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#‘back in my day dark lords didn’t have fancy volcanoes’
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Can’t believe it just kinda dawned on me, as I was brushing my teeth, that Maglor, during the early Fellowship/Ring Council days, was probably still in contact with Elrond and hanging around close by, and knew that Mairon/Sauron—his dead family’s lifelong nemesis—was stirring some bad shit up, but he ultimately decided to just pull the “senior’s retirement” card and not offer up his no doubt exceptionally superior combat skills to assist in any way, shape or form
This is literally him and I love it
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ithilwen-lionheart · 5 years
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Love, lead me on - Legolas x Priestess!Reader/OC - Chapter 1 pt. 1/2
[ Notes: ]
- takes place during The Battle Of The Five Armies
- based on Hey Say JUMP's 'Ai yo boku wo, michibiite yuke'
[ Work Text: ]
A priestess should be one with her surroundings in order to be bound with even the tiniest sounds around her without the use of her senses- from the flutter of a butterfly's wings to the eruption of a volcano.
She is to hear every heart -beating or not- around her as well as the pleads for help and the cries of pain and anguish, tears of those who lost, and those of which who were forsaken. At the chance of being an audience to this, she is to act, for fate had not placed her in the situation she is in for a mere play at destiny's chessboard.
A priestess is there for more than a single reason: to lay gentle hands on the wounded, to aid the disabled, to protect the defenseless, to provide comfort and dreams to the haunted and to save as many souls as she could in behalf of the honor of both herself and the order that she represents by the crest that she wears.
-----
Amidst the roaring flames and clouds of smoke and sight of nothing but destruction, death and chaos, a tiny flicker of hope rises at the hearts of every single villager left alive and running in the floating city of Laketown.
Among them is a priestess, albeit a novice, of the Northern Order.
Dark hair as blue as the night, skin that glistens a milky white under both the sun and moon, and eyes that are the most fanciful shade of lilac. She is a wonder dressed in a dark brown garb over a short white dress and loose pants tucked underneath knee-length boots, darting around the docks hidden under a simple royal blue hood.
As much as she is still a trainee, she sees to it that she could be the best that she could ever be at every moment given and so here she is taking every villager she could into safety and out of the raging flames consuming the entirety of the village.
She is, like Lady Galadriel had said, here for a reason and even though some parts of the 'whyfor's' still isn't anywhere near clear for her at the moment, her heart had already found the most significant reason behind her rushing about just under the gargantuan dragon, Smaug: it was because a piece of her was here.
The piece of her that she so willingly gave to a person who never even asked much less needed it and doesn't even know he had it in the first place: Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, son of Elvenking, Thranduil.
All she had to do was pick up a thing or two about the elves from Mirkwood after miraculously gaining the King's approval through the Elf Lord Elrond, who seemed to have this uncanny fondness of her.
It started with tours around the villages and the castle; then lessons on their language and spells, books and healing; and then it got muddled up with archery and horseback riding because she was studying under Legolas after all and he seemed to develop a fascinating fixation on her Siberian Tiger, Luna- while herself -much to her dismay and disapproval- fell for the prince each day that had passed until she began to ardently wish she could learn shifting sometime soon within that mere month.
But that wasn't the problem, no.
"Celine? Celine!" A hand on her shoulder attempted to shake her back to reality.
This, this was the problem.
Although it took the girl a few moments to register the voice since she was still hearing the screams of a woman who just lost her beloved husband over the memories that smelled vividly of book pages, herbs and had the elf prince written all over it in shades of gold and late afternoon sunlight. She felt something clenching her heart at this and she doesn't know whether she's mourning for the woman's loss or her own.
The girl looks up and sees long ginger hair in braids and bright emerald eyes glistening with concern on the face of the beautiful elf warrior, "Tauriel..." she trails off and turns to look at the thick clouds of smoke that covers the light of the stars.
Tauriel furrows her brows a bit and lets go of the younger girl, "Are you alright?" She asks because there's something in the girl's eyes that goes beyond being a simple Old Soul and a novice priestess.
Celine just nods and shifts her attention to the elf approaching their group. The she-elf notes how the younger girl falters for a moment before schooling her features into that of her usually playful sheepishness around Legolas.
-----
*If I'm allowed to peep into your heart, I only want to make sure of one thing,
I wonder if I exist somewhere in the road leading to you...*
The blond prince approached both of them and it never escaped her how those icy blue eyes simply grazed over her before completely settling on Tauriel.
"Is everything alright, Tauriel?" He asked, his voice gentle and worried as he sheathed his sword and placed it back on its slot in his belt.
And it was just like as if it's just the two of them standing there on burnt planks over the debris-littered water. As if the captain of the guard didn't just leave him alone to chase after Azog during the preliminary ambush of the orcs back when Laketown still wasn't crumbling down in dragon flames, as she tended to the dwarf, Kili.
Tauriel nods, giving the girl beside her a glance that wasn't discreet enough for Legolas not to notice.
'But then again, it's not as if Legolas never noticed anything Tauriel does...' Celine ponders while trying her best not to sound bitter inside her own thoughts as she places that maybe she knows exactly why her chest feels all tight.
Then those piercing eyes were now on hers. He swipes an arrow from his back and aims at something behind her, then shoots.
It hits an orc straight in the face.
"You should know better than to space out at times like these, Celine." His tone was reprimanding but nevertheless, the concern was still in there.
And she adds it up to the reasons why she's still helplessly clinging to this hopeless attachment.
She settles on with a sigh, since mulling about it at present would just mess up with her performance.
Tossing the idea aside, she allowed her senses to fire up and quickly took a dagger from her waist to fling it on the beast that stood a few feet just behind the unsuspecting prince. Finding a remotely stable pole behind them, she ran for it and used it to propel herself forward to kick the thing square on the face for good measure- her body barely missing the prince's face and shoulder as she gracefully spun horizontally through the junction.
Hitting her mark, she then landed on both feet and made a dramatic flourish and a bow after seeing that she had both elve's attention: Tauriel had her face fixed with awe and a sense of profound pride and Legolas simply gawked, albeit effectively unapparent to those who haven't memorized his set of facial reactions.
Which sums up to everyone else who isn't Celine, "Same goes to you, Prince Legolas." She snickers and stood straight, the cape of her hood swishing behind her.
Legolas smirked, "I would not get too brazen now, dear priestess." And she pretends her heart didn't melt at the reply or the title, when he walked towards her and swung his sword at yet another orc behind her.
As much as they're both always at each other's throats and tempers, when it comes to times like these- when they're in the battlefield, running through blood and gore, it's almost as if a bonus instinct that they'd watch each other's back. Even if it's often Celine doing the job while Legolas is busy looking after his love, Tauriel.
Its not as if the novice priestess minds it anyways, she could do this forever so long as she could see his precious smiles safe and sound even if it's for someone else. 'Better see it than not at all, right?' She would all too often think during the times she'd begin to doubt the acceptability of the extents she'd be willing to take for the admiration she feels for the prince.
"If you could please bow, my dear prince?" She suddenly requests and it was so much of an overused 'there's some filth behind you that I am going to hit so please duck' that Legolas immediately complied with an equally mischievous smile as hers, knowing what it means by habit.
Celine swung her left arm back and with it brought water forth and turned them into icicles that she used to successfully impale the beast with, being extremely cautious so as to avoid hitting the exact person she was protecting.
By the moment Legolas had straightened back up to his full height, he shot him one of his grateful little smiles that -she grew to know- meant nothing more than appreciation, before his whole attention was back on some debris that nearly fell over Tauriel had he not pushed her away in time and would've hit both elves had Celine not whistled for Luna to tackle them both to the side.
Commanding the water to douse the flames threatening to begin spreading from their area, she throws them another one of her cheeky grins and places a hand just above her heart,
"At your service, my dearest Prince Legolas and Lady Tauriel."
The Great Tiger then gracefully strides back to her owner at her beckoning and affectionately rubs her huge furry head against the young novice's entire side, "you did great, Luna! Huh? What is it?" Celine's train of giggles was cut off by her familiar's observatory report. Her entire mien changing from the carefree one not too long ago to a deathly serious expression, "Bard? That's foolish! He wouldn't be able to take down Smaug using ordinary arrows. What? His son? Where is he? Oh dear goddess... Okay, take me there." The novice then swiftly climbs up as Luna crouched for her master to settle in.
Noticing the confused although hardened expressions on her companion's faces, she tried to smile even though it came out as a grimace, "If you could please fetch Bard's children from their home? The boy's not there, I'm going to find him." Celine offers as a cue that they should get back to their posts and save as many lives as they could.
And that was precisely when Tauriel made that face that spoke volumes of her concern through her features.
The younger girl could feel her heart break a little for Legolas but she still spoke nevertheless- the bit of information is necessary for all of them to function and know what they're doing and the people that concern them after all, "And yes, Tauriel, the dwarves are with them. Luna also notes that Kili had successfully recovered." The young priestess informs the she-elf who flushed in an embarrassed yet comfortable surprise, while Legolas rose a scrutizing brow with his eyes now fixed on hers.
This, of course, caused the priestess to reach behind and scratch her neck diffidently, a guilty upwards turn on her lips as she spoke, "And I may or may not have mixed in some very specific ingredients to hasten the healing process..." she then averts her gaze to the side and away from electrifying blues, fearing that her resolution to remain neutral would waver at the intensity of those eyes.
Before she knew it there was a hand that rested on her leg that wasn't Legolas' and Tauriel was looking up at her with great relief and gratitude, "Thank you." And those mere words and the thankful squeeze should not have given anything away aside from a profound sense of alleviation but there was a reason why novice's are sent to see the world before they could be considered priestesses.
It is to learn about every being in Middle-Earth, regardless of race and seeing nothing but the hearts underneath chests of either skin or fur, paying careful attention to the underlying emotions behind every breath, batter of eyelashes and those that swirl just around a creature's eyes before disappearing entirely and turning into something else.
And in those emerald green gems she saw love. A yearning so desperate yet aimless and confused just barely concealing the heart's desires with a thin sheen that's nearly transparent. Tauriel had fallen for the dwarf and she knew it ever since that night in Mirkwood's dungeons even though the she-elf was not consciously aware of it.
It was so apparent that it even began to concern Thranduil and Celine was there but she'll never say the words she had heard when the King had confronted his army's captain because it was a secret she'd be willing to bury with her heart once it finally dies from all the blows it had endured for and from the obliviousness of the prince.
