We spend more time in Yuma than we intend to. A box of bike parts ordered from a local shop is being taken everywhere in town except where it needs to go by a rogue delivery driver.
Yuma is a challenge to navigate by bike. We ride irrigation canals and back roads trying to avoid traffic. We see fields of lettuce and groves of citrus trees. We eat fresh dates. Buses of migrant workers pick produce.
The box of parts arrives at the shop and Sam swaps tires out in record time. He sets us up with a place to stay nearby for one more night. In the morning, we’re Baja bound.
A visa, a passport stamp and we’re across the border.
The language and culture changes, but the landscape doesn’t. Small town America is struggling. In Mexico, it’s alive and well. Where shops and restaurants were boarded up in the US, here they are open for business. The desert in northern Baja looks much like the desert in southern Arizona.
Roadside produce provides us with extra liquids.
We tuck ourselves into a spot in some foothills to sleep and watch the sunset.