Wahhooooeeee!! My copilot screamed as the tires lifted off the ground and 12 inches of clear, warm air came between our tires and terra firma. Gravity quickly won over our short-lived moment oflevitation, narrowing the void between us and the sandy desert two-track. The front tires touched down-low air pressure and soft sidewalls absorbing the initial impact before assigning their burden to a pair of Donahoe coilover front shocks. Compressing to the bumpstops, our 33-inch Pro Comp XTerrains sucked up the residual force, flattening like a couple of inverted mushrooms. The rear followed suit, absorbing its share of the load before responding with enough force to send us back into the air for another round.
This was Baja, Mexico, the kind of place that draws one back, year after year: a destination you don't really need a reason to visit. Temperate weather, endless unfenced two-tracks, isolated fishing villages, and plentiful cerveza fria (cold beer); it's all there.
However, we did have a purpose. We were there to test our Two Week Taco, subject of last month's Donahoe Racing suspension makeover. We put it through the wringer on Baja's wildest whoop-de-doos, alluring arroyos, and twisting two-tracks, including some hammer-down blasting over parts of the Baja 1000 race course.
While we're not going to race it on the 1000 (although we could), it did awesome. The combination of the coilovers and Pro Comp tires felt right at home on more than 700 miles of Baja abuse. The new Donahoe Plush Ride leaf springs carried our overloaded Tacoma without issue, and our ARB bumper held tight to the frame while fending off numerous comi-cacti, boulders, and harsh landings.
On our first morning in Baja the sun crept over the Sea of Cortez, radiating a golden swathe of light across an uninhabited sand beach, rousting us from out tents to witness the birth of a new day. Bare feet wriggling in the sand, we were beginning to settle into maana mode: Maana mode is a mental condition of mind and space: One in which meetings, deadlines, and commitments of northern latitudes fade into distant memories.
Discovered in the late 1700s and isolated by land and sea, the remote fishing village of San Felipe was almost completely cut off from the western world until the installation of a U.S. radar facility during WWII. Today, San Felipe plays host to dozens of Baja 250, 500, and 1000 races and is a Mecca for sunworshiping co-eds from the States. Retaining its old-world charm, the small cantinas, seafood restaurants, and taco stands line San Felipe's seafront boardwalk. San Felipe is also the last place to stock up on necessities: fuel, fresh tortillas, tequila, and cold cerveza.
The Baja Peninsula stretches roughly 900 miles south from the U.S. border near San Diego. Slicing through the Pacific Ocean to create the Sea of Cortez, it averages a mere 70 miles in width. Along the route from Puertocitas to Bahia San Luis Gonzaga we visited this abandoned abode sitting high above the water's edge. Numerous islands, coated white from eons of nesting gulls, profile the cobalt blue waters of the Sea of Cortez.