"Legolas had grown very found of you."
"I assure you, he only looks at me as a captain and a guard. Nothing more."
"Perhaps once. But not anymore."
"Surely you would not let your son pledge himself to a lowly Silvan elf."
"Yes. You are right. But he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none."
"Shall we head off, Tauriel?" Lilac eyes were fixed on the blonde prince as he clasped a wary hand on Tauriel's shoulder, and she knows just how much he tries to push the inevitable aside.
Because she's doing the exact same thing.
Not trusting herself enough to meet his equally broken soul hidden underneath those pale blue eyes, Celine was quick to turn to the opposite direction heading to Bard's house without once turning back at the elves behind her.
"Appears not... we're on completely different roads and I exist nowhere in yours." A lone tear made its way down one flushed cheek and a brown gloved hand quickly went up to furiously rub it off. She then dons up a smile because it wouldn't help the villagers she'll come across if they'll see her like this, and pats the side of her lifetime companion, "Let's get going. Shall we, Luna?"
-----
*Within the fleeting dream, I wish this unexploited love to end,
Yet, I open my eyes to this red and flickering flame of love...*
Casualty had and will always be a given whenever dragons and war are involved.
No matter what a single or even a group of persons and races do, it could never be avoided and there would still be those who they failed to reach in time and those they never even knew of.
That would most likely explain the burnt and mangled bodies that were strewn across the shore from where they evacuated everyone else.
It was already in the middle of the night and everyone else was long asleep. Celine doesn't know why but out of all the people who had lost someone that's close to their hearts, she was the one who took everything the hardest. Sleep just couldn't find her and so she volunteered to keep the fires burning to keep the villagers from freezing since winter's already upon them.
Smaug's dead, Bard had successfully slain it and was reunited with his family, he was even given the title 'Dragon Slayer'; and the dwarves of Erebor, lead by Thorin Oakenshield, finally reclaimed their homeland.
Of course Kili left with them but it never stopped the dwarf from entertaining the frivolous idea of taking Tauriel with him and that split second of consideration in the she-elf's eyes didn't manage to get pass Celine's keen observation. The priestess then wondered that perhaps Legolas noticed it too because he quickly intervened and told his captain to take her leave of the dwarf who then in turn left a stone with engravings on it as a promise that he'll come back for her.
And that was when she saw the resolution on the prince's eyes deteriorate and through a chink, she was able to see the hurt and despairing vie as his entire figure slumped ever so slightly.
The bluenette visibly sighs now, white puffs of air slipping pass her open mouth. Everything just gets too ridiculously cold whenever Death walks by, and the fact that he leaves trails of emptiness and a path of irremediable loneliness only makes it worse.
A priestess, even those who are novices, could feel the presence of Death and is not exempted from it's dreadful aftertaste. She is consciously aware of the lives it took and the pleads of the souls who do not wish to depart from their loved ones and it tastes like bile stuck at the back of her throat.
The voices are there, yes. And it drags her down into the state of half-sleep, a void that is a mixture of both her conscious and unconscious thoughts. She succumbs to it, it's not as if her service is needed anytime soon and Legolas and Tauriel left earlier to ride north, so there's not really much left for her to do except to keep close watch of the bonfire.
Laying down, her back rested against patches of grass and dirt and she remained still, took a deep breath, watched the midnight skies clear for once to make way for starlight. It never failed to make her marvel at how surreal and distant the skies feel for mortals, like some unattainable dream forever for them to see but never to touch and everything goes back and all she could see was the elf prince the very instant she had closed her eyes.
It all come crashing down like some vivid recollection of the times she stood beside him. From the way he elegantly draws his arrows, aims with his long arms and shocking depths of intoxicating blue, and then shoots with deadly precision at whatever his target is; to the way he skillfully fights his enemies with practiced ease in using swords and daggers as well as quick wits; how he could be so much of an adept warrior yet a refined prince both at the same time; how he's so warm, so gentle and there's so much knowledge crammed into the little space in his eyes and even though his soul could be ages old, he'll remain eternally youthful and curious and the fact that his heart could be so achingly dedicated to both the wrong causes and the right ones in tragic equality, Celine finds, is the thought that hurts her the most.
Sometimes she couldn't keep herself from wishing that she never had these feelings in the first place. The fact that a critical part of her supposedly undivided attention as an aspiring priestess had been effortlessly snagged by one single person is trouble enough, but coupling it with the actuality that it is unrequited only makes it all the more unbearable for her. It partitions everything she does in two and as much as she doesn't want to shamelessly admit it, if there'll be some innocent human, elf, or dwarf hanging on the edge of a cliff with an incapacitated Legolas on the other and she could only save one of them she'd very much rush to the prince's aid without so much as a second thought.
"Argh," she groans in self-disappointment, "I should get my priorities set straight.. I am such a horrible disgrace to my house." she threw her hands up, still refusing to open her eyes.
"How could you say such a thing about yourself?" And that voice sounded so hauntingly beautiful and familiar that she wished she could just close her eyes forever and hear nothing but the sound of that voice saying her name in the tone it would use to address his beloved.
She tried to keep her eyes closed, feign sleep-talking or at least anything at all to keep her from seeing him as near her as the way his voice sounded because she doubts she'll be able to take this without breaking and like always, she fell a prisoner to his words as he leaned a bit closer and demanded that she appropriately face him whenever they're talking.
Lilac eyes fluttered open and all she could see was his face curtained by his silky long blonde locks on each side and she figures maybe he's the reason why the moon was missing that night.
Like some child in a trance, Celine slowly reaches upward with one hand to gingerly touch a few glistening strands in between her thumb and index fingers just to see if the Legolas crouching down beside her was real.
With the slightest curve on the side of one perfect mouth, the figure vanished into thin air, like silvery whisps of evergreen scented vapor. It didn't even take a second for the girl to realize that it was nothing more but a figure of her yearning that was immense enough for it to take concrete form through the unconscious use of her power.
Standing up with an emotionally spent expression strewn across her face for no one to see, she made her way towards the camp to replenish the fire threatening to die out.
The renewed pang her daydream left fueled the flickering embers in her heart even as it slowly turned into everything synonymous to despair as she stared at the crackling wood before her.
The illusion may have deserted her but the hole it left in her heart had stayed- and the apprentice thinks she'll harbor that for as long as her pitiful existence on earth would be.
-----
*I might not be the one who warms up your cold and numb hands, but
the one who can illuminate my future in this world is only you...*
The real Legolas is with Tauriel under the same stars she's seeing that night. It is relatively cold and Celine wonders if they're some place warm or are they sitting close enough to each other in front of an open fire outside.
It wouldn't matter if it gets cold. There are two of them afterall. Always had been and always will be. Because even though the elleth have some tendencies to go astray, the priestess knows that the prince would blindly follow her through the ends of the world.
And perhaps -Celine hopes- that the captain would at least return the favor by protecting him even if it'll be done out of mere courtesy. It would be hard for the priestess to intervene if they would be this far away from her and some time soon, she'll have to leave their sides and discover the rest of the world-
Alone. To further pursue her desire to be a legitimate priestess of great power to protect and help those who are in need the same way she'd dedicate herself to safeguard those whom she holds dear.
Tear-stained violets continued to stare on at the dancing flames as she curled up into a ball in a fetal sitting position. Allowing herself the luxury of weeping for all the wrong causes she'd be willing to take and the future she could never see without the prince in it.
Even so, she'll thrive for that future if she must, seeing as it is her only purpose for living. And the road she'd take towards that path would always be lit up by the purpose of being able to stand proudly beside the prince someday, even if it means that she'll have to stay as nothing more but a priestess in his service.
-----
*Even though I deliver this "I love you" to you one million times.
In the end, you won't give me a "YES", but
I will deliver this "I love you" to you one more million times again.
Oh love, please show me a way... *
They never went back that day. Or the day after that. Not even when the villagers of Laketown went on their journey towards the ruined city of Dale, not even after they have arrived.
The bluenette girl did her best to be of help to everyone. From tending to the wounded and handing out blankets and food rations to keeping watch at night and maintaining the flames, just to get her mind off of things.
She knows that even Bard himself had grown worried of her dedication to keeping the night watch but he never did directly voice his concern. He just asked her once if she's alright and suggested that he could give the task to someone else that night just so that she could have a well-deserved rest, to which she, of course, courteously declined.
The midnight chills are much better than the warmth of a blanket after all.
These past few days, sleep had been her enemy, everything that came close to it had conjured the same picturesque version of the prince. The one who'd openly smile for her and for her alone, the one she could actually tell her genuine feelings to without the fear of being looked down upon with distaste and being avoided altogether. She couldn't really recount how many times she told this prince how much she adores him and how many times he'd been so close to touch before her consciousness kicks back in and she realizes that everything was just the same tricks her mind was playing on her over and over again.
And so, over and over she fell and swore and spilled the same words to the same figure, hoping that it would at least make him realize how much she truly, desperately means it. Over and over she awakes to see herself in the same position: curled into a ball, tucked beside Luna in front of the blazing fire before her, her cheeks wet; over and over her thoughts would wander to Legolas and she'll say the same words again.
Some nights, she'll ride Luna at full speed and run up at hills to scream, at others she'll curl in with the tiger and just settle with a coveted whisper.
All those times, her words fell on deaf ears. All those nights, her voice shivered and cracked words of admiration and dedication for the prince. Over and over again.
Out of love, out of helpless passion that she knew would never be returned.
And she'll make the same decision because none of it was ever a mistake.
Nothing could be considered a mistake anymore, especially not a word said a million times before and again.
-----
*After giving me a smile with downcast eyes, you suddenly grew up
That was like a sharp knife split my chest apart...*
The desolation of Smaug was merely a part of something bigger. Compared to the bloody war that came next, the flames and corpses of human villagers was nothing compared to the aftermath that The Battle of The Five Armies had left.
Bloody, mangled remains of elves, dwarves, orcs, and humans had littered both the foot of Erebor and the repeatedly destroyed city of Dale along with discarded armors and deteriorated stone walls of once great cities.
No matter how you put it, there's no absolute victory even after the war had been won by the rallied forces of all races combined against the Gundabad orcs and the annihilation of Azog the Defiler and his right-hand, Borg.
