A view of some of the incredible wildflowers along the trail. In sections, the entire desert was in bloom. 

On the trail out to the undiscovered country of the West coast. This was the first time the MSA Baja route had  ventured through this very remote loop. Incredible scenery along the way. 

Along the beach of the West coast. We rode for miles where the water was blood red in the surf. 

Adam coming up out of the silt beds off the beach. There was an incredible rock climb up out of the coastal plain. It went on for miles, including sections where you could swear you were on another planet. 

One of many flats along the way. 

Find the ribbons. Pink ribbons were your best friend when you were out in nowhere, desperate for any sign that you were still on the right trail. Upon seeing them, everyone uttered the same words of relief and gratitude: "Thank You, Jimmy."

When I finally reached the gas truck, after blowing a corner and losing about an hour, I found I was still in time to take an optional trip to a Mission church ruin that was being restored. 

Great ride into the mission. The valley is guarded with high buttes and plateaus. It reminded me of monument valley in the US. On the way in we rode by a rancho run by an ex-pat American. He had wind powered generator, wind powered water, etc. Looked like quite a well run place. 

The tour included the chance to go up the spiral stairs to the balcony and the roof. 

View from the roof. 

View from the balcony looking down into the church.

The adobe brick ruins of the first Mission church. 

Three different orders of monks had a presence at the church. This keystone has the seal of two of the first. 

Bob Mueller, support team member, who I had ridden and roomed with the prior two years of the ride. 

Doug and Adam at Bay of LA, end of day three. 

Malcolm working on his bike. This was the last time we'd see him whole. I had an urge to get a shot of him with Adam, wish I'd done so. 

Arnold swapping a front tube. 

Dinner at LA bay. This was the last time on the trip most of us would have unscarred bodies. I'd never seen a mosquito at LA Bay in the two previous years, but this night each room would be infested with hundreds of them. Not very many of us got a good night's sleep or survived without multiple war wounds.