We planned to stay on our big sandy beach on Guadalupe Bay for a layover day, so everyone stayed in their tents late. When I got up I asked Penny for advice on how to find different kinds of shellfish in the water. The sandy beach was littered with lots of shells and I figured a snorkel dive would show me the environment that all these animals lived in. When I got into the water, however, I found a few dead sand pesos but no living shellfish! The bottom alternated between bare sand and acres of sea lettuce. There certainly seems to be a good foundation for life here. I swam farther and farther from shore until I was diving in seven meters of water. I had my rock weight belt on and it did a good job of holding me neutral at that depth. Another advantage I discovered to a rock belt is you can jettison the rocks before you get back to shore and save the energy of carrying a heavy belt back up onto the beach!
I saw lots of jellyfish near the surface, some interesting yellow sponges on the infrequent bottom rocks and a few guitar fish trying to hide in the sand, but no shellfish. Lots of the shells on and behind the beach are in large midden piles, and there are the ruins of a fishing camp nearby. I have heard that the reason shellfish are not allowed on my sport fishing license is because the locals have fished them into near extinction. The shells on the beach did look rather old and sun bleached, so perhaps that is what happened here.
I emerged from the sea in time to have lunch with everyone else. It was a windy day so I tried flying my parafoil kite to fool the wind gods into stopping. I managed to get the kite to fly for a few minutes a few times and the wind did die down and stalled my kite. It never became dead calm, however, so I decided not to go fishing in the afternoon.
Instead I got out my boots, socks, and a T-shirt and went for a hike/climb in the desert. Behind our campsite the dunes ended and the desert land was almost flat but for a little volcano sticking up out of the plain nearby. This peak, Caleta Colorado De Guadalupe, was only a half a kilometer away and only 100 meters tall. I set off to walk around it and scope out the best route to the peak. I went up a saddle on the east side and up to the top of a small hill. Someone had been there in 1975 and scratched the date on a flat rock. I added my date to it. I went back to the saddle and started around the main peak. It seemed a shame to go down the other side so I just went around a contour. Whenever I came to an obstacle I always chose the higher route around until I soon found myself half way to the peak. So when I came to a shallow sloping area I went straight up a gully to the ridge and along that to the peak.
The whole “mountain” was made out of a pile of glassy stone that looked like broken pieces of terra-cotta pottery. The edges, however, were not sharp and looked like they had been sand blasted smooth by the wind. It was easy to walk on because it didn’t slide or roll against itself. It was not a technical climb and I could have made it to the top with my hands in my pockets after I found the right approach.
On the peak there are a few piles of rocks and arranged patterns of light rocks in dark areas. But no names or dates scratched in the rocks and no logbook to sign. I found a small flat rock and scratched “MH APR 1998” onto it. I added this rock to an existing pattern: A triangle with a lower case “h” inside it. My flat rock fit between the legs of the “h”. According to the maps this mountain had a benchmark, and it took me a while to find where it was planted.. It was made of aluminum instead of brass and was set in a brand new patch of concrete. I think this benchmark was recently replaced.
I hiked across the ridges to a few smaller peaks, hoping there would be an even easier place to descend. I worked my way down to the west side of the hill and took a long shallow route down to the dessert floor again on the opposite side from whereI started up. There was a dry wash running around the base of the mountain and I marched back on this to avoid thorny plants, stinging insects, and biting snakes. Almost on cue, I saw a rattlesnake crossing the wash in front of me. I saw it in plenty of time to stop and watch from a safe distance. I had to get closer, of course, for a better look. When I was about three meters away the rattler stopped, looked at me, shook the rattle just once and continued on. I walked around behind it (keeping my distance) to get the sun at my back and get a really good look at the beautiful scales through my binoculars. This got me another look and another single shake of the tail. Then we both went our separate ways unmolested.
I got back to camp only an hour and a half after I left, in time for happy hour. Before the trip it had been suggested that everyone bring some favorite ethanol-based-beverage. Rum was suggested and we could buy it inexpensively in Mexico. Also available in Mexico are different flavors of Tang (the breakfast drink that went to the chronosynclastic infundibulum). In the USA, Tang only comes in one flavor, orange. But in Mexico you can get mango, hibiscus, and a bunch of other flavors. Mango was suggested as the best flavor to make rum mixers with, so several of us bought Tang and a liter of rum to take on the trip. Almost every evening someone would mix up a liter of tang and spike it with rum. Once the rum has been added, the name changes from mango Tang to “mango tango”. Someone donated their bottle of rum to the happy hour project, and every time the bottle ran low someone else would add their liter to it. As a result, the “magic bottle of rum” never ran dry the whole trip. When it started to run low, we started joking that it must be time for the trip to be over.