Not even Celine -the young apprentice to Lady Galadriel- could feel remotely festive even if she was the key to every bit of success they had with this war.
She had stopped a very much unneeded war between the Sindarin Elves and the army of Thorin's cousin and had fought alongside the dwarves and elves as Durin's kin hid behind the walls of Erebor while the orcs attacked in astounding numbers. Standing firm with her usual garbs and nothing else but her courage and a sword and the skills she had learned from Legolas. Her great tiger, Luna, beside her.
Celine had fought and will fight, for everyone else's life if not for her prince's. That's why and how she manages to live, her own self-preservation completely going down in shambles every moment this unreciprocated charade of hers stretched on and she's not even remotely guilty to throw her life across the line far more times than she had kissed and will kiss the moon goodnight - and she aims to be a priestess of the moon someday.
[ To be continued in Chapter 1 pt. 2/2 ]
[ A/N: ] I wasn't aware of the word count limit here in Tumblr seeing as this is my first time putting one of my fics out here so here's the 1st part of the 1st chapter to an ongoing fanfiction book I'm writing over at Wattpad entitled 'Love lead me on'.
Am gonna try cross-posting some of my fanfics here so as to bring my blog some life so I hope y'all give them some love~!
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Volcano (Girls Talk Boys part 22)
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And I'll ask for what I give to you Is just what I'm going through This is nothing new No no just another phase of finding what I really need
What I am to you is not real What I am to you you do not need What I am to you is not what you mean to me You give me miles and miles of mountains And I'll ask for the sea 
“So wait what happened in the grocery store?” Camille giggling at Cher who was getting more annoyed.
It was after 1 am and Cher, unable to sleep, had heard footsteps upstairs. Hoping it was Camille she shot her a text that was just a wine glass emoji. Minutes later Camille had come down. Her hair absolutely wrecked pulling on her burnt orange Texas longhorns oversized cut off sweatshirt over a black sports bra and boy shorts.
“I'm telling you he was fucking with me. He kept touching me and then pretending it didn't happen. He'd say something slick and then give me the most innocent look.” Cher was getting louder with irritation as she continued.
“Ashton can pull off many looks, innocent is not one of them.” Camille chuckled. “ Also stop being so loud before you wake up Calum. He finally went to sleep.”
“You make him sound like a toddler.” Cher had to grin.
“He's cranky when he's tired. Besides he'll want me to come back upstairs. So ok maybe Ashton was flirting. He's clearly attracted to you.” Camille winked at her.
“So attracted to me that he wants to play this game and not actually have sex with me.” Cher huffed.
“Do you want him to stop?” Camille looked at her over her wine glass.
“Fuck NO but what is he waiting for” Cher was frustrated but still smiling.
“Maybe he wants to take it slow. Maybe it'll be better that way.” Camille teased her.
“Says the girl who spent three days riding dick like she was racing for the win in the Kentucky Derby.” Cher retorted smiling as she reached for her phone. “Look what he sent me when he got home.”
“You were such a good girl for me today kitten. Look what it did to me.” Ashton's voice was muffled until Cher turned the phone towards her.
“Oh my God that's a penis.” Camille's eyes went wide and her hand flew to cover her mouth.
“Good Lord how big IS he?” Camille turned away but snuck another quick peek.
“I thought you knew. You are the one who spent the night in bed with him.” Cher teased. “You mean all those FaceTimes and you never got to see it?”
“Be serious. On Face Time we talked about everything except sex. I've heard the rumors but no the Snapchat sex we left to you and Luke. Halloween aka the night you defiled Spongebob I was drunk and crying, Ashton had enough sense not to flash his cock around. On sure in the morning I could see his bulge was big but not like the one eyed monster I just saw winking at me.” Camille snorted.
“I'm tempted to go over there and just jump him when he answers the door.” Cher opened the fridge picking at leftovers.
“That won't work” Camille told her dryly.
“You think I don't know that?” Cher replied.
“Why are you pouting? Hasn't he gotten you off twice now?” Camille pointed out trying not to grin at the glare she received.
“It's not the same bitch, you know that, don't play.” Cher tried to look menacing but she was still smiling.
“What about all the other times? He brought you lunch the other day. Last week y'all huddled up on the couch catching up on Shameless. He's been over quite a bit lately. Nothing is happening at all?” Camille asked.
“Oh sure, he gives me little kisses, rubs my neck or smacks my ass but he never takes it any further.” Cher told her.
A groan interrupted them and they both looked at her phone and burst out laughing.
“Why is this video still playing? I don't need to hear such filth.” Camille pretended to look shocked. “Besides Calum will murder all of us if I'm sitting here watching Ashton jerk off.”
Cher finally found the snack she wanted. Grabbing a plate she put the remainder of a baked brie cheese down along with some grapes. She rummaged through the cabinets.
“Your boyfriend is cute when he's jealous. We're out of the fancy white lady crackers. Do you want Triscuits or Ritz?”
“Calum isn't my boyfriend. Grab both I can't make up my mind.” Cher set the food down as Camille continued. “We're officially dating, but that's as far as that goes.”
“You're so full of shit Cam. He stole the show at dinner. I got choked up. I thought Lucy was going to faint. You guys really are adorable.”
Camille's cheeks flamed as she concentrated on chewing not wanting to answer.
Cher popped a grape in her mouth. “I think he really likes you. More than you think.”
“We'll see. Let's see where we are in January.” Camille refilled her wine.
“Are you really that worried? Everything has been great so far.” Cher knew the answer but she was trying to be reassuring.
“This is a nightmare. Calum is flying across the world. At the same time you know who will be there as well.” Cher started to interrupt but Camille stopped her. “No I don't really believe he'd do that. There's just this little voice in the back of my brain that won't shut the fuck up. Whispering at me ‘rebound’ ‘'groupie’ and I'm trying so hard not to listen.”
“The smartest person I know told me not to worry about what other people do because you can't control that. Now are you going to cheer up or do I have to show you Ashton's dick again?”
“Ashton?” Camille smirked snapping out of it. “Don't you mean Daddy?”
“Don't you start too” Cher rolled her eyes.
“Admit it. You think it's hot. I think it's hot,” Camille poked her side making her jump.
“You gonna call Calum daddy now? Does Calum have any kinks?”
“I couldn't call him that. Not with a straight face. I don't know if Calum has any kinks. He's never said anything.” Camille shrugged.
“Come on he has to be into something freaky. I couldn't see him being a sub. He's too dark and mysterious for all that.” Cher mused.
“Save it for your novel. It's bad enough you made Calum king of your sex demons”
“Energy vampires”
“Whatever”
“And it's not Calum it's Calthazar thank you very much. Maybe I'll make his kink being loud as hell during sex” Cher teased and Camille blushed.
“I bought you new headphones and I'm not that loud anymore.” A deep gravelly voice traveled through the kitchen. Cam and Cher  jumped and turned as he entered the kitchen. Both girls caught their breath at the sight of a freshly rolled out of bed Cal wearing nothing but Camille's grey basketball shorts.
“Did we wake you up babe?” Camille kissed his cheek as he sat down next to her at the bar giving her a sleepy smile.
“Nah, woke up to piss, realized you were gone. I heard voices and thought I'd see what you hens were cackling about. D'you mind if I get a drink?” Cal asked them.
“Whatcha need C-swizz?” Cher turned towards the fridge. “Water, tea, wine?”
“She's got me into sweet tea lately so that sounds good.” Calum responded. “So what were you ladies chatting about this late?”
Camille was too distracted playing with his hair to answer. Cher came to the bar sliding Cal a glass of sweet tea and a plate with some cookies and two slices of Cam's zucchini bread.
“We were talking about Ashton and his bullshit and whether you had any kinks” Cher shot him an evil grin as he almost choked at her words.
Camille yelped but Cher continued “and I accidentally showed her Ashton's penis. That was my fault don't be mad at her for it.”
“I'm not mad” he chuckled then turned to Camille who was looking at the floor.
Calum's brow furrowed when he lifted her chin so her eyes met his and he saw genuine worry. “Darling I'm not mad. I promise.” He winked at her and smiled. “As long as mine is the only one you're touching” he said before closing in for a kiss.
“Before you two start sucking face you haven't answered my question. Are you kinky like Ashton?” Cher demanded.
Calum broke away from Camille both of them laughing. He turned to Cher.
“None of us are kinky like Ashton” Calum told her. “Ashton has the wild side, Michael too from what I've heard.”
“So what you're saying is you are as vanilla as Camille.” Cher was teasing him again.
Calum looked at Camille “are you ok with me talking about this here?”
Camille nodded “she's the freak in the sheets around here.  Anything kinky you're into I'd probably have to ask her about anyways.”
Calum shrugged “ok then. I'm kind of into pain during sex.” He looked at Camille “ when you pull my hair when I'm going down on you. That turns me on so much.”
Camille blushed deeper and crossed her legs.
Calum continued “I've always seen the candle wax in movies and it looks dangerous but I've always wondered what it would be like.”
Camille was too surprised to know what to say. Cher saw her expression and laughed. “Great Calum now you've given her a project. She's gonna look into this. Are either of you gonna finish this?”
Camille shook her head and yawned. “No but save that bit of brie. I'll make a sandwich tomorrow.”
“Cher if you don't mind I'm gonna steal my girl back from you.” Calum nuzzled into Camille's neck. “I only have two weeks to get in all the snuggles I can before I gotta leave.”
“I'll clean up and roll a blunt before I go to bed. Make sure you pull his hair good Camille now that you know he likes it.” Cher called out as Calum threw Camille over his shoulder and carried her upstairs and back to bed.
Calum tossed her onto the bed. Pulling her sweatshirt over her head he turned his attention to her shorts. He toyed with the waistband as he landed countless featherlight kisses on her belly. Looking up at her with a smirk he eased her shorts slowly down past her hips and legs until he tossed them aside. He parted Camille's thighs and as he moved his head between them he grinned up at her “Let's play a game. Guess what I'm spelling.”
To her credit Camille got to ‘I'm going to miss you’ before she stopped trying and just lost herself on Calum's tongue.
Two days later Calum and Ashton surprised the girls with Christmas tree for the living room.
“I was going to get a real one but I wasn't sure with your allergies.” Calum told Camille.
“I talked him out of the pink tree” Ashton told them.
“He thinks he did” Calum dug into the shopping bag pulling out a box containing a 18 inch pre lit pink Christmas tree. “I thought you could put it in your studio.”
