The old Land Cruiser, white paint fading and brown with more
rust than not, gave up at the junction. The driver pulled into
the café across from the sheriff's ranch in the dry dusty
desert. He knew they could go no further, a rod had broken or
some such and the car would leave them stranded in the desert
away from civilization even at that here. He entered the
doorless café-home and looked around the empty table-strewn
room. There was an attached kitchen and living quarters, all
"Hola??" He hollered into small echoes off barren walls.
Shuffles from the back of the establishment. A small elderly
"My truck is broken." He said in Spanish. "Is it possible to
store it here for a week or two?"
"Momento." The Senora said. She called her husband who directed
the younger man to put his car in a protected place inside the
rancho's cactus fence.
He moved the chattering truck into the yard and turned the
engine off, set the brake. He climbed out of the truck. A woman
exited the passenger side, followed by two dogs, one small, one
large and longhaired. The driver and the woman gathered some
"I'll be back in two weeks." He told the older man. "What time
does the bus come?"
"Tomorrow at ten in the morning."
The man and woman picked up their baggage, called to the dogs
and crossed the deserted roadway. They sat in the dirt just off
the pavement. When a car or truck came by, every ten minutes or
so, he stood and stuck out his thumb, asking symbolically for a
ride. Where? one might ask. The border was 350 miles north and
there was little between here and there to capture one's
attention. Then a camper pulling a boat pulled up to the
junction, crossed into the northbound side of the carreterra and
stopped in front of the man with his thumb stuck out. The man
walked to the driverside window.
"What's up?" the driver asked.
"Truck threw a rod. My wife and I and our two dogs are headed
for an area just north of Los Angeles."
"We're a group of firemen and families from Long Beach. We can
take you that far." The driver said.
"Where do you want us?" The group debarked the camper to
determine the family's needs and assign positions.
"How 'bout you ride in the boat?" Someone said to the man. "And
keep the dogs with you. They invited the woman inside the
camper. There was room there for one more. Soon they were
driving north. The man and the dogs were sweltering in the open
cabin of the boat, but at least they were making progress. They
continued for an hour or two and stopped for a break. Everyone
asked how the man was doing in the back of the boat. "We're
fine." He said.
"Maybe we can find room in the camper." Someone said. And they
As the simple desert miles passed they had no other activities
except to swap life stories and other simplicities. It turned
out the group of families was leaving La Gringa. They gathered
every year there with other firemen for camping.
They drove straight through that afternoon evening and early
morning of the following day, the firemen and their passengers,
from Bahia de Los Angeles to Long Beach. They arrived at 3 in
"Why don't you borrow our car?" One of them asked. "You can
drive home and get yours and bring ours back later". These folks
had known the man and woman for 12 hours.
The man took them up on their offer. He drove off with the woman
and two dogs with only trust between them and the others. He
drove the tired drive to La Crescenta, got his car and dropped
off the dogs. The two of them drove in separate vehicles back to
Long Beach, where they returned the car and levied heavy thanks
on the Long Beach firemen.
Thirty something years later it's a wonderful experience to
reflect back on, these saviors of the desert that stopped and
took on-board strangers, transported them across deserts and
borders knowing nothing about Mary Ann or me, loaning us a car
when we could have stolen it never to be seen again and
disappeared over a horizon. with no questions asked they helped
us unendingly and with their personal attentions to our needs.
We were made comfortable at their sacrifice that they made while
smiling and with a want-to attitude. While this story includes
only gringos, we were all inspired by the people that live along
the peninsula we love.
Giving is an essence of life, an aspect we would find it hard to
live without. I see it exemplified constantly in Baja