The Online Magazine for Traveling & Living in Baja
New Stories - Subscribe for FREE - Advertise - Contact
“Cuesta del Infierno” – Driving Baja's Slope to Hell
Baja Is for Everyone Essay Entry
by Cherlyn Gatto
We had spent an entire year in language school down in southern Texas just to get enough Spanish under our belts for our new life in La Paz, Mexico. We packed our van and travel trailer to the hilt, stuffed in our dog and 5 children and set out for the border. We had never driven down the peninsula, but we were excited for the grand adventure ahead. A green light in Tijuana and we were off!
Our first stop was a little campground outside of San Quintin. It was not quite what we had expected, but fabulous nonetheless. It was quiet, secluded; way off the beaten path. The hosts had a small restaurant boosting of a world famous shrimp creole. Bravely, that was our first meal south of the border. We spent the evening gathering sand dollars on a deserted beach and watching the sun set across the Pacific.
In the morning as we packed to head off, we met two other gentlemen, veterans to Baja travel who had slept in the back of their pick-up truck, made coffee over a fire and were also heading out that morning. In conversation, they asked if we had ever driven all the way down Highway 1. They explained that at one point, right before reaching the Sea of Cortez, we would drive into the “Grand Canyon.” “Oh, it’s that steep, huh?” we questioned. “Yep. But don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”
Our drive was beautiful. Once I got over the missing shoulders and guard rails and the occasional cow in the road, I gave myself a chance to just relax and take it all in. The landscape was breathtaking. After several hours, I began to play around with my Spanish on the road signs and made a game out of seeing how many I could figure out. “No Tira Basura” (Don’t throw garbage). That one was pretty easy. “Disminuya su Velocidad” (Decrease your speed). Okay, I’m getting these.
We crested the top of a mountain and began to descend. Wow, it was pretty steep. A little more challenging carrying everything we owned. But, we glided down without a hitch. “What were they thinking,” I thought to myself. “Obviously those men have NEVER been to the Grand Canyon. That was nothing.”
Later that afternoon, I started seeing some signs I hadn’t practiced before. “Cuesta del Infierno.” Hmmm. I wondered what that meant. “Honey, doesn’t ‘cuesta’ mean to count or something?” I asked my husband and then answered my own question, “Oh no, I think that’s ‘cuenta’.” I grabbed my pocket dictionary off the dashboard for some help and looked up the first word. “Oh! It means ‘slope’, honey. ‘Cuenta’ means slope.” We knew ‘del’ meant ‘of’, so I began to look up the next word, “infierno,” remembering that it had something to do with fire. Just as we reached the top of the hill and looked down, I yelled out, “Honey, ‘infierno’ means hell! This is the Slope of Hell!”
Grand Canyon! Pretty close! I held on tight and prayed! “Please, Lord, don’t let the breaks go out now!” About half way down my five kids, bouncing in the back, with no care that we were facing imminent death, called out, “Mom! Can you make us some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?” “NO!” Maybe I was a little harsh at the moment, but it did stress me just a little bit more. My clenched hands were going numb and my eyes were shut tight. Slowly we inched closer and closer to the bottom. Well, we made it safely down, gave our smoking brakes a little rest and, thanking God for His hand on our lives, fed the children.
Now, this is not to scare any would-be travelers from their own adventures. The Baja holds a wondrous beauty all its own. We’ve made the trip many times since and conquered the big beast without fear. It really isn’t quite as bad to us now, though we’ve never done it again quite so overloaded. And, the best news of all… they’ve put in guard rails!
Happy Traveling!