Today, I left Ensenada and made my way to Tecate. The ride in was marked by a surprising amount of moisture in the air. Not quite rain, but the heaviest mist I’ve experienced so far in Baja. The road glistened in patches, a reminder to stay cautious, especially after my spill at the water crossing back in Loreto. I kept my pace steady, not in a hurry to repeat that mistake.
I ended my nearly month-long trip the same way it began, by crossing back into the U.S. at Tecate. The border crossing here was a breeze. I broke Wilbur out of his pen, took the advice of locals on Reddit, and cut in line through a gap meant for motorcyclists. Door to door, I was back in ’Murica in just 15 minutes!
Last March, on my 38th birthday, I was laid off from work.
I wish I felt bitter. I wish I was angry that I was let go, or sad that I was forced to leave. At least then my emotions would fit with how I imagined I should feel. Yet, I felt none of that. Rather, that morning, I witnessed a tremendous weight lifted from off my shoulders. For years, I had grown increasingly restless with my current circumstances. I attempted to distract myself or to focus my attention elsewhere, but to no avail. Suddenly, however, I found myself with an abundance of time and an excuse to do almost anything. I was eager to make the most out of this opportunity.
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