Valle de los Cirios, Mexico
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We found ourselves a place to camp a couple km off the main highway in the middle of Valley de los Cirios. A desert in central Baja, the Valley is one of only a handful places on the planet that the Cardón cactus grows. We camped at the foot of a small extinct volcano underneath a proud cacti that had grown over 50 feet from the desert floor. From the top, our Land Cruiser looked like a Micro Machine. As the stars began to light up the night sky, we were reminded as to just how small we really are. Free all of light pollution, the Milky Way stretched proudly across the sky and we were treated to an unconventional array of shooting stars. All the hustle and bustle of the trip simply melted away and in a much need moment of serenity, we felt truly connected to the present moment.
The sun rose over the mountains to our east and it only took a mere 15 minutes for our tent to become unbearably hot to continue sleeping. Refreshed, relaxed, and ready for a new day we exited and packed up our penthouse suite of a root-top tent to cook breakfast and re-organize the rig.
Chris acted as head chef for the morning. The stove was lit, the coffee boiling, the eggs and tortillas nearing completion. I took over the re-organization of the rig. The duffle bags removed, the jack, shovel, traction bars, tools, and various leisure sports all on the ground. With the truck empty, I began to survey what we had laying on the ground and comparing that to the space we had in the truck. The daily game of Tetris was about to begin, attempting to pack as efficiently as possibly.
“Coffee’s ready!” I take that much anticipated first sip...always to early, I spit out as much as I can while remember that water boils much hotter at sea level. Breakfast goes down quick, a fairly standard plate of tortillas, refried beans and eggs. While we sit, waiting for the coffee to cool we notice the bugs are beginning to awake from their nightly slumber. A couple bees buzz around our heads, apparently interested in our messy Coleman stove. I ask Chris his thoughts on some new packing arrangements for our gear, a few more bees buzz about.
I begin packing the empty truck, while Chris begins to put away the stove and kitchen items. He quickly invites me over to check out these five bees on the tailgate. We had thought they were interested in our messy stove, but in fact they had found something curious about the carpet of the truck. We had learned that bees are fond of spilled beer, and plenty of beer has been spilled on that carpet. We give it no real attention and go about packing up the rig. The kitchen packed and put away, Chris begins to help me pack the passenger seats of the truck. Five minutes later, we return to the tailgate to stack our coolers in, and close up the truck. At least that’s what we thought we were going to do.
In the few minutes that we left the tailgate unattended, our five bees turned to fifty. All of them intently interested in the carpet of our truck. They had moved on from just the tailgate and had wandered onto the brand new interior carpet we had covered our shelf with. Heads buried, these bees had found something that they liked...and they were keen to make it theirs. We began our impromptu bee removal by taking a plastic lid and brushing them out. It did not work, and more bees began to show up. For every three we got off the carpet, thirty more showed up. The new arrivals began searching for new areas and now the front seats began to play host to the ever growing local bee population. A quick look at our coffee showed that multiple bees had already fallen victim to the smooth sides of the steel cup and were floating in our cups.
“Smoke! Bees hate smoke!” Of course! Every avid nature documentary watcher knows this. A quick inventory of burnable items in our possession revealed only one item we could do without...egg cartons. We divvied up the cartons and began multiple small burns, letting them burn to a reasonable size and blowing them out. It created an incense type burn...perfect. It worked better than I would have thought, but not nearly as well as I had hoped. A combination of smoke and plastic lids helped remove some, but we were clearly fighting an uphill battle. The fifty bees were were dealing with initially had communicated their find. Fifty became one hundred. One hundred became two hundred. Two hundred became four hundred. Despite the morning heat, we put our rain jackets on and zipped them all the way up as we prepared for the escalating attack and the increasingly difficult task of removing these bees.
“Move the truck! The hive must be right near here!” Of course! That’ll work! Chris drives the truck a few hundred feet away, leaving a pile of our gear behind. We had bought ourselves a few minutes until the hive figures out the trick we pulled. In a mad dash, we grab a pile of stuff and run back to the truck. We left the egg cartons smoldering on the bumper. Quickly open of the rear hatch, toss in whatever you grabbed. Take the egg cartons and motivate the five or so bees that made it in to go back outside. Close the hatch and repeat. Cue the bad English comedy music. We were both wildly running around back and forth, Every other trip, one of us would drop what they had, and run in circles trying to get away from the bees that took a more aggressive approach to our retreat.
This went on for twenty minutes without a word to each other. We had not removed all the bees, we knew this. We haphazardly threw the last of our gear into the truck, and moved for the front seats. A few more bees up front to remove and we jump in and close the doors. “Goddammit!” As Chris sat down, one bee stung him in the calf. Bees-1 Humans-0. We hit the road, knowing that we had lost the battle, but overall considered the retreat a success. Our attempt to organize had failed. All of our stuff was in a huge pile in the back, full of bees for us to deal with later. The road was calling, and after that ordeal, driving seemed only a minor nuisance.