Racing the Devil Horse: A Baja Adventure with Caballo del Diablo

Saddling up on Caballo deL Diablo in the wilds of Baja

A tornado of dust swirled over the hood as we came to a stop next to an old Ford Bronco with its hood up. A large decal on the door read “Caballo del Diablo,” encircling the number 26, and another decal under the spare tire read “SLAGIATT?” The driver, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a beer in hand, looked into the engine bay and shook his head. “Everything okay?” He looked at us with a ‘What do you think…moron?’ expression, “Don’t know, stopped running.” My friend Jim Harris (aka Uncle Willy), a genuinely good guy but a cantankerous old fart at times, replied, “What’s the problem?” Another stink eye glare, another reply: “Don’t know, stopped running.” He was obviously not a mechanic. Uncle Willy withheld his typical condescending smartass comment and instead offered to take a look.

It was the first morning of a four-day desert race through the wilds of the Baja peninsula, and this guy was off to a bumpy start. After introductions, we learned that Boyd Jaynes had built Caballo del Diablo with the sole intent of entering his first off-road race, the 2010 NORRA Mexican 1000. The moniker, which translates to Horse of the Devil in Spanish, was developed during desert testing, when he quickly learned that driving an unruly Bronco off road is like riding a horse possessed by the Devil. Uncle Willy fiddled with the coil wires, checked electrical contacts, and within a few minutes Boyd fired up the engine, said thanks, and disappeared in another tornado of dust.

Flash forward to the 2016 NORRA, and the Devil Horse was parked directly in front of me in a long line of race vehicles waiting for an accident to be cleared from the track. I was navigating for the legendary Rod Hall, Overall Winner of the 1969 Mexican 1000, in his `69 Bronco, and Boyd was our prime adversary. The Devil Horse came in nearly dead last in its first NORRA and landed a DNF (Did Not Finish) on the next. However, Boyd heeded the tough lessons and enlisted the help of Brian Godfrey, marketing director of Method Wheels, as his new co-driver and partner. The duo returned to capture three class wins in the following four years. But on this day, he and his navigator were laying under the rig desperately trying to repair the starter. They had a 30-minute lead over us, and if the track opened before Devil Horse was breathing, we would regain valuable time. Nowhere is the adage ‘Better lucky than good’ more applicable than when racing Baja. But luck smiled upon Boyd – they were stowing their tools as the track reopened, and we had to accept the second rung on the podium.

Spin the clock again to 2023 and Caballo del Diablo is rattling the fillings out of my teeth. They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? After reporting on NORRA as a journalist for 13 years, as well as racing and chasing, I always look for an interesting story. Maybe a vehicle with pedigree, maybe a team with a noteworthy backstory, but this year it was the team that beat Rod and me to the checkered flag…twice! I called Boyd (we’ve become good friends) and asked if I could tag along.

Insights to the Past

Baja, or lower California, has long been deemed Mexico’s frontier state, and for good reason. This thin sliver of land that forms the Gulf of California defeated Hernán Cortez and his conquistadors in the 1530s and demanded a heavy toll from the Catholic missionaries of the 18th century. Isolated from mainland Mexico, it contains 800 miles of rugged mountains, endless expanses of arid desert, and dense cacti forests laced with rattlesnakes and scorpions. The Automobile Club of Southern California began mapping the peninsula in the 1920s, but by 1960 less than 150 miles of Mex 1, the single vehicle artery connecting Los Cabos to the U.S. border, was paved. The rest remained “La Frontera.”

This provided the perfect venue for motorcycle racers Dave Ekins and Bill Robertson Jr. to help American Honda demonstrate its new 250cc CL-72 with a timed run from Tijuana to La Paz. The line, and a new record, had been inscribed in the sand and others would soon follow: Bill Stroppe and Chevy in 1963, Dave and Bud Ekins again in 1966 riding Triumphs, Bruce Meyers and Ted Mangles in April of 1967 in a Manx buggy, and Spencer Murray and Ralph Poole that July in an AMC Rambler.

