Ranchos, mountains, and coastline make up the bulk of Baja California Sur. The languid cattle or skittish chickens are what one most commonly sees when one is driving along the dirt roads, but if you take what might look like a short cut or a fun exploration route, you are most likely driving on someone’s driveway and will find a ranchero’s home at the end of it. I was keen to do some off-road exploring, particularly through the arroyos, but a car would not make it through and walking seemed too inefficient.  We were told by our neighbors (the only family that comes to vacation at their beach house exclusively in the summer time) two houses down from Villa del Faro that the family who delivers the water has a mule that they let people ride. As we talked more about the possibility of riding their mule up the arroyo, I learned that it was not a typical offer the family made to strangers, so that meant we were going to have to get introduced.

Manuel, the head of the family, is a humble ranchero with flecks of graying hair and a fatherly demeanor.  He and his son, Ismael, a tall, jovial man, were quick to make Seth and I feel like extended family after we introduced ourselves as friends of the owners of Villa del Faro and of the Simpsons (the neighbors). Since we stopped by without previous announcement, we returned later that day to give them time to round up their horses roaming around lose in the fields and prepare them for riding.

There was a mule and a horse saddled up in the front pasture area under a tree when we returned to Manuel’s home in the late afternoon. Ismael and another one of his family guided the horses out to the road next to the arroyo, and helped us get on our horses Rolex and Pedrón. As soon as I adjusted myself on the saddle and gripped the reins, I saw Seth and Pedrón zip by me and of course, Rolex instinctively started to gallop behind them. Our hats flew off and our bags bounced wildly on our backs as we pulled on the reins to slow down the horses. We managed to settle down the horses and turned back to grab our things; Manuel and others looked slightly disconcerted. After reassuring him that we could handle the horses on our own and that the horses were simply testing us to make sure we were respectable riders, he chuckled and let us go on our way.

We started by wandering through small cattle paths along the edge of the arroyo but since we did not see much wildlife, we decided to go climb up to the parallel hillside. There was no clear path up, but that did not dissuade us from creating our own trail. For twenty minutes we brushed, scrapped, and twisted our way through dense underbrush of bare branches. I guided Rolex through the least threatening underbrush I could find, which meant avoiding cacti or thorny branches, however, that did not prevent me from getting several scratches on my arms and thorns from getting stuck on my jeans (fortunately, the thorns did not go through the jeans and prick me). After a brief interlude where we debated going back, the horses heaved up to the top of the hill and found a dirt road. I let out a profound sigh of relief (I almost screamed ‘Yeeeeehaaaa’ but I felt that would’ve been ‘over the top,’ figuratively).

We rode easily back home, happy to be liberated from the poking and smacking of rough plant life. Once at Manuel’s ranch, Seth and I shared our experience with the family members and showed my battle scars as proof. I felt quite tough, like a ranchera. However, I didn’t share that thought because in truth, I know I am a long ways from being a true ranchera (Andale!).