By Jorge R.

This week is classic Baja in four beats. First, the long road to San Juanico and why that wave still earns every mile. Second, we’re opening a friendly Q&A lane for your fideicomiso or title docs, ask anything. Third, Banamex’s shake-up (and how Citi managed to shrink a national icon). Finally, if you need an adrenaline reset, Cabo’s zip lines will do the job, sneakers required.

Subject of the Week

I’ve driven to San Juanico several times, and every trip goes the same way. Halfway through, somewhere between the dust, the silence, and the endless horizon, I start asking myself: why am I doing this again? Then I arrive, and I remember.

San Juanico, better known to surfers as Scorpion Bay, sits on the Pacific side of Baja California Sur, surrounded by desert and ocean. It’s a small, unhurried town famous for a wave that seems to go on forever. The place hit the surf map in the 1970s when Sean Collins, the founder of Surfline, spotted the break while sailing from San Diego to Cabo. What he found was rare: seven right-hand points that can link into rides stretching nearly two kilometers when the swell and wind line up just right. It later gained legendary status after appearing in The Endless Summer (1966), and it still tops many avid surfers’ bucket lists today.

Getting there, though, takes patience. The easiest route is through Ciudad Insurgentes, now fully paved, I’m told. I still need to try that one. The other two, from San Ignacio or Mulegé, are pure Baja: long stretches of dirt, salt flats, sand, and stretches of loose river rock. You’ll want a solid 4x4, good tires, a full tank, and a spare. Don’t drive at night, cattle wander the highways, and Baja isn’t big on guardrails. Bring plenty of water, a few snacks, and a music playlist, you’ll need it.

When you finally roll into town, it’s like stepping into a surfer outpost frozen in time. A handful of taco and burrito stands, a couple of small hotels, and the usual Airbnbs. Solar panels glint on rooftops, and a mix of locals and expats swap surf stories between sets. Power still comes mostly from generators, though that may change soon. Plans are in motion to extend the power grid and pave more roads, good news for comfort, but not everyone is excited. Some locals welcome the convenience; others worry it’ll bring too much attention.

That tension, between access and authenticity, is something Baja knows well. San Juanico has already had to defend its identity. A few years back, the community stopped a U.S. company from mining phosphate off its coast, a project that threatened marine life, fishing, and the surf itself. They won that fight, though the company is still suing Mexico for billions. It’s a reminder that even remote towns need to stay alert.

For now, San Juanico remains what it’s always been: raw, quiet, and worth the effort. The kind of place that reminds you why so many of us came to Baja in the first place, for the space, the stillness, and the feeling of discovery. And that’s what I remember when I arrive.

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We get a steady stream of smart, practical questions, so we’re opening this space as an ongoing Q&A. Ask what you’ve always wondered; we’ll answer in plain English. If a question can help others, we may share a short, version next issue. Prefer anonymous or private? Say so, we’ll keep it between us.

The Road Ahead
Send any fideicomiso or title question, quick curiosity or deep dive, and get a straight, practical answer. If it needs more than an email, we’ll suggest the right next step (our Onsite Analytics review).

Your Question This Week for ILT — Clarity → Action
📩 Email [email protected] (attach your PDF if you have it). We’ll reply directly. We may feature select questions, anonymously, in the next Wake-Up Call so others benefit. If you’d rather keep it private, just tell us.

Two billionaires, Fernando Chico Pardo and Germán Larrea, are now wrestling for control of Banamex, once Mexico’s top bank and now, sadly, its sixth. Citi’s retreat is a case study in how centralized, tone-deaf management can hollow out a national jewel. I saw it up close: ILT used to bank at CitiBanamex. After delays and detached service, we moved.

Chico Pardo’s group is set to acquire 25% (with an IPO on deck); Grupo México wants the whole thing. Either path puts Banamex back in Mexican hands, overdue, and welcome.

Why it matters to you
Service continuity is the question, especially in the almost obsolete fideicomiso division. In my experience, it’s been rigid and slow. If new ownership rebuilds it from the ground up, great. If not, better to steer clear.

Footnote from the past: I’m sharing this piece because I once met Chico Pardo in the late ’80s, when he structured financing for a condo project in Cabo. Sharp, fast, decisive, the kind of financier who made things happen. From that moment on, he’s built an empire of businesses and holdings, becoming one of Mexico’s billionaires. If anyone can bring credibility back to Banamex, it’s him. I know.

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Cabo has a reputation for sunsets and seascapes, but a few miles inland it turns into a high-desert playground built for thrill-seekers. My incredible, awesome experience started at Wild Canyon, home to Mexico’s longest and fastest zip lines, where I found out what it really means to fly.

The day starts simple: safety briefing, harness check, deep breath. The guides, calm and confident, make you feel ready. But that first step off the platform? Nothing prepares you for it. You’re 300 feet above the canyon, staring at a whole lot of air and red desert rock, and then suddenly… you’re gone.

Warm-up lines ease you in, shorter and smoother, just enough to trust the gear and your heartbeat. Then comes the headline ride: over 4,000 feet of steel across a canyon, pushing close to 100 km/h. For about a minute, the world drops away, wind hits your face, and it’s just you and open sky. New personal benchmark.

And the adrenaline doesn’t quit. Across Los Cabos, other parks offer their own flavor of chaos, dual racing lines, Superman-style flights where you go horizontal, suspension bridges that sway under your boots, rappelling walls that make gravity negotiable, and UTV circuits through sand and rock. Different venues, same promise: views you’ll never get from a beach chair.

By the time I unclipped from the last line, dusty, laughing, eyes wide, it was clear this wasn’t a one-off thrill. It’s a reset. Cabo isn’t only about relaxing; it’s about testing limits and remembering how alive you can feel midair.

Quick tips: trade sandals for sneakers, bring water, tie back anything that flaps at 100 km/h, and let the warm-ups build your confidence before the big line.

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Behind every headline, there’s a practical question: what does this mean for my property, my transaction, or my investment? At ILT, that’s where we step in, turning complexity into clarity. Whether it’s translating a fideicomiso, guiding you through KYC, or tracking every peso in a closing, we make sure your decisions rest on solid ground.