They sleep so soundly before the day's onslaught of rage and fury. 

The bikes lined up at sun-up at the Old Mill. Daybreak, day two. 

Along the beach, morning of day two. This was Adam's first beach riding experience. 

A group of riders enjoys the beach. It wasn't too cold this year along this section. We enjoyed exceptional weather the entire way down to Cabo. 

Adam got his first lessons in sand riding along this section. He picked up the basics pretty quickly: a) speed is good b) the answer to all problems is in your right hand.

Some of the deep sand beach road on the morning of day two. Adam and I fell in the exact same spot. Phil said he'd seen about eight people go down in the same corner, an awkward right-hander. 

The first of many times that wherever I went, Phil was always there first. I'm sure his middle name is Kilroy. The mosquitoes were so bad here that they gave up the chase of the mechanical problem they were investigating and escaped to a less infested place. 

Wayne filling my DR at the first gas stop of day two. 

First gas stop, day two. 

Adam in the Aloe Vera forest. He'd never seen the full grown plant in the wild, although he'd been around the house plant variety all of his life. 

We rode through miles of cactus forest on the trip, including some species that only grow in small sections of Baja. 

There was a freshly dead horse in the water hole, with vultures starting to feast. Unless you stopped along this trail and looked back down, you had no idea it was there. A group of riders stopped for a picture down in the valley. The guy taking the shot walked within 50' of the water hole and the horse and never knew it was there. 

The entrance to the hero loop, day two. This was another point where Adam was in the "please God, just get me to the pavement" mode. I was hoping that he would ride himself into shape by day 3 or so. We skipped this section, renowned for its deep sand, and rode the 25 miles or so out to the road. 

Gas stop at the pavement.

Typical of the abandoned classic iron around Baja. Much of it is  found in places that you can't imagine how they ever got a car back into. This fine example is behind the hotel at Catavina. 

A worthy and noble motto. 

We drew the short straws for the Gulag hotel on this night, but nonetheless spent the afternoon catching some rays by the pool of the primary hotel with Dave and others.

Dinner on the patio, Day Two. 

Malcolm reminding us of the dangers of passing people in the dust. 

Adam in the Gulag master suite. 16 others did hard time there with us. We'll be forever bonded. 

View of the bathroom. The showerhead spread water evenly everywhere in the bathroom except in the area directly beneath it. 

Adam holding up our illumination source after the electricity went off at 9:30. If you didn't have a match, you were left to your best aim by starlight.