“That is the cutest thing, thank you” Camille gave him a kiss. Calum responded by pulling her closer to him.
“I'd tell you two to get a room but you'd just go upstairs and leave us with all the work.” Ashton cracked. “They're gonna be insufferable until me leave aren't they?”
“When are they not?” Cher laughed jumping when Ashton landed a smack on her ass. “You guys didn't get any decorations? Just the tree?”
“We didn't know what you'd like doll.” Ashton shrugged.
“Alright then let's go get some” Camille grabbed her keys. Calum grabbed his jacket and helped her into hers.
“You two have fun” Ashton winked.
“Not a chance Irwin. You two are coming along. Who knows what y'all would get up to if we left you alone.” Camille motioned for them to follow her.
They spent two hours shopping. As soon as they'd walked in the door Ashton had found a display of Christmas headbands. He'd made Camille an elf, Cher and Cal were reindeer and Ashton was Santa. They playfully argued over which ornaments to get. The boys used wrapping paper to sword fight until an employee gave them a dirty look. Calum kept sticking bows on Camille. Ashton and Cher decided that since Camille had a little pink tree Cher needed one too. All they could find were white and green trees so Ashton snagged a white and a green one .
“Why are you getting two?” Calum asked him.
“One for her and one for me. See who's tree comes out better.” Ashton replied.
“Sounds like a challenge” Calum grabbed the last tree.
Ashton decided to get spray paint so they could have different color trees. Then they checked out and headed to the craft store to find decorations for their tiny trees.
When they got back Camille ordered pizza, then put her favorite Pentatonix Christmas albums on shuffle as Ashton gathered up what he needed to paint the trees.
Cher and Calum busied themselves putting the tree up,  getting out the decorations and playing with Duke.
By the time the pizza arrived Ashton had sprayed the two trees. Cher's was light blue gradiating to dark teal and Cal's was candy apple red.
They divided up the work on the big tree. Cal hung the lights, Cher strung the garland and tinsel, Camille put the ornaments on hooks and she and Ashton put them on the tree. It was no time at all before Cal was putting the star on the tree. Camille popped some cookies in the oven as the Christmas tree decorating competition commenced. They had really scoured the beads and charms section in the craft store to find some unique ornaments.
Well all of them except Ashton. His tree was very traditional. Pine green with multi color lights and fake snow dusting the branches with a white felt tree skirt dusted with green and red glitter. His tree was loaded with colorful balls, dewdrop and snowflake ornaments. His tree looked like an alpine mountain Christmas.
Cher had taken her tree down by the sea. The tree skirt was burlap and the ornaments were primarily blue, green and purple fish with a smattering of starfish and seahorse blown glass beads. She'd strung mini seashells over clear glass lights to make them glow. She glued two sand dollars to the top branch for a tree topper.
Camille had her pink tree decorated with little footballs and helmets. White metal musical notes, castles, books and a handful of C's hung over sparingly used silver tinsel. Topped with a tiny silver heart and wrapped in pink tulle around the bottom it was adorable.
Calum's tree was rock and roll. Silver motorcycle charms and guitars mixed in with black metal musical notes, dog silhouettes and C's hung next to white lights. The tree skirt was black velvet and he put a heart identical to Camille's tree but in black as his topper.  
By the time they all finished and declared Cher the winner it was past midnight. The girls decided they should all have a slumber party. The boys made a cushion fort. Camille blew up an air mattress and Cher drug her mattress off her bed. They all settled in. Ashton was lying top to tail next to Cher and Calum made the big spoon around Camille. No sex that night just friendship and cuddles.
Camille couldn't believe it was already here. The days had flown by and now Calum had to leave. Camille walked him downstairs. He was holding Duke under one arm and the other wrapped around her. He'd already put his luggage by her front door so he didn't have to waste any time that morning. Cher woke up and wandered out to give Calum a goodbye hug. Ashton knocked on the door. Cher answered and found her face between his large hands as he kissed her.
“I'm gonna miss you kitten. If you're good while I'm away Daddy will have something special when he gets home.” Ashton murmured in her ear. Cher went to kiss him again and this time he didn't pull away. He lost himself in the kiss hoping she'd still want him when he returned.
Calum finally let go of Camille giving her one last kiss and scratching Duke behind the ears. He promised he'd call her as soon as he could. Ashton walked with him in silence out to the van. He pretended not to hear Cal's tiny sniffle or see the tear he wiped away. They turned back one last time and the girls were standing in the door waving goodbye and Camille had Duke's little paw waving too. Calum almost lost it right there. He was thrilled to see his family again, but spending a month away already hurt.
@biba3434 @happycrimiscalum @babygirlcashton @slimthicccal @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @vfdsstuff
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emilyzh2019-blog · 5 years
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My Craziest Travel Story
Somewhere In Mexico…
This is the story of how I accidentally wandered into an extremely remote Mexican village that was openly controlled by a ruthless drug cartel — and what happened next.
The other week I was taking an Uber from the airport, chatting with the driver about traveling and working around the world as a nomad.
After asking the standard question everyone asks “what’s your favorite country”, he wanted to know if I’ve ever felt in any danger while traveling.
Sure, I’ve been scared before.
When I crossed the border into Afghanistan by myself on foot.
Balancing on rusty beams 300 feet over a canyon in Spain.
Attempting to wade across a crocodile-infested river in Costa Rica.
Scuba diving without a cage in Fiji face-to-face with bull sharks.
Spending the night on an erupting volcano in Guatemala.
Illegally hopping a freight train while hitchhiking across America.
Yes, looking back, I’ve done some stupid & risky stuff over the years…
But the most scared I’ve ever been — was on a journey through Northern Mexico about 7 years ago. And it’s a story I’ve NEVER shared on this blog.
I wrestled with writing about this experience for a long time.
It just didn’t feel appropriate to share publicly, or even very safe for that matter. I was worried about the possible consequences for myself and others.
Yet I think enough time has passed that I finally feel comfortable sharing my crazy (and pretty dumb) encounter with dangerous members of a notorious drug cartel in the lawless mountains deep within Mexico’s Copper Canyon.
Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.
The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains
Once Upon A Time In Mexico…
My tale begins in the Mexican tourist town of Creel. A major stop for the popular Copper Canyon Train which runs from the cities of Chihuahua through the Sierra Tarahumara mountains to Los Mochis on the coast.
After a very scenic (but uneventful) train journey through the mountains, I planned to explore more of this mountainous area on my own. Hoping to spend time with the Tarahumara, a Mexican indigenous group.
While chatting with locals, I learned of small villages at the bottom of the canyon that would present a more “authentic” Northern Mexican experience. Off-the-beaten-path if you will.
These places were not easy to reach, and the drive would take hours on rough mountain roads. I mentioned my plan to a local guy (let’s call him Fede) who I’d worked with earlier, and he offered to take me in his vehicle.
Fede wasn’t just some random dude. I’d already spent a few days traveling with him. Even crashing overnight at his family’s house. He was a well-known local professional. I trusted him completely.
Rugged Dirt Roads in Mexico
Surprises Down In The Canyon
I’m not going to name the specific village I traveled to in this story. However, I’m sure if you dig deep enough, you’ll probably be able to figure it out.
Because it’s not like what goes on down there isn’t unknown within Mexico.
Over the course of our 4+ hour drive down winding dirt roads into the depths of the Copper Canyon, Fede starts to share some unsettling information with me.
“When we get there, you may see some stuff that’s alarming. But don’t worry. They know you’re coming.” – Fede
“Wait, what?! What kind of stuff? Who knows I’m coming?” – Me
“The Cartel. They control this town. But when the guesthouse has a tourist, the owner informs The Cartel. They won’t bother you as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” – Fede
“……….” – Me
The Cartel he was referring to is the Sinaloa Drug Cartel. Aka Cártel de Sinaloa, aka the Guzmán-Loera Organization, aka The Blood Alliance.
The same cartel controlled by the notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, who was just on trial in the United States for drug trafficking, murder, and money laundering.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
The Golden Triangle – Drug Production Area in Mexico
Mexico’s Golden Triangle
The Golden Triangle is the nickname given to a remote and mountainous region in Northern Mexico that encompasses the states of Chihuahua, Sinaloa, and Durango.
It’s where Mexico’s powerful cartels have been growing billions of dollars worth of heroin & weed to supply an insatiable demand for drugs from the United States.
Cartels are able to produce drugs in the Golden Triangle because the area is so rugged & inaccessible that it can take hours to reach these small villages on unmarked dirt roads.
Mexico’s Copper Canyon, if you haven’t heard of it before, is a massive canyon that’s technically larger and deeper than the US Grand Canyon. It is the perfect hiding place for fields of illegally grown opium poppies & marijuana plants!
Combine this fact with a desperately poor workforce of indigenous people called the Tarahumara, and you’ve got a Mexican drug lord’s wet dream.
This is where I found myself.
On the edge of the Golden Triangle, in a village controlled by the Sinaloa Cartel.
The Only Bridge Into Town
A Surreal Travel Experience
As we pull into the village, over a narrow bridge, I see a kid talking into a military-style radio. He’s announcing our arrival to the cartel. My heart begins to race.
Further down the road, we pass a group of men dressed in black, armed with assault rifles. I begin to sweat.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…
Fede notices my apprehension and assures me everything will be ok. I’m not the first tourist to visit this town.
Because the cartel doesn’t want to draw any attention to themselves, they’d never harm a tourist. That would force the military to intervene and ruin everything.
I check into my guesthouse, the only one in town, and we eat lunch at his friend’s place, which is basically a small restaurant run out of her home.
One of the Cartel’s Trucks
Keeping Tabs On Me…
Fede says his goodbyes and leaves town. He has to go back to work. So I’m on my own now. I walk around town. I visit some abandoned silver mines nearby.
I stop into the local museum and sign the guestbook (the last signature is over a month old).
I pass by the group of cartel members I saw earlier. We say hello to each other. While they certainly appear to fit the stereotype of hardened criminals, they seem friendly enough.
I still can’t quite believe this is happening.
My goal for the day is to visit an old Spanish Mission, located a few miles out of town. On the way, I run into a pickup truck with blacked-out windows on the side of the road. As I approach, the driver’s side window rolls down.
“¿A dónde vas?” says a large scary dude in a cowboy hat. There’s a beautiful woman half his age in the passenger seat.
