How we spent our 2011 Christmas vacation in the Sierra Madre IV – the End

No stinkin' badges

Continued from last post…

Herman and Armando must have spent nearly two hours combing the woods for us. But we were lying low, and hoping they would not come our way.

“Mountain lions in these here whereabouts,” whispered Jim, “so keep your eyes and ears open.”

“Mountain lions?” repeated Matthew.

“Snakes too,” whispered Jim.

“C’mon now, Jim, it’s bad enough just with these guys,” I said.

“Well, I was hearin’ some noises back in the woods,” explained Jim.

Finally Herman and Armando gave up. They went back to near where our truck was parked and lit a fire.

“Geez,” said Matthew, “those guys are setting fire to our truck!”

“Oh, my God,” said Jim.

Once, however, when the flames died down, we could make out that our truck was okay and that Herman and Armando were just setting up a simple campfire.

We waited and waited. The fire kept flickering and I kept thinking how warm it was in our house way far off in Mexicali.

We were so cold we were going into hypothermia.

Herman and Armando, drinking by their fire, had to be so drunk they were out of their minds by now.

Sooner or later they were bound to pass out—we hoped.

Slowly we made our way out of the deep forest and walked very slowly and quietly through the woods toward the firelight.

As we neared them we could see that they had parked their truck to block the exit road that went out of the camp. Between their truck and our truck was their campfire. Finally we could see that Herman and Armando were lying down—hopefully asleep.

We started creeping on all fours, moving as silently as we could from one tree to the next, making our way toward our truck.

Finally we reached our truck. We about twenty feet away from the sleeping bodies of Herman and Armando, separated from them only by their dying campfire.

Suddenly, Armando woke up. He tossed another branch on the fire from his blankets, and laid down grunting.

We waited without moving until we saw the first signs of daylight.

Down on all fours again, our hearts pounding, we crawled over to the truck. Slowly, Jim opened the driver’s side door and we eased into the front seat.

Jim turned on the ignition. The truck wouldn’t start due to the cold. He waited what seemed a lifetime, and then tried again. Suddenly, the engine started. Jim gunned the truck and backed up quickly then we swung past their truck. Herman and Armando rose sleepily out of their blankets looking bleary and confused.

We raced up the hill to get out of the camp, expecting to see their truck in the rearview mirror.

Guess what—we never saw them again.

As we sped on to safety, Matthew said, “You know, my favorite movie was The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.”

“Yeah, I remember it,” I said.

Matthew continued, “Didn’t Armando look just like the guy in that movie that said, ‘I ain’t got no stinkin’ badge.”

“Quiet, Matthew,” said Jim, “I gotta keep my eye on the road out of this place.”

We drove down the mountains on treacherous Highway 40 west to Mazatlan, up the coast through Culiacan, to Hermosillo, and on to Caborca, to San Luis Rio Colorado, and finally to Mexicali. The total trip was over 1,100 miles and took just about 24 hours.

We didn’t stop, except for gas, until we made it all the way home so catch the sunrise in Mexicali.