Fond memories of Mexico...

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Escrito por GK desde ( el día domingo, 03 de julio, 2005 a las 12:32:57 horas :

Not related to Zihua...but some of you might enjoy this lighthearted visit I made to Mexico roughly 25 years ago...

For a number of years, a group of my fishing buddies and I would make an annual trip to Lake Vicente Guerrero in Northern Mexico to take advantage of the spectacular Bass fishing the lake was famous for providing. Fortunately for us, we were never disappointed and catches of 75-100 Bass per day was our average on most of these trips. We would always camp on the south end of the lake at a quaint little campground called "Chico's camp", south of the Mexican city of Victoria. Camping at "Chicos" was rustic, to say the least, but it was cheap and Chico (the owner) always seemed glad to see us. We felt safe and secure at his place, so it became our annual destination.

On one trip in the late 1970's, we had a pretty large group including my brother and his 2 sons who had driven all the way from Albany, GA to fish Lake Guerrero. All in all I would say that we had 14 or 15 men and boys on this excursion. Upon arriving at the camp, we were met by Chico, who told us where to pitch our tents, and even assigned us two of his famous "Beer Can" Cabanas (or Palapa I believe it is called in Zihua). This was actually 4 poles stuck in the ground, with a frame around the top, covered by layers of palm branches for a roof, and walls made out of multiple strings of beer and soft drink cans hanging from the roof. They were functional, but pretty noisy if the wind blew any harder than just a gentle breeze.

As we were setting up camp, Chico came over and told us that there was a large Brahma Bull, that occasionally wandered into the camping area, and he had been known to steal food from the campers...especially bread and vegetables. Naturally, we tried to put all of the food up at night before going to bed, and the first night or two, the bull never paid us a visit. About the third night, however, someone got careless and left a grocery bag on the picnic table inside the "Beer Can" cabana... and you guessed it, we got a visitor in the middle of the night. Sometime around 2:00 AM, I was awakened from a deep sleep by my fishing buddy who was camping with me. "Wake up...something is in our camp....and it's eating our food!!!", he whispered as he shook me awake. Still only half awake, I looked out the window of my pickup camper and what I saw was the back half of the biggest Brahma Bull I've ever seen, not 20 feet from my camper. The Bull had stuck his head through the beer can strings of our Cabana, and was steadily chowing down on our food, with only his back end sticking out. Not knowing exactly what to do, and still half asleep, I sat there fascinated watching this Bull devouring our groceries.

Suddenly, in the pale moonlight I caught a glimpse of my 14 yr old nephew Chris, poking his head out of his tent. (Chris, being a typical teenager, had brought along a Wrist Rocket - which is a high powered slingshot that shoots little steel balls - and had shown his skill earlier by making war on the bird population of Chico's camp for the first two days). I watched in what seemed like slow motion as he stepped out of the tent, walked up to within 20 or 30 paces of the Bull's rear end... pointed his wrist rocket... and took deadly aim at the most exposed part of the bull's maleness sticking out of the cabana, and let fly with a well placed shot. The stillness of the Mexican night was shattered by the next sound I heard...

"KATHUNK" then a deep bellowing "OOMPH" , the stillness of the night was shattered by a series of loud angry snorts and a loud painful wailing sound.... immediately followed by the loudest commotion you could imagine, as the bull charged out of the other side of the cabana, dragging half of the beer can wall with him, and bellowing at the top of his lungs. Obviously in great pain, the angry Bull almost totally destroyed Chico's prized "Beer Can" Cabana. As if this was not hilarious enough, Senor Bull, still bellowing loudly and trailing strings of beer cans behind him, took off in a straight line, charging through the rest of the camp scattering campers in all directions. In the process, he proceeded to knock down and drag 3 or 4 tents with him as he made his loud and hasty retreat. Needless to say, this onslaught of bellowing and strings of beer cans clanging off the trees left a number of the campers scratching their heads and wondering if World War III had just started.

Fortunately, there were no serious injuries...oh, maybe a sprained ankle or two, and our sides hurting from laughing so much, but looking back on that night in Northern Mexico, I would have to say that Senor Bull (with a little help from my nephew Chris) definitely got the attention of Chico's campers that night. After retrieving their flattened tents, and re-living the spectacle again and again, it was at least a couple of hours before anyone in Chico's camp got back to sleep again, and oh yes...we still managed to catch our 75-100 fish each the next day. Such was the good old days on Lake Guerrero.


Two years after that Guerrero trip, Chris tragically lost his life in a motorcycle accident. We have many fond memories of his childhood, but we will always cherish and remember his night of glory and his hilarious encounter with "Senor Bull".

[posted by webmaster for GK]

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