Alright, so I’ve been hearing about the Baja 1000 for years, this insane off-road race down in Mexico. It sounded brutal, legendary, and completely out of my league. But, you know, that little voice in your head… So, I decided, “Screw it, let’s do this!”
First thing, I needed a vehicle. I didn’t have a fancy trophy truck, or, like, any experience. So I scoured online, found this beat-up old Ford Bronco. Thing looked like it had already run the Baja a few times, and lost. But it ran, kinda, and that was good enough for me.
Next, I spent weeks, maybe months, just wrenching on that Bronco. Replaced the shocks, like, five times. Beefed up the suspension, learned to weld (badly), and basically tried to make sure the thing wouldn’t fall apart at the first bump. My garage looked like a bomb went off, tools everywhere, parts scattered… pure chaos.
The Prep
- Got the Bronco.
- Rebuilt half of it.
- Figured out how to use a map… seriously.
Then came the logistics. Holy smokes, I had no idea. Finding co-drivers who were as crazy as me, figuring out fuel stops, spare parts, chase trucks…it’s a whole operation. It felt like I was planning a small military campaign, not a race.
The race itself? A blur. Dust, rocks, more dust. We got stuck, like, a lot. We broke stuff. We fixed stuff with duct tape and prayers. At one point, I’m pretty sure we drove through a river. My co-driver and I were yelling at each other, laughing, and probably crying a little, all at the same time.
There were moments, I’m not gonna lie, where I thought, “What am I doing?” We were in the middle of nowhere, it was pitch black, and the Bronco was making noises I’d never heard before. But we kept going. Pushed it, pushed ourselves.
We didn’t win, not even close. But we finished. And crossing that finish line, covered in dirt, exhausted, and completely delirious, it was…amazing. Would I do it again? Maybe. Ask me after I’ve had a shower and, like, a week of sleep.
I will defintely try again next time.