That same month a group of soon-to-be industry luminaries met to discuss forming an official organization and promoting a sanctioned event in the Baja. Led by Ed Pearlman, the National Off-Road Racing Association (NORRA) was created, and their first race was scheduled. On November 1st, 68 motorcycles and vehicles gathered in Tijuana’s bull-fighting arena. In attendance were VW bugs and buggies, Kaiser Jeeps and AMC Ramblers, Ford Rancheros and Broncos, and top hats and tuxedoes. There were four classes, five checkpoints, no defined track, and fewer rules. The aim was simple: get to La Paz as fast as you can and send a telegraph to confirm your time.

The fledgling event was a huge success, and caught the eye of Hollywood stars, Indy 500 champions, and ABC Television. Their Wide World of Sports coverage in 1968, produced by celebrated filmmaker Bruce Brown, went viral (for the day) and established the NORRA Mexican 1000 as the world’s premier off-road endurance race. Behind-the-scenes politics led to NORRA’s demise in 1973, but the following year Mickey Thompson’s SCORE International picked up the baton. The SCORE Baja 1000 continues to this day, but in 2009 Pearlman’s son Mike came up with the idea of resurrecting NORRA.

Rather than a non-stop blast to La Paz featuring deep-pocket teams and 1,000hp trophy trucks, the new Mexican 1000 would be for the average guy or gal, a four-day event focused on vintage vehicles and lore of old-school Baja racing. Known as The Happiest Race on Earth, it is designed for the independent, low-budget adventure seeker with dust-filled dreams. Bronco aficionados have come out of the woodwork, restoring original racecars from the 60s, 70s, and 80s, or building a barn find from scratch.

Race Time

Boyd, an accomplished auto journalist and photographer, is one of those budget-minded independents. Although he gets support from Yokohama Tires, Method Racing Wheels, Fox Shocks, and BlackVue Dash Cameras, he cuts costs with an all-volunteer chase team, cooking meals on a Coleman stove rather than dining out, and by sharing Airbnb houses with fellow Bronco devotee Chris Greenwood. Hanging out with these guys was a blast from the past. Caballo del Diablo exudes badness from every angle, and Greenwood’s Big Oly tribute Bronco brought us back to the early `70s when Parnelli Jones piloted the original Big Oly. The duo lined up at the green flag each morning, ran like wild mustangs all day, and rested each night in a new corral. Akin to taking care of a thoroughbred racehorse, they would receive a full examination and cleaning, checking fluids, suspension, frame, and steering.

While simply finishing a 1,200-mile desert race is a huge accomplishment, winning requires a delicate blend of going fast, but not so fast you damage the car. An old saying goes like this, “You can run at 100 percent of your ability for 10 percent of the time, but you can run at 80 percent all day.” If you choose the former you will eventually run out of talent, break the car, and probably find your face in the dirt.

Boyd seems to have mastered this balancing act, claiming a 1st in Class in nine of his thirteen Mexican 1000s along with six Pioneer Era ‘Steve McQueen’ trophies. I asked him about the special sauce, his recipe for success. He said, “She’s a handful, I drive 20 feet at a time, that’s how you have to drive this Bronco.” The fact that the Devil Horse has a 92-inch wheelbase, Currie-built axles and rear Detroit Locker, and 347 Stroker V8 under the hood, is a recipe for squirrely.

After watching and competing against Boyd for more than a decade, I wanted to experience Caballo del Diablo’s fury and talked Ryan Blaire out of his navigator seat. Climbing in with a brain bucket on my head and roadbook in-hand, I connected the Parker Pumper and intercom and buckled into the five-point harness. Waiting at the starting line I asked Boyd how much information he wanted. “Keep the GPS on .2-mile scale, give me a heads up on roadbook hazards, watch for speed zones, keep an eye on the gauges, and be calm.” Off the track Boyd is a wannabe comedian, always cracking wiseass jokes or pulling a hoax on teammates, but when he gets behind the wheel it’s game-on.

The morning’s route was over the Sierra de la Giganta (giant mountain range), past Misión San Javier, and down a serpentine canyon toward the Pacific Ocean. From the factory the `68 Bronco was not known for a cushy ride, but when you add a 10-leaf Deaver spring pack and heavy-duty Fox shocks? You better hold on to your dentures. Boyd’s driving style is to stay calm and not make mistakes, but if driving like a possessed banshee is his definition of calm, I don’t want to experience a bad-hair hangover day. He pushed the Devil Horse across boulder-strewn riverbeds at twice the speed I might have gone, blasting out the other side and shutting her down for a hard drift to set up for the next one. I’ve been left seat with racing legends Mark McMillin, Bruce Meyers, and Rod Hall, but this required an entirely different level of focus. I unbuckled at the pitstop, and Ryan jumped back in. “How was it?” he asked with a wide grin. I replied, “Damn, she’s a handful,” and cautioned him that I might have left a few fillings on the floor.