“La misión Española” I reply. He nods, and the window slides back up. They’re keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don’t stumble into their fields of poppy or marijuana.
Friendly Mexican Drug Farmer
This Sack is Full of Weed…
Everyone Works For The Drug Cartel
Over the next few days, I learn that basically the whole town is working for the cartel. They are the sole employer.
I’m not sure if it’s by choice, or by the threat of violence, but growing and trafficking drugs for the cartel is how this town survives.
And some of them are not afraid to talk about it. Growing marijuana is as normal as growing corn. It’s just another crop — only one that pays much better.
After chatting with one local farmer for a while, he takes me up to a small barn behind his house, pulls out a large sack, and offers me two giant handfuls of freshly picked marijuana buds!
I start laughing, thanking him for his generosity, but explain that there’s no way I can bring his gift back into the United States with me.
But… because I’m a polite guy, I accept a few flowers so he isn’t offended.
This man isn’t some murderous cartel member, he’s just a friendly, impoverished farmer trying to make a living for his family with very limited opportunities.
Making Friends in Town
A Very Surreal Experience
So while the whole cartel situation had me feeling pretty nervous, this next part was the scariest moment of the whole few days I was down there.
My comfort level had been improving. I was getting used to chatting with cartel members each day. Maybe too comfortable.
One evening, a young Mexican guy dressed like a rodeo cowboy walks into the home-based restaurant where I’m eating dinner.
He’s wearing a pair of beautiful, very fancy white-handled revolvers on his hip. Like right out of your typical Spaghetti Western movie.
A heavily armed bodyguard wearing a bullet-proof vest waits for him outside.
We happily chat for a minute in Spanish, asking how I like the food, before they both disappear into the darkness of night. Everything is getting very surreal, and I seriously feel like I’m trapped in a movie.
On another occasion, I watch a team of five armed men loading blue 55-gallon drums of something from a truck into a guarded building.
Weed? Opium poppies? Human remains dissolving in acid? My imagination starts to run wild…
Sinaloa Cartel Members (Faces Censored for Safety)
Getting The Shot
I REALLY wanted a photo of one of these guys. No one would believe all this happened to me unless I had a photo!
So the next morning, I cut a small hole into the side of my backpack and tape a GoPro inside. My plan is to use “time-lapse” mode, quietly shooting photos automatically as I walk past them.
However as I approach, I decide to stop and chat. With my adrenaline pumping, I simply ask them directly. Pointing at the camera around my neck. What’s the worst that could happen?
“¿Puedo tomar tu retrato?” (Can I take your portrait?) – Me
“Jajaja… no.” – Cartel Dude
“Please? My American friends back home would love to see your big gun. I can leave your face out of it if you’d like.” – Me
“Jajaja… no. But you can get a photo of my amigo here.” – Cartel Dude
So, without thinking about the consequences, I aim my wide-angle lens at the truck driver sitting next to him. *CLICK*
Cartel Dude is in the photo too, but just doesn’t realize it.
Immediately I start to panic — internally. What if he asks to see the photo? That was so dumb! I’m going to get myself killed. Maybe I can quickly use the zoom button before showing it to him…
Fortunatley he never asks — and just assumes the camera wasn’t aimed his way.
I try to act normal, end the conversation, and walk off down the road contemplating just how stupid that was.
I think it’s time for me to leave this town.
Patrolling the Village
Mexico’s Remote Golden Triangle
Cartel Wars In The Mountains
As someone who has spent almost 2 years of my life both living and traveling through Mexico, I’ll be the first to tell you it’s one of my favorite countries.
I certainly don’t want my story to scare you from visiting Mexico. This is NOT a typical Mexican vacation experience.
I specifically went out of my way to visit a remote area that isn’t very safe. Even for the Copper Canyon itself — if you stay on the normal tourist trail you’ll be fine.
However if you venture off-grid in this region, there’s a lot of sh*t going on.
Mexico is an amazing and beautiful destination, but like any country, it can also be a dangerous one if you go looking for danger.
Golden Triangle In Flames Again (Borderland Beat)
Extreme Race in the Shadow of Extreme Danger (New York Times)
Drug Gangs Delay Sierra Trail Riders (My San Antonio)
One particular story that shook me recently was the murder of North Carolina teacher Patrick Braxton-Andrew, who was visiting a similar remote village in the same region last year.
That one hit close to home. A curious traveler looking for adventure, trying to get off the beaten path, exploring a dangerous area on his own… mistaken for a DEA agent and shot by the drug cartels.
When I first started traveling, I did many risky and stupid things seeking that addictive jolt of adrenaline. Hell, I haven’t completely cured myself of it even now!
Luckily everything has turned out ok so far, and I have some pretty incredible memories and stories to show for it.
But that isn’t always the case for everyone.
My Scariest Travel Story
I’m not sure if there is a lesson in this story. Maybe there are many.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes? Young people traveling with no responsibilities often take unnecessary risks for fun? Don’t be an idiot like me?
I’m sure I’ll be judged and ridiculed a bit for writing about this. That’s ok. It happened, and I have to live with it. I’m probably lucky to be living at all…
Have you ever done anything stupid like this while traveling? Taken on too much risk? Gotten yourself into a sticky situation that you regret later?
Frequent travelers have this insufferable tendency to “one-up” each other’s travel stories — and this one is mine. The one I share at bars after a few drinks.
Now it’s your turn to share.
Take a minute to quickly describe your scariest/dumb travel story.
If only to make me feel like I’m not the only one out there who’s done something stupid on the road…
Maybe we can turn it into a guide on “what-not-to-do while traveling.” ★
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READ MORE TRAVEL TIPS
My 50 Best Tips After 9 Years Traveling Is Instagram Ruining Travel? How To Take Better Travel Photos Why I Quit Being A Digital Nomad Tips For Starting A Travel Blog
What’s your scariest travel story? Have you ever done something dangerous or stupid while traveling? Drop me a message in the comments below!
This is a post from The Expert Vagabond adventure blog.
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janetchavezcom · 5 years
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My Run-In With A Notorious Mexican Drug Cartel
My Craziest Travel Story
Somewhere In Mexico…
This is the story of how I accidentally wandered into an extremely remote Mexican village that was openly controlled by a ruthless drug cartel — and what happened next.
No, this is not an April fools post. Posted April 2nd!
The other week I was taking an Uber from the airport, chatting with the driver about traveling and working around the world as a nomad.
After asking the standard question everyone asks “what’s your favorite country”, he wanted to know if I’ve ever felt in any danger while traveling.
Sure, I’ve been scared before.
When I crossed the border into Afghanistan by myself on foot.
Balancing on rusty beams 300 feet over a canyon in Spain.
Attempting to wade across a crocodile-infested river in Costa Rica.
Scuba diving without a cage in Fiji face-to-face with bull sharks.
Spending the night on an erupting volcano in Guatemala.
Illegally hopping a freight train while hitchhiking across America.
Yes, looking back, I’ve done some stupid & risky stuff over the years…
But the most scared I’ve ever been — was on a journey through Northern Mexico about 7 years ago. And it’s a story I’ve NEVER shared on this blog.
I wrestled with writing about this experience for a long time.
It just didn’t feel appropriate to share publicly, or even very safe for that matter. I was worried about the possible consequences for myself and others.
Yet I think enough time has passed that I finally feel comfortable sharing my crazy (and pretty dumb) encounter with dangerous members of a notorious drug cartel in the lawless mountains deep within Mexico’s Copper Canyon.
Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.
The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains
Once Upon A Time In Mexico…
My tale begins in the Mexican tourist town of Creel. A major stop for the popular Copper Canyon Train which runs from the cities of Chihuahua through the Sierra Tarahumara mountains to Los Mochis on the coast.
After a very scenic (but uneventful) train journey through the mountains, I planned to explore more of this mountainous area on my own. Hoping to spend time with the Tarahumara, a Mexican indigenous group.
While chatting with locals, I learned of small villages at the bottom of the canyon that would present a more “authentic” Northern Mexican experience. Off-the-beaten-path if you will.
These places were not easy to reach, and the drive would take hours on rough mountain roads. I mentioned my plan to a local guy (let’s call him Fede) who I’d worked with earlier, and he offered to take me in his vehicle.
Fede wasn’t just some random dude. I’d already spent a few days traveling with him. Even crashing overnight at his family’s house. He was a well-known local professional. I trusted him completely.
Rugged Dirt Roads in Mexico
Surprises Down In The Canyon
I’m not going to name the specific village I traveled to in this story. However, I’m sure if you dig deep enough, you’ll probably be able to figure it out.
Because it’s not like what goes on down there isn’t unknown within Mexico.
Over the course of our 4+ hour drive down winding dirt roads into the depths of the Copper Canyon, Fede starts to share some unsettling information with me.
“When we get there, you may see some stuff that’s alarming. But don’t worry. They know you’re coming.” – Fede
“Wait, what?! What kind of stuff? Who knows I’m coming?” – Me
“The Cartel. They control this town. But when the guesthouse has a tourist, the owner informs The Cartel. They won’t bother you as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” – Fede
“……….” – Me
The Cartel he was referring to is the Sinaloa Cartel. Aka Cártel de Sinaloa, aka the Guzmán-Loera Organization, aka The Blood Alliance.
The same cartel controlled by the notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, who was just on trial in the United States for drug trafficking, murder, and money laundering.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
The Golden Triangle – Drug Production Area in Mexico
Mexico’s Golden Triangle
The Golden Triangle is the nickname given to a remote and mountainous region in Northern Mexico that encompasses the states of Chihuahua, Sinaloa, and Durango.
It’s where Mexico’s powerful cartels have been growing billions of dollars worth of heroin & weed to supply an insatiable demand for drugs from the United States.
Cartels are able to produce drugs in the Golden Triangle because the area is so rugged & inaccessible that it can take hours to reach these small villages on unmarked dirt roads.
Mexico’s Copper Canyon, if you haven’t heard of it before, is a massive canyon that’s technically larger and deeper than the US Grand Canyon. It is the perfect hiding place for fields of illegally grown opium poppies & marijuana plants!
Combine this fact with a desperately poor workforce of indigenous people called the Tarahumara, and you’ve got a Mexican drug lord’s wet dream.
This is where I found myself.
On the edge of the Golden Triangle, in a village controlled by the Sinaloa Cartel.
