Baja Beginnings: My Wild 1952 Mexican Adventure

I was eight years old when my father bought a 1952 VW, T1 split windscreen, Westfalia camper van. His drinking buddies, Ed Damvanavitch and Bill Gilliam (I may be off a little on the spelling of their names, I was only eight) were the usual passengers. Having an icebox to keep the beer cold was the prime attraction for his choice of transportation and discussion.

I was never sure just why they took me along. Looking back at it now, probably because of Mom not complaining if they took me. In those days, before freeways, it was a long drive from Compton to the San Ysidro border crossing, especially with only a 40 horsepower engine. Once in Tijuana, the ice box was refilled. The road to Ensenada over the mountains was all gravel and rough.

Once in Ensenada our first stop was Hussongs Cantina Est. 1892. After 6 hours on the road, they needed refreshment. I was not allowed to leave the van except to pee in the outhouse behind the bar. Dad would bring me tacos and cold coconut juice. Late in the evening, we’d stop at a motel and I would sleep in the van while their party continued.

In the morning we would head south for a few hours and I’d listen to the funny stories they told about last night. I still remember the one about Ed making a bet he could pick up the bars piano by one leg and winning. Bill was an ex-cowboy…