In December, 1998 I took a 10-day trip alone (with my cat) in a 25-foot Southwind motorhome to Bay of Concepcion south of Mulege. It was my first trip to Mexico in an RV, and it was an eye-opener to say the least. The roads were good down to about Camalu (good in Mexico is equivalent to a narrow, twisting, undulating country road in the US) where some humongous pot holes started showing up. On my way back I came over the top of the hill north of Camalu at about 45MPH and was faced with a double monster that I couldn't steer away from. I actually stopped further down the road to see if my undercarriage was still intact.

The road keeps deteriorating (to something like 35MPH rough at times) until just before Cataviña. Then south of the LA Bay turnoff, gets really bad again until the long straight stretch into Guerrero Negro. On the good stretches it seems that periodically there is a short, super rough section just to remind you how bad it COULD be.

On the rough roads the noise in my motorhome was terrible as it pitched and jiggled, and rattled every dish and metal object. On one of my first surprise drug stops by the army, because of the noise, I had not realized that a cabinet had jarred open and everything had spilled out on the floor. They asked to come in so I grabbed my cat (to keep it from running out) and tried to pick stuff up with the other hand. One of the soldiers took my cat, petted and cradled it while the other soldier helped me pick stuff up. That was the extent of the inspection. Really mean and tough guys.

The stretch of road just before San Ignacio was one of the smoothest that I encountered, but it was also there where I was the most frightened. They have achieved the smoothness by building up a layer of asphalt several inches thick on top of an already elevated roadbed. The edge of the about 18-foot wide road drops straight down about 3 or 4 feet. Drop a wheel off the edge and you would instantly roll over and have no chance to steer out of it.

It was like driving on a narrow bridge with no guardrails. To make it even more interesting, every few hundred meters there is a square concrete culvert set into the road a couple of inches. When you meet a truck that is using up all 9-feet of his side with your 8-foot wide rig (both vehicles with mirrors that hang out almost a foot) it makes for sweating green bullets. I would slow down to make sure I did not meet one right at the culverts. Throw a crosswind into that equation and you have the thrills of a roller coaster ride. There were numerous crosses along the road marking where some never made it.

A trick I learned was, just before meeting another wide vehicle, turn the steering wheel right and head for the ditch then immediately correct back again. This causes the RV to lean to the right and along with the crown in the road separates the mirrors by a few more inches. My right outside dual tire was off the road so much of the time that the inside tire was wearing out. You think I am joking? On the way back I had to stop in Guerrero Negro and have them reversed. The cost for the hard labor job - 20 pesos ($2.00).

One always seems to meet trucks on the tight, steep curves. If the truck is on the inside curve then his tractor has to be a foot or so over on your side of the road for him to keep his long trailer from going off the inside edge. If he is on the outside curve, his trailer will trail about a foot or so into your space. Several times I just stopped and put my palms together. But they are excellent drivers, courteous for the most part and get by each other OK. One has to know the EXACT width of ones vehicle and exactly where it tracks. The narrowness of the roads create an optical illusion and many times when I thought I was passing to the left of a pothole with my right tires, they would hit it.

The other things you have to watch out for are what I call 'Voodoo Vados' (rough dry washes). Some of them can be ball busters, excuse me, I mean ball joint busters. Well, actually both. And another actual ball buster are the topes (bump stops) on the waterfront route through Ensenada. They appear to be rows of 6-inch diameter steel balls held in place with asphalt.

The road attention is so demanding I even had a hard time getting time to look at the wonderful scenery. At 64 years of age, I found about 150 to 200 miles per day, which would take about 4 to 6 hours, was about all I could take without getting dangerously tired and less attentive. I parked/camped alone a lot but always tried to keep a Mexican citizen within shouting distance.

I met almost no RVs going down but met many coming back which tells me, of course, that in December at least, lots of RVs are going down but not back up yet.

Bay of Concepcion was spectacular. As I pulled up and parked onto a pristine white beach, several people (mostly Canadians) came up and introduced themselves. I instantly felt like a part of a small community. Unfortunately, I had to get back. What I did in 10 days I should have taken two months, minimum, to do.

Gasoline is high priced at about $1.60 a gallon. If you use USA dollars then there is another percentage charge. And all the local people told me that most of the meters are set back about 10% or so (you get 90 liters when the pump says 100) and I am inclined to agree. My mileage just before going into Mexico was 9.6 MPG (with a terrific tailwind) when I usually get about 9.0 on the freeways. But down there, driving much slower because of the roads I only averaged 8.5 MPG. For you RV people who don't get that kind of mileage, I have a gear-splitter installed like an overdrive.

One other highlight of the trip was camping overnight at Campground #5 at Punta Banda, south of Ensenada. For $5.00 one can park on a knoll about 500-feet over the edge of the Pacific Ocean, if you have the nerve to drive up on it, and I had it all to myself. There is a great bazaar at the end of the road at La Bufadora. Park at the Restruant/Store on the left and buy something and you won't have to pay the $1.00 parking fee. But the road is 40MPH rough getting out there.

I came back across the border expecting the worst with lots of papers ready (papers for my cat too). The agent asked me where I was from and when I reached for my passport he snarled, "Just TELL me!" He went back and, I think, got my license number and typed it into a computer and waved me on. I was almost disappointed.

One goes into a culture shock going down across the border and then goes through it again on the way back across. I highly recommend it to make one appreciate what we have living in the United States.