The Only Bridge Into Town
A Surreal Travel Experience
As we pull into the village, over a narrow bridge, I see a kid talking into a military-style radio. He’s announcing our arrival to the cartel. My heart begins to race.
Further down the road, we pass a group of men dressed in black, armed with assault rifles. I begin to sweat.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…
Fede notices my apprehension and assures me everything will be ok. I’m not the first tourist to visit this town.
Because the cartel doesn’t want to draw any attention to themselves, they’d never harm a tourist. That would force the military to intervene and ruin everything.
I check into my guesthouse, the only one in town, and we eat lunch at his friend’s place, which is basically a small restaurant run out of her home.
One of the Cartel’s Trucks
Keeping Tabs On Me…
Fede says his goodbyes and leaves town. He has to go back to work. So I’m on my own now. I walk around town. I visit some abandoned silver mines nearby.
I stop into the local museum and sign the guestbook (the last signature is over a month old).
I pass by the group of cartel members I saw earlier. We say hello to each other. While they certainly appear to fit the stereotype of hardened criminals, they seem friendly enough.
I still can’t quite believe this is happening.
My goal for the day is to visit an old Spanish Mission, located a few miles out of town. On the way, I run into a pickup truck with blacked-out windows on the side of the road. As I approach, the driver’s side window rolls down.
“¿A dónde vas?” says a large scary dude in a cowboy hat. There’s a beautiful woman half his age in the passenger seat.
“La misión Española” I reply. He nods, and the window slides back up. They’re keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don’t stumble into their fields of poppy or marijuana.
Friendly Mexican Drug Farmer
This Sack is Full of Weed…
Everyone Works For The Cartel
Over the next few days, I learn that basically the whole town is working for the cartel. They are the sole employer.
I’m not sure if it’s by choice, or by the threat of violence, but growing and trafficking drugs for the cartel is how this town survives.
And some of them are not afraid to talk about it. Growing marijuana is as normal as growing corn. It’s just another crop — only one that pays much better.
After chatting with one local farmer for a while, he takes me up to a small barn behind his house, pulls out a large sack, and offers me two giant handfuls of freshly picked marijuana buds!
I start laughing, thanking him for his generosity, but explain that there’s no way I can bring his gift back into the United States with me.
But… because I’m a polite guy, I accept a few flowers so he isn’t offended.
This man isn’t some murderous cartel member, he’s just a friendly, impoverished farmer trying to make a living for his family with very limited opportunities.
Making Friends in Town
More & More Ridiculous
So while the whole cartel situation had me feeling pretty nervous, this next part was the scariest moment of the whole few days I was down there.
My comfort level had been improving. I was getting used to chatting with cartel members each day. Maybe too comfortable.
One evening, a young Mexican guy dressed like a rodeo cowboy walks into the home-based restaurant where I’m eating dinner.
He’s wearing a pair of beautiful, very fancy white-handled revolvers on his hip. Like right out of your typical Spaghetti Western movie.
A heavily armed bodyguard wearing a bullet-proof vest waits for him outside.
We happily chat for a minute in Spanish, asking how I like the food, before they both disappear into the darkness of night. This is seriously feeling like I’m caught in the middle of a movie.
On another occasion, I watch a team of five armed men loading blue 55-gallon drums of something from a truck into a guarded building.
Weed? Opium poppies? Human remains dissolving in acid? My imagination starts to run wild…
Sinaloa Cartel Members (Faces Censored for Safety)
Getting The Shot
I REALLY wanted a photo of one of these guys. No one would believe all this happened to me unless I had a photo!
So the next morning, I cut a small hole into the side of my backpack and tape a GoPro inside. My plan is to use “time-lapse” mode, quietly shooting photos automatically as I walk past them.
However as I approach, I decide to stop and chat. With my adrenaline pumping, I simply ask them directly. Pointing at the camera around my neck. What’s the worst that could happen?
“¿Puedo tomar tu retrato?” (Can I take your portrait?) – Me
“Jajaja… no.” – Cartel Dude #1
“Please? My American friends back home would love to see your big gun. I can leave your face out of it if you’d like.” – Me
“Jajaja… no. But you can get a photo of my amigo here.” – Cartel Dude #1
So, without thinking about the consequences, I aim my wide-angle lens at the truck driver sitting next to him. *CLICK*
Cartel Dude #1 is in the photo too, but just doesn’t realize it.
Immediately I start to panic — internally. What if he asks to see the photo? That was so dumb! I’m going to get myself killed. Maybe I can quickly use the zoom button before showing it to him…
Fortunatley he never asks — and just assumes the camera wasn’t aimed his way.
I try to act normal, end the conversation, and walk off down the road contemplating just how stupid that was.
I think it’s time for me to leave this town.
Patrolling the Village
Mexico’s Remote Golden Triangle
Cartel Wars In The Mountains
As someone who has spent almost 2 years of my life both living and traveling through Mexico, I’ll be the first to tell you it’s one of my favorite countries.
I certainly don’t want my story to scare you from visiting Mexico. This is NOT a typical Mexican vacation experience.
I specifically went out of my way to visit a remote area that isn’t very safe. Even for the Copper Canyon itself — if you stay on the normal tourist trail you’ll be fine.
However if you venture off-grid in this region, there’s a lot of sh*t going on.
Mexico is an amazing and beautiful destination, but like any country, it can also be a dangerous one if you go looking for danger.
Golden Triangle In Flames Again (Borderland Beat)
Extreme Race in the Shadow of Extreme Danger (New York Times)
Drug Gangs Delay Sierra Trail Riders (My San Antonio)
One particular story that shook me recently was the murder of North Carolina teacher Patrick Braxton-Andrew, who was visiting a similar remote village in the same region last year.
That one hit close to home. A curious traveler looking for adventure, trying to get off the beaten path, exploring a dangerous area on his own… mistaken for a DEA agent and shot.
When I first started traveling, I did many risky and stupid things seeking that addictive jolt of adrenaline. Hell, I haven’t completely cured myself of it even now!
Luckily everything has turned out ok so far, and I have some pretty incredible memories and stories to show for it.
But that isn’t always the case for everyone.
My Scariest Travel Story
I’m not sure if there is a lesson in this story. Maybe there are many.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes? Young people traveling with no responsibilities often take unnecessary risks for fun? Don’t be an idiot like me?
I’m sure I’ll be judged and ridiculed a bit for writing about this. That’s ok. It happened, and I have to live with it. I’m probably lucky to be living at all…
Have you ever done anything stupid like this while traveling? Taken on too much risk? Gotten yourself into a sticky situation that you regret later?
Frequent travelers have this insufferable tendency to “one-up” each other’s travel stories — and this one is mine. The one I share at bars after a few drinks.
Now it’s your turn to share.
Take a minute to quickly describe your scariest/dumb travel story.
If only to make me feel like I’m not the only one out there who’s done something stupid on the road…
Maybe we can turn it into a guide on “what-not-to-do while traveling.” ★
READ MORE TRAVEL TIPS
My 50 Best Tips After 9 Years Traveling Is Instagram Ruining Travel? How To Take Better Travel Photos Why I Quit Being A Digital Nomad Tips For Starting A Travel Blog
What’s your scariest travel story? Have you ever done something dangerous or stupid while traveling? Drop me a message in the comments below!
This is a post from The Expert Vagabond adventure blog.
from Tips For Traveling https://expertvagabond.com/scary-travel-story-cartel/
0 notes
kevingbakeruk · 5 years
Text
My Run-In With A Notorious Mexican Drug Cartel
My Craziest Travel Story
Somewhere In Mexico…
This is the story of how I accidentally wandered into an extremely remote Mexican village that was openly controlled by a ruthless drug cartel — and what happened next.
No, this is not an April fools post. Posted April 2nd!
The other week I was taking an Uber from the airport, chatting with the driver about traveling and working around the world as a nomad.
After asking the standard question everyone asks “what’s your favorite country”, he wanted to know if I’ve ever felt in any danger while traveling.
Sure, I’ve been scared before.
When I crossed the border into Afghanistan by myself on foot.
Balancing on rusty beams 300 feet over a canyon in Spain.
Attempting to wade across a crocodile-infested river in Costa Rica.
Scuba diving without a cage in Fiji face-to-face with bull sharks.
Spending the night on an erupting volcano in Guatemala.
Illegally hopping a freight train while hitchhiking across America.
Yes, looking back, I’ve done some stupid & risky stuff over the years…
But the most scared I’ve ever been — was on a journey through Northern Mexico about 7 years ago. And it’s a story I’ve NEVER shared on this blog.
I wrestled with writing about this experience for a long time.
It just didn’t feel appropriate to share publicly, or even very safe for that matter. I was worried about the possible consequences for myself and others.
Yet I think enough time has passed that I finally feel comfortable sharing my crazy (and pretty dumb) encounter with dangerous members of a notorious drug cartel in the lawless mountains deep within Mexico’s Copper Canyon.
Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.
The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains
Once Upon A Time In Mexico…
My tale begins in the Mexican tourist town of Creel. A major stop for the popular Copper Canyon Train which runs from the cities of Chihuahua through the Sierra Tarahumara mountains to Los Mochis on the coast.
After a very scenic (but uneventful) train journey through the mountains, I planned to explore more of this mountainous area on my own. Hoping to spend time with the Tarahumara, a Mexican indigenous group.
While chatting with locals, I learned of small villages at the bottom of the canyon that would present a more “authentic” Northern Mexican experience. Off-the-beaten-path if you will.
These places were not easy to reach, and the drive would take hours on rough mountain roads. I mentioned my plan to a local guy (let’s call him Fede) who I’d worked with earlier, and he offered to take me in his vehicle.
Fede wasn’t just some random dude. I’d already spent a few days traveling with him. Even crashing overnight at his family’s house. He was a well-known tourism professional. I trusted him completely.
Rugged Dirt Roads in Mexico
Surprises Down In The Canyon
I’m not going to name the specific village I traveled to in this story. However, I’m sure if you dig deep enough, you’ll probably be able to figure it out.
Because it’s not like what goes on down there isn’t unknown within Mexico.
Over the course of our 4+ hour drive down winding dirt roads into the depths of the Copper Canyon, Fede starts to share some unsettling information with me.
