stars.
"Every trip is different, though, because of atmosphere and
timing," Lapp said. "The trip changes every time."
For more information about Adventurebus, check out their web
site at www.adventurebus.com or call 1-888-73PLANET.Photos by
BAHMAN FARAHDEL/Daily Bruin
Brandon Whitacre and friends spent over $135 for a fireworks
show on New Year’s Eve in Escondite in Baja California, Mexico.
Elisa Hawksley, 19, and Brandon Whitacre, 21, shake Maureen
Vincenty, 15, out of her sleeping bag.
(Left to right) Andrew Gilford of Napa Valley, Eric Cramer of
Costa Mesa, Craig Goishi of Glen Allen, Cecily Rhind of Australia
and Runard Reed of Norway play card games.
Lindsay Ritter, a second-year art student from UC Riverside,
scrubs the shells of sea turtles.
Comments, feedback, problems?
© 1998 ASUCLA Communications Board[Home]