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nickki-d-k · 8 years ago

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Trolls thing I'm writing

Ok so I've finished the first chapter of a Trolls thing I'm writing which I'm calling "Night and Day" (vague title I know), I plan on unloading it to Archive, I just haven't yet. This literally takes place right after the movie.. Like right after. Bare with me, I'm not a writer. Grammer is my enemy and words aren't good friends of mine either. Oh and it typed this on my phone so I'm now realizing the "thought italics" aren't showing up on tumblr so I apologize if some sentences don't come off as thoughts, but here's the first chapter of "Night and Day". Giggling. Yes, Branch was sure "giggling" was the appropriate word to describe the loud strange hiccup like laughs currently escaping his mouth. It's not that he'd never heard a giggle before, knowing Poppy all his life made that an impossibility. This, however, was the first time he could remember hearing himself do it. This felt foreign to him. Absurd even. But he just couldn't help it...nor did he seem to care. From high up on their elevated mushroom platform, Branch now gripped his sides as the laughter overtook him, transferring a giddy energy to his rhythmic feet as they watched their weird new moment-ruining cloud friend plummet to a fate unknown, the product of being tandem high fived out of the sky by the two trolls. He’