Intro

One autumn morning at the sheltered northern end of the Sea of Cortez on an empty section of Baja beach, two of my best friends and I were awakened by the waxing glow of the sun about to crest the horizon. Soon it would peek over the mountains on the Mexican mainland across the water and we would feel its furnal radiance, a reminder of the scorching day ahead. But for now the sand was cool, the air was still, and we rubbed the few hours’ sleep from our eyes with the languidity of reptiles at first frost.

It had been another late night of driving, navigation done by paper atlas, sleeping bags thrown on the sand with bivys to guard against the damp, beach chairs and a cooler, duffels scattered, a tripod left as sentinel. It was still early days on this road trip, just a hint of stubble on our chins, but already the edges were roughening.

We fueled our vehicle at a backyard tank in a nearby village