Although we had been leading our class and several other teams had dropped to the wayside, the week was not without challenges, including a radiator issue, a cracked motor mount, and a broken leaf spring, most of which were discovered during the nightly inspection and repaired. Greenwood’s team had their share as well, ripping a spring hanger from the frame and a few other SNAFUs. But Baja can be a brutal place, and when you push the envelope, stuff happens. Our crack mechanic Jose Arzate crawled underneath and burned a few parking lot welds to get them back on the track—one of the benefits of running with mechanically inclined Bronco buddies.

The Wrap

During my 2010 introduction to the Devil Horse, I took a picture of the SLAGIATT decal. When I queried Boyd he laughed and said, “This racing thing Sounded Like A Good Idea At The Time…SLAGIATT.” Must have been one of those late-night booze-induced dares. Whatever the case, it seems to have worked out. As one of only two drivers to compete in every Mexican 1000 since NORRA’s revival, team Caballo del Diablo has developed quite the fan base. Local kids run up to grab selfies, the Baja Sur Bronco Club awaits in La Paz every year to greet the champ, and Boyd is routinely lassoed by the media for interviews. They represent authentic grass-roots racing, and people love it.

But if we look back to 1967 and that fledgling Mexican 1000, we are reminded that the Ford Bronco is one of the elite OGs of Baja. Greats such as Bill Stroppe, Parnelli Jones, Rod Hall, and Larry Minor, as well as Hollywood star James Garner have challenged Baja in Ford’s stallion of the desert. With more than a dozen Broncos entering this year, that tradition is alive and, as Broncos will do, kicking.

By the final stretch to San Jose del Cabo we had a nine-hour lead over our closest competitor and only needed to find the checkered flag to claim the top rung on the podium. Caballo del Diablo leaped up on the finish line stage, the boys jumped on the roof, and proceeded to bathe the crowd with their traditional offering of well-shaken champagne. Greenwood also claimed 1st in the Legend 4×4 Class. A few days later Caballo del Diablo and Big Oly were loaded on trailers and heading for the barn. All was right with the world…SLAGIATT.

Caballo del Diablo

Platform: 1968 Ford Bronco
Engine: Ford Performance X347 Stroker V8
Engine mods: Edelbrock intake, Holly carburetor and dual fuel pumps, MDS distributor, CBR aluminum radiator, James Duff headers, Magnaflow mufflers, Odyssey Batteries, MILSPEC wiring by Finishline Automotive
Transmission: Culhane C4, TCS torque converter
Transfer case: Dana 20, Advanced Adapters adapter
Axles: Front Currie Dana 44, rear Currie Ford 9-inch, Tru-Trac and Detroit differentials
Brakes: Wilwood 4-piston
Suspension: Deaver springs, Fox remote reservoir shocks
Tires/wheels: Yokohama 33/12.5R15 Geolandar MT, Method 304 15×8 rims
Steering: AGR box, PSC pump, FK Heim joints/rod ends/links
Fuel cell: Jaz 32-gallon
Safety: Mastercraft Safety seats, Impact harnesses
Auxiliary lighting: Rigid
Navigation/comms: Lowrance Baja 540, LeadNav GPS tracking system, PCI Radio intercom
Camera system: BlackVue 970X multi-channel 

Big Oly Tribute

Platform: 1972 Ford Bronco
Engine: Ford 408 Stroker V8
Transmission: C4 3-speed automatic
Transfer case: Dana 20
Axles: Dana 44 front, Quick Performance 9-inch rear
Suspension: Wild Horses front coils, Alcan rear leafs, Fox 2-inch remote reservoir shocks
Tires/wheels: BFGoodrich 35-inch KM3, Method MR301 wheels
Steering: Custom factory Ford box
Fuel cell: ATL 32-gallon
Safety: Mastercraft Safety seats and harnesses
Auxiliary lighting: Baja Designs and Rigid