December 2
In a craggy valley in the Sierra de la Giganta, much like this one, the trackers killed Coyotito, shot his poor one year old head off.
Bill on Rocky n' Brew started it all - giving me Steinbeck's "The Pearl"to reread. I got all
metaphysical when I realized that it was about La Paz and Loreto, the connecting marvellous sea coast and the spinal montana range backing it. I had to go see what Steinbeck and Ricketts saw and felt in 1940. While doing that I might hike, bird, commune with nature. That was my fantasy.One serene morning, long before dawn, I departed Le Paz to follow the flight of Kino, Jauna, Coyotito and the spoor of those evil tracker-hunters that wanted to kill them and steal the 'Pearl of the World'. Just before taking to the mountains I stopped at Puerto Escondido to scope the anchorage. Pure and blissful.
Then it was off on my quiet pilgrimage into the mountains. Twisting and winding up the one lane path was a bumpy, dirty undertaking but scenic and quiet, at least for a while. Before
long traffic mounted, far beyond what one might expect on such a road in such a place. Unbeknowst to me another pilgrimage was under way. The once a year festival at the Mission of San Javier high on the divide.Traffic climbed, slowed, then jamned, finally turning to a 'Mexican stand-off' high in the mountains. Policia funneled the traffic, including me, into the parking
lot which, as it turns out, was an intermitant river that runs under the Mission. There they deposited me while the parade passed and the river flowed.
There was no going back against the flood of happy humanity so once the parade passed I descended the range on the western slope, the Pacific side, fording streams about 50 times while avoiding Godzilla spiders.
Steinbeck abandoned me long before. My holy quest entirely failed on this one day of the year when people were in the mountains. I toddled back to La Paz in the middle of the night. Content for it all.