“When we get there, you may see some stuff that’s alarming. But don’t worry. They know you’re coming.” – Fede
“Wait, what?! What kind of stuff? Who knows I’m coming?” – Me
“The Cartel. They control this town. But when the guesthouse has a tourist, the owner informs The Cartel. They won’t bother you as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” – Fede
“……….” – Me
The Cartel he was referring to is the Sinaloa Cartel. Aka Cártel de Sinaloa, aka the Guzmán-Loera Organization, aka The Blood Alliance.
The same cartel controlled by the notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, who was just on trial in the United States for drug trafficking, murder, and money laundering.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
The Golden Triangle – Drug Production Area in Mexico
Mexico’s Golden Triangle
The Golden Triangle is the nickname given to a remote and mountainous region in Northern Mexico that encompasses the states of Chihuahua, Sinaloa, and Durango.
It’s where Mexico’s powerful cartels have been growing billions of dollars worth of heroin & weed to supply an insatiable demand for drugs from the United States.
Cartels are able to produce drugs in the Golden Triangle because the area is so rugged & inaccessible that it can take hours to reach these small villages on unmarked dirt roads.
Mexico’s Copper Canyon, if you haven’t heard of it before, is a massive canyon that’s technically larger and deeper than the US Grand Canyon. It is the perfect hiding place for fields of illegally grown opium poppies & marijuana plants!
Combine this fact with a desperately poor workforce of indigenous people called the Tarahumara, and you’ve got a Mexican drug lord’s wet dream.
This is where I found myself.
On the edge of the Golden Triangle, in a village controlled by the Sinaloa Cartel.
The Only Bridge Into Town
A Surreal Travel Experience
As we pull into the village, over a narrow bridge, I see a kid talking into a military-style radio. He’s announcing our arrival to the cartel. My heart begins to race.
Further down the road, we pass a group of men dressed in black, armed with assault rifles. I begin to sweat.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…
Fede notices my apprehension and assures me everything will be ok. I’m not the first tourist to visit this town.
Because the cartel doesn’t want to draw any attention to themselves, they’d never harm a tourist. That would force the military to intervene and ruin everything.
I check into my guesthouse, the only one in town, and we eat lunch at his friend’s place, which is basically a small restaurant run out of her home.
One of the Cartel’s Trucks
Keeping Tabs On Me…
Fede says his goodbyes and leaves town. He has to go back to work. So I’m on my own now. I walk around town. I visit some abandoned silver mines nearby.
I stop into the local museum and sign the guestbook (the last signature is over a month old).
I pass by the group of cartel members I saw earlier. We say hello to each other. While they certainly appear to fit the stereotype of hardened criminals, they seem friendly enough.
I still can’t quite believe this is happening.
My goal for the day is to visit an old Spanish Mission, located a few miles out of town. On the way, I run into a pickup truck with blacked-out windows on the side of the road. As I approach, the driver’s side window rolls down.
“¿A dónde vas?” says a large scary dude in a cowboy hat. There’s a beautiful woman half his age in the passenger seat.
“La misión Española” I reply. He nods, and the window slides back up. They’re keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don’t stumble into their fields of poppy or marijuana.
Friendly Mexican Drug Farmer
This Sack is Full of Weed…
Everyone Works For The Cartel
Over the next few days, I learn that basically the whole town is working for the cartel. They are the sole employer.
I’m not sure if it’s by choice, or by the threat of violence, but growing and trafficking drugs for the cartel is how this town survives.
And some of them are not afraid to talk about it. Growing marijuana is as normal as growing corn. It’s just another crop — only one that pays much better.
After chatting with one local farmer for a while, he takes me up to a small barn behind his house, pulls out a large sack, and offers me two giant handfuls of freshly picked marijuana buds!
I start laughing, thanking him for his generosity, but explain that there’s no way I can bring his gift back into the United States with me.
But because I’m a polite guy, I accept a few flowers so he isn’t offended.
This man isn’t some murderous cartel member, he’s just a friendly, impoverished farmer trying to make a living for his family with very limited opportunities.
Making Friends in Town
More & More Ridiculous
So while the whole cartel situation had me feeling pretty nervous, this next part was the scariest moment of the whole few days I was down there.
My comfort level had been improving. I was getting used to chatting with cartel members each day. Maybe too comfortable.
One evening, a young Mexican guy dressed like a rodeo cowboy walks into the home-based restaurant where I’m eating dinner.
He’s wearing a pair of beautiful, very fancy white-handled revolvers on his hip. Like right out of your typical Spaghetti Western movie.
A heavily armed bodyguard wearing a bullet-proof vest waits for him outside.
We happily chat for a minute in Spanish, asking how I like the food, before they both disappear into the darkness of night. This is seriously feeling like I’m caught in the middle of a movie.
On another occasion, I watch a team of five armed men loading blue 55-gallon drums of something from a truck into a guarded building.
Weed? Opium poppies? Human remains dissolving in acid? My imagination starts to run wild…
Sinaloa Cartel Members (Faces Censored for Safety)
Getting The Shot
I REALLY wanted a photo of one of these guys. No one would believe all this happened to me unless I had a photo!
So the next morning, I cut a small hole into the side of my backpack and tape a GoPro inside. My plan is to use “time-lapse” mode, quietly shooting photos automatically as I walk past them.
However as I approach, I decide to stop and chat. With my adrenaline pumping, I simply ask them directly. Pointing at the camera around my neck. What’s the worst that could happen?
“¿Puedo tomar tu retrato?” (Can I take your portrait?) – Me
“Jajaja… no.” – Cartel Dude #1
“Please? My American friends back home would love to see your big gun. I can leave your face out of it if you’d like.” – Me
“Jajaja… no. But you can get a photo of my amigo here.” – Cartel Dude #1
So, without thinking about the consequences, I aim my wide-angle lens at the truck driver sitting next to him. *CLICK*
Cartel Dude #1 is in the photo too, but just doesn’t realize it.
Immediately I start to panic — internally. What if he asks to see the photo? That was so dumb! I’m going to get myself killed. Maybe I can quickly use the zoom button before showing it to him…
Fortunatley he never asks — and just assumes the camera wasn’t aimed his way.
I try to act normal, end the conversation, and walk off down the road contemplating just how stupid that was.
I think it’s time for me to leave this town.
Patrolling the Village
Mexico’s Remote Golden Triangle
Cartel Wars In The Mountains
As someone who has spent almost 2 years of my life both living and traveling through Mexico, I’ll be the first to tell you it’s one of my favorite countries.
I certainly don’t want my story to scare you from visiting Mexico. This is NOT a typical Mexican vacation experience.
I specifically went out of my way to visit a remote area that isn’t very safe. Even for the Copper Canyon itself — if you stay on the normal tourist trail you’ll be fine.
However if you venture off-grid in this region, there’s a lot of sh*t going on.
Mexico is an amazing and beautiful destination, but like any country, it can also be a dangerous one if you go looking for danger.
Golden Triangle In Flames Again (Borderland Beat)
Extreme Race in the Shadow of Extreme Danger (New York Times)
Drug Gangs Delay Sierra Trail Riders (My San Antonio)
One particular story that shook me recently was the murder of North Carolina teacher Patrick Braxton-Andrew, who was visiting a similar remote village in the same region last year.
That one hit close to home. A curious traveler looking for adventure, trying to get off the beaten path, exploring a dangerous area on his own… mistaken for a DEA agent and shot.
When I first started traveling, I did many risky and stupid things seeking that addictive jolt of adrenaline. Hell, I haven’t completely cured myself of it even now!
Luckily everything has turned out ok so far, and I have some pretty incredible memories and stories to show for it.
But that isn’t always the case for everyone.
My Scariest Travel Story
I’m not sure if there is a lesson in this story. Maybe there are many.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes? Young people traveling with no responsibilities often take unnecessary risks for fun? Don’t be an idiot like me?
I’m sure I’ll be judged and ridiculed a bit for writing about this. That’s ok. It happened, and I have to live with it. I’m probably lucky to be living at all…
Have you ever done anything stupid like this while traveling? Taken on too much risk? Gotten yourself into a sticky situation that you regret later?
Frequent travelers have this insufferable tendency to “one-up” each other’s travel stories — and this one is mine. The one I share at bars after a few drinks.
Now it’s your turn to share.
Take a minute to quickly describe your scariest/dumb travel story.
If only to make me feel like I’m not the only one out there who’s done something stupid on the road…
Maybe we can turn it into a guide on “what-not-to-do while traveling.” ★
READ MORE TRAVEL TIPS
My 50 Best Tips After 9 Years Traveling Is Instagram Ruining Travel? How To Take Better Travel Photos Why I Quit Being A Digital Nomad Tips For Starting A Travel Blog
What’s your scariest travel story? Have you ever done something dangerous or stupid while traveling? Drop me a message in the comments below!
This is a post from The Expert Vagabond adventure blog.
from Tips For Traveling https://expertvagabond.com/scary-travel-story-cartel/
0 notes
marymperezga · 5 years
Text
My Run-In With A Notorious Mexican Drug Cartel
My Craziest Travel Story
Somewhere In Mexico…
This is the story of how I accidentally wandered into an extremely remote Mexican village that was openly controlled by a ruthless drug cartel — and what happened next.
No, this is not an April fools post. Posted April 2nd!
The other week I was taking an Uber from the airport, chatting with the driver about traveling and working around the world as a nomad.
After asking the standard question everyone asks “what’s your favorite country”, he wanted to know if I’ve ever felt in any danger while traveling.
Sure, I’ve been scared before.
When I crossed the border into Afghanistan by myself on foot.
Balancing on rusty beams 300 feet over a canyon in Spain.
Attempting to wade across a crocodile-infested river in Costa Rica.
Scuba diving without a cage in Fiji face-to-face with bull sharks.
Spending the night on an erupting volcano in Guatemala.
Illegally hopping a freight train while hitchhiking across America.
Yes, looking back, I’ve done some stupid & risky stuff over the years…
But the most scared I’ve ever been — was on a journey through Northern Mexico about 7 years ago. And it’s a story I’ve NEVER shared on this blog.
I wrestled with writing about this experience for a long time.
It just didn’t feel appropriate to share publicly, or even very safe for that matter. I was worried about the possible consequences for myself and others.
Yet I think enough time has passed that I finally feel comfortable sharing my crazy (and pretty dumb) encounter with dangerous members of a notorious drug cartel in the lawless mountains deep within Mexico’s Copper Canyon.
Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.
