Any book or web site about driving in Baja will tell you the same things: the highways are very narrow, they're bumpy and full of potholes, don't drive at night. One of those isn't necessarily true.
The Transpeninsular, Mex 1, is narrow. Like 19' narrow. It's a 2-lane road that runs 1,000 miles from the Tijuana on the US border down to Cabo San Lucas, but it's narrow. Did I mention how narrow it is?
When a truck-with-trailer meets a big rig, there are only inches of clearance. I'm sure there were times I actually closed my eyes!
To make matters even more exciting, you have to consider the cliffs. There is a mountain chain that runs down the center of Baja and the Transpeninsular zig-zags across these mountains, from the Pacific to the Sea of Cortez, as it goes from one town to the next. Combine the narrowest of roads with often no shoulder or guardrail and you get a driving "experience".
We didn't cross at Tijuana; we crossed at Tecate, and took Mex 3 to the wine country and then Ensenada. Maybe an hour or two of driving on Mex 3 this trip, although in the past I drove it from Ensenada to Mex 5 just north of San Felipe. Good road.
Mex 5 is a dream. For decades it went from Mexicali to many miles south of San Felipe, where it turned to dirt for dozens and dozens of miles. Just a few years ago the dirt part was paved and it now connects to the Transpeninsular about a third of the way down the peninsula. On our way north we turned off Mex 1 onto Mex 5 to go to Coco's Corner and San Felipe.
Despite what I'd read, and expecting the worst, I found those three freeways to be in exceptional shape. In fact, I noticed the difference right away when I crossed back into California; California's highways are not as well maintained as Mex 1, 3, and 5. The worse roads I encountered on the whole Baja peninsula were in and around La Paz, something I didn't expect from a large city that is also a state capital, but they were probably no worse than California's.
So that's the good news about driving in Baja, now let's address what could be improved.
Topes (toh-pays). Speed bumps. Often unmarked, and in unexpected places. Except for wearing of face diapers (and then only in BCS, not northern Baja), I've usually found rules, regulations, standards, and laws to be mere suggestions, and as such, a change of speed limit sign would probably be ignored. And to be honest, why wouldn't they be? The speed limits were often so absurd--straight stretch of road out in the middle of nowhere, speed limit 60 kph (36 mph). So what do you do when the highway becomes the main street through your little town in the desert? First, you put these round, aluminum bubbles maybe 6" in diameter in the street across the lanes so people know you mean business about slowing down. And then you put in a tope, often so tall that my hitch equipment would bottom out as I drove over it. This tope might or might not be marked by signage, might or might not be marked by paint. I'll bet there are plenty of transmissions left on the roads after those damn topes! And all those heavy rumble strips and aluminum bubbles to shake your kidneys apart must provide plenty of job security to people who perform front-end alignments. If they had reasonable speed limits and enforced them, maybe they wouldn't need to tear their citizens' cars apart in the name of safety.
Something else I hadn't anticipated was the lack of paving anywhere except the main roads. So many of the towns we drove through had just the highway paved, all the other roads were dirt (and, thus, bumpy). Not only that, but if you pulled off the main highway to a store or gas station, you probably drove or parked on dirt. All those dirt roads and parking areas signaled poverty to me.
The military checkpoints were a special treat. We probably encountered one every other day or so. We'd be driving along this beautiful (but narrow!) highway, and all of a sudden we'd have to slow down and divert off the beautiful highway onto dirt (bump bump bump) to be greeted by genuine soldiers. They would ask where I came from and where I was headed, and they'd always want to inspect my trailer. Do the cartels ship drugs in travel trailers? Most of these inspections were so cursory, it's like they were satisfying their curiosity about what the trailer looked like inside more than trying to catch me breaking any drug laws.
I did have two "interesting" official encounters. I'd read that the police in Tecate were "predatory" regarding Americans, so I was very careful to follow the rules especially carefully there. Not 3 minutes after having my trailer and accompanying paperwork thoroughly inspected at the border crossing, I saw a flashing light behind me. I turned onto a side street and pulled over. The vehicle was not marked as police and the man was not in uniform, but he showed me some sort of badge and asked to see my trailer paperwork. He spent some time trying to find the VIN on my trailer--it was probably on one of those decals that has flaked off over the years due to the sun--and eventually gave up and sent me on my way. Should I decide to take my trailer to Mexico again I'll probably get some punches and just punch the VIN somewhere easily readable on the tongue.
When passing from Baja North into Baja South, there used to be an agricultural inspection station. All vehicles would be sprayed for pests for a small fee and then you'd drive on. I watched my friends, two vehicles ahead, pay and get waved through, but there was no inspection and no spraying. What was this fee for? The car in front of me had Baja California Sur (Baja South) state plates, and that driver didn't pay. So when I drove up, the guy (not a soldier, either) said something to me. I thought he said veinte, 20 pesos ($1 US), and I handed him a 50-peso note. He handed me a 10-peso coin in change. I paused, waiting for more change, and then asked, "Cuarenta (40)?" as if to say, "40, really?" He gave me 2 or 3 additional 10-peso coins and I drove on. I still have no idea if that was even legitimate!
There are some driving customs in Baja that Americans will find alien. One of them is that vehicles will pass when no passing is allowed (that "no passing" signage is just a suggestion, remember!), and that big rigs and RVs will assist. If you're following a big rig that isn't going very fast, the driver will put on his left blinker when it's clear for you to pass! He's not turning left, he's telling you it's safe! Even with my 5.7 liter Hemi engine pulling my trailer up some of those hills, some cars wanted to go faster, and it doesn't challenge my manhood if someone wants to pass me.
That passing can create problems, though. Some people will try to pass on those twisty-turny mountain curves, and that's just not a good idea. Sure, those highways are mostly empty and the probability that a car will be coming the other way at exactly the time you want to pass is extremely small, but it's not zero. How do I know it's not zero? Because twice on our way north we passed pretty bad collisions on some curves, with the most logical explanations being either someone was passing on a curve or someone swerved into oncoming traffic because they were going to fast on a curve. You've got to respect the curves. To me, passing on the curves is such a silly, unnecessary risk to take.
Another odd thing I saw a couple times occurred in some of the bigger towns we passed through on the Transpeninsular. The highway would become the main street of the town, but the bigger towns need more than two lanes. Now imagine 3 parallel sets of 2 lanes, each set separated by an island in the road. The set on the far left would be coming towards you, the set in the middle would be one lane in each direction, and the set on the far right would be going in your direction. OR, and I kid you not, you might get each pair of lanes being one in each direction! It was so weird when a car in a lane on my right would stop at an intersection and then cross in front of me to go somewhere on my left! I never did figure out how that was supposed to work and fortunately only encountered that insanity a couple times.
The last thing to mention about driving involves getting back to the US. Google Maps took us to the border and put us in a lane with a sign that said SENTRI. I don't know what that means, do you? I wondered if it was Spanish for "sentry", and why we would be told there is a sentry on duty. Turns out it's a Customs and Border Protection expedited entry program like the TSA's Global Entry, and neither my friends nor I had it. We got diverted to the special inspection area (they took my apple!) and told that if we ever go through that line incorrectly again we'd be subject to a $5,000 fine.
After reading this post and my previous one about the Baja trip, I think you'll agree that I got a pretty good representation of the stereotypical Baja experience!
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