Before you dive in — there's a one-tap question waiting at the very bottom. Tell me what you want to see more of; it shapes where this magazine goes.

I'm Greg Adams. I'm sixty-three years old, and I've been an entrepreneur my whole life — even when I had a full-time job.

I got a degree in electronics and went to work for the power company. And on the weekends, I ran an irrigation company on the side. That's just who I've always been. Later I built two solid trades businesses in Texas — a lawn sprinkler company, and then a water filtration and reverse osmosis business.

My favorite magazine growing up was Entrepreneur. I'd read it and wonder how these people did it. My stepfather managed a chain of grocery stores in Houston, and I did work for the owner — a millionaire, and a very nice man. People like that always intrigued me. I never thought they were that much smarter than me. I just wanted to understand how they built something of their own and seemed happier for it.

I knew a man where I grew up who had a third-grade education. Could barely read or write. But he could count money — and he turned a sand pit and a dump into millions. So I learned early that a diploma was never the thing that made you. The spirit did.

Building those two companies taught me two things that stuck: be independent, and take care of the customer.

The money was never the satisfaction. The satisfaction was solving a problem and leaving somebody's home or business better than I found it. That was the whole reward.

For six years I was away from Texas. My wife is a desert rose — she's from Las Vegas, and she wanted to go back to the desert. I said no for a long time. But women are persistent, and we ended up in northern Nevada, north of Reno.

That's where it happened. I fell in love with the high desert — the smell of the sage, the dry air, the mountains, the night sky. The first time I really saw that sky as a grown man, shooting stars and all, I'll admit it: I cried.

Around that time I was building my own house, and my well guy — an independent fellow named Knoblock — started telling me about the Sea of Cortez. I had no idea what he was talking about. He kept a boat in California and sailed down the coast into the Sea every year. I started looking it up. Little did I know that years later, that would become the place I most wanted to be.

Baja is where the desert meets the sea. My wife came from the desert. We're in our later years now, but we've still got a lot of energy — and this is where we want to plant our flag.

I think people miss what's here because they're too busy. Too many distractions, too much technology, too much life happening on a screen. We've gotten away from our roots, and we've forgotten that business is supposed to be fun.

That's my philosophy now: if it's not fun, I don't want to do it. And I think a lot of entrepreneurs down here feel the exact same way.

Yes, it's a slower pace. You have to get used to it. But I think that's why people here live longer and take it day by day — you find out that a lot of things aren't as important as you thought. I've known plenty of millionaires. The money didn't save them. Maybe a better lifestyle would have.

There's no real community connecting entrepreneurs in this region.

There are so many creative people here — local natives and folks from other countries, all with that entrepreneur spirit. But it's fragmented. Scattered across different publications and websites. Nobody's bringing it together, and nobody's showcasing it.

There are people down here running great businesses, with great customer service, who go completely undiscovered and get no credit. That's who I want to put on the cover. I want to make them shine.

I want Baja Entrepreneur to bring people together. Not just a magazine you read alone — a community. Better connection. Real networking. More of a family. And, in time, real events, in real life.

I want you to read an issue and connect with the person whose story is being told. When I was a teenager, I read the story of In-N-Out — a family business, held together by the grandmother, that stuck to its core values through the burger wars instead of chasing gimmicks. That stayed with me. The people here stick to their core values too, and I want to be inspired by them — and I want you to be inspired by them.

That's why this is a magazine-style feature and not just another newsletter. These people deserve the recognition. They deserve to be on the cover, honored for their hard work. The world's got enough negativity. It needs more inspiration — and some of the people down here inspire me every day.

This is for the person who wants to come here and start a new life. And it's for the person already building something here who wants to build it better.

Come and try. There has never been a better time to do this. When I was young, there was no internet — you were only influenced by the small circle around you, and you had to live in a certain place to make it. Not anymore. Now you can build something real and still live the life you want.

I'll be honest about why this matters to me. I'm sixty-three. My wife is sixty-nine. We're in the last quarter of our years, and we want to enjoy them. There are only so many sunrises and so many sunsets. My wife is an artist — she painted beautiful scenery back in Reno — and I've come to believe that your surroundings are everything. They either give you energy or they take it away.

This place gives it to me. The smell of the Sea of Cortez and the sage. The night stars. Swimming in that water. Happy people. Because we're social creatures, and we've got to get back to being social.

More than money, what my wife and I are after — and what I think a lot of you are after too — is a lifestyle. Connection. Getting back to each other, and back to the earth.

We only have so much time. Let's build something good with it.

— Greg & Char Adams, Founders

I want to hear your story — and maybe put you on the cover.

This magazine is for you — so tell me where to point it. One tap, and there's a box for suggestions if you've got them. I read every one.