The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains
Once Upon A Time In Mexico…
My tale begins in the Mexican tourist town of Creel. A major stop for the popular Copper Canyon Train which runs from the cities of Chihuahua through the Sierra Tarahumara mountains to Los Mochis on the coast.
After a very scenic (but uneventful) train journey through the mountains, I planned to explore more of this mountainous area on my own. Hoping to spend time with the Tarahumara, a Mexican indigenous group.
While chatting with locals, I learned of small villages at the bottom of the canyon that would present a more “authentic” Northern Mexican experience. Off-the-beaten-path if you will.
These places were not easy to reach, and the drive would take hours on rough mountain roads. I mentioned my plan to a local guy (let’s call him Fede) who I’d worked with earlier, and he offered to take me in his vehicle.
Fede wasn’t just some random dude. I’d already spent a few days traveling with him. Even crashing overnight at his family’s house. He was a well-known tourism professional. I trusted him completely.
Rugged Dirt Roads in Mexico
Surprises Down In The Canyon
I’m not going to name the specific village I traveled to in this story. However, I’m sure if you dig deep enough, you’ll probably be able to figure it out.
Because it’s not like what goes on down there isn’t unknown within Mexico.
Over the course of our 4+ hour drive down winding dirt roads into the depths of the Copper Canyon, Fede starts to share some unsettling information with me.
“When we get there, you may see some stuff that’s alarming. But don’t worry. They know you’re coming.” – Fede
“Wait, what?! What kind of stuff? Who knows I’m coming?” – Me
“The Cartel. They control this town. But when the guesthouse has a tourist, the owner informs The Cartel. They won’t bother you as long as you don’t do anything stupid.” – Fede
“……….” – Me
The Cartel he was referring to is the Sinaloa Cartel. Aka Cártel de Sinaloa, aka the Guzmán-Loera Organization, aka The Blood Alliance.
The same cartel controlled by the notorious drug lord Joaquin “El Chapo” Guzman, who was just on trial in the United States for drug trafficking, murder, and money laundering.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
The Golden Triangle – Drug Production Area in Mexico
Mexico’s Golden Triangle
The Golden Triangle is the nickname given to a remote and mountainous region in Northern Mexico that encompasses the states of Chihuahua, Sinaloa, and Durango.
It’s where Mexico’s powerful cartels have been growing billions of dollars worth of heroin & weed to supply an insatiable demand for drugs from the United States.
Cartels are able to produce drugs in the Golden Triangle because the area is so rugged & inaccessible that it can take hours to reach these small villages on unmarked dirt roads.
Mexico’s Copper Canyon, if you haven’t heard of it before, is a massive canyon that’s technically larger and deeper than the US Grand Canyon. It is the perfect hiding place for fields of illegally grown opium poppies & marijuana plants!
Combine this fact with a desperately poor workforce of indigenous people called the Tarahumara, and you’ve got a Mexican drug lord’s wet dream.
This is where I found myself.
On the edge of the Golden Triangle, in a village controlled by the Sinaloa Cartel.
The Only Bridge Into Town
A Surreal Travel Experience
As we pull into the village, over a narrow bridge, I see a kid talking into a military-style radio. He’s announcing our arrival to the cartel. My heart begins to race.
Further down the road, we pass a group of men dressed in black, armed with assault rifles. I begin to sweat.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…
Fede notices my apprehension and assures me everything will be ok. I’m not the first tourist to visit this town.
Because the cartel doesn’t want to draw any attention to themselves, they’d never harm a tourist. That would force the military to intervene and ruin everything.
I check into my guesthouse, the only one in town, and we eat lunch at his friend’s place, which is basically a small restaurant run out of her home.
One of the Cartel’s Trucks
Keeping Tabs On Me…
Fede says his goodbyes and leaves town. He has to go back to work. So I’m on my own now. I walk around town. I visit some abandoned silver mines nearby.
I stop into the local museum and sign the guestbook (the last signature is over a month old).
I pass by the group of cartel members I saw earlier. We say hello to each other. While they certainly appear to fit the stereotype of hardened criminals, they seem friendly enough.
I still can’t quite believe this is happening.
My goal for the day is to visit an old Spanish Mission, located a few miles out of town. On the way, I run into a pickup truck with blacked-out windows on the side of the road. As I approach, the driver’s side window rolls down.
“¿A dónde vas?” says a large scary dude in a cowboy hat. There’s a beautiful woman half his age in the passenger seat.
“La misión Española” I reply. He nods, and the window slides back up. They’re keeping an eye on me. Making sure I don’t stumble into their fields of poppy or marijuana.
Friendly Mexican Drug Farmer
This Sack is Full of Weed…
Everyone Works For The Cartel
Over the next few days, I learn that basically the whole town is working for the cartel. They are the sole employer.
I’m not sure if it’s by choice, or by the threat of violence, but growing and trafficking drugs for the cartel is how this town survives.
And some of them are not afraid to talk about it. Growing marijuana is as normal as growing corn. It’s just another crop — only one that pays much better.
After chatting with one local farmer for a while, he takes me up to a small barn behind his house, pulls out a large sack, and offers me two giant handfuls of freshly picked marijuana buds!
I start laughing, thanking him for his generosity, but explain that there’s no way I can bring his gift back into the United States with me.
But because I’m a polite guy, I accept a few flowers so he isn’t offended.
This man isn’t some murderous cartel member, he’s just a friendly, impoverished farmer trying to make a living for his family with very limited opportunities.
Making Friends in Town
More & More Ridiculous
So while the whole cartel situation had me feeling pretty nervous, this next part was the scariest moment of the whole few days I was down there.
My comfort level had been improving. I was getting used to chatting with cartel members each day. Maybe too comfortable.
One evening, a young Mexican guy dressed like a rodeo cowboy walks into the home-based restaurant where I’m eating dinner.
He’s wearing a pair of beautiful, very fancy white-handled revolvers on his hip. Like right out of your typical Spaghetti Western movie.
A heavily armed bodyguard wearing a bullet-proof vest waits for him outside.
We happily chat for a minute in Spanish, asking how I like the food, before they both disappear into the darkness of night. This is seriously feeling like I’m caught in the middle of a movie.
On another occasion, I watch a team of five armed men loading blue 55-gallon drums of something from a truck into a guarded building.
Weed? Opium poppies? Human remains dissolving in acid? My imagination starts to run wild…
Sinaloa Cartel Members (Faces Censored for Safety)
Getting The Shot
I REALLY wanted a photo of one of these guys. No one would believe all this happened to me unless I had a photo!
So the next morning, I cut a small hole into the side of my backpack and tape a GoPro inside. My plan is to use “time-lapse” mode, quietly shooting photos automatically as I walk past them.
However as I approach, I decide to stop and chat. With my adrenaline pumping, I simply ask them directly. Pointing at the camera around my neck. What’s the worst that could happen?
“¿Puedo tomar tu retrato?” (Can I take your portrait?) – Me
“Jajaja… no.” – Cartel Dude #1
“Please? My American friends back home would love to see your big gun. I can leave your face out of it if you’d like.” – Me
“Jajaja… no. But you can get a photo of my amigo here.” – Cartel Dude #1
So, without thinking about the consequences, I aim my wide-angle lens at the truck driver sitting next to him. *CLICK*
Cartel Dude #1 is in the photo too, but just doesn’t realize it.
Immediately I start to panic — internally. What if he asks to see the photo? That was so dumb! I’m going to get myself killed. Maybe I can quickly use the zoom button before showing it to him…
Fortunatley he never asks — and just assumes the camera wasn’t aimed his way.
I try to act normal, end the conversation, and walk off down the road contemplating just how stupid that was.
I think it’s time for me to leave this town.
Patrolling the Village
Mexico’s Remote Golden Triangle
Cartel Wars In The Mountains
As someone who has spent almost 2 years of my life both living and traveling through Mexico, I’ll be the first to tell you it’s one of my favorite countries.
I certainly don’t want my story to scare you from visiting Mexico. This is NOT a typical Mexican vacation experience.
I specifically went out of my way to visit a remote area that isn’t very safe. Even for the Copper Canyon itself — if you stay on the normal tourist trail you’ll be fine.
However if you venture off-grid in this region, there’s a lot of sh*t going on.
Mexico is an amazing and beautiful destination, but like any country, it can also be a dangerous one if you go looking for danger.
Golden Triangle In Flames Again (Borderland Beat)
Extreme Race in the Shadow of Extreme Danger (New York Times)
Drug Gangs Delay Sierra Trail Riders (My San Antonio)
One particular story that shook me recently was the murder of North Carolina teacher Patrick Braxton-Andrew, who was visiting a similar remote village in the same region last year.
That one hit close to home. A curious traveler looking for adventure, trying to get off the beaten path, exploring a dangerous area on his own… mistaken for a DEA agent and shot.
When I first started traveling, I did many risky and stupid things seeking that addictive jolt of adrenaline. Hell, I haven’t completely cured myself of it even now!
Luckily everything has turned out ok so far, and I have some pretty incredible memories and stories to show for it.
But that isn’t always the case for everyone.
My Scariest Travel Story
I’m not sure if there is a lesson in this story. Maybe there are many.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes? Young people traveling with no responsibilities often take unnecessary risks for fun? Don’t be an idiot like me?
I’m sure I’ll be judged and ridiculed a bit for writing about this. That’s ok. It happened, and I have to live with it. I’m probably lucky to be living at all…
Have you ever done anything stupid like this while traveling? Taken on too much risk? Gotten yourself into a sticky situation that you regret later?
Frequent travelers have this insufferable tendency to “one-up” each other’s travel stories — and this one is mine. The one I share at bars after a few drinks.
Now it’s your turn to share.
Take a minute to quickly describe your scariest/dumb travel story.
If only to make me feel like I’m not the only one out there who’s done something stupid on the road…
Maybe we can turn it into a guide on “what-not-to-do while traveling.” ★
READ MORE TRAVEL TIPS
My 50 Best Tips After 9 Years Traveling Is Instagram Ruining Travel? How To Take Better Travel Photos Why I Quit Being A Digital Nomad Tips For Starting A Travel Blog
What’s your scariest travel story? Have you ever done something dangerous or stupid while traveling? Drop me a message in the comments below!
This is a post from The Expert Vagabond adventure blog.
from Tips For Traveling https://expertvagabond.com/scary-travel-story-cartel/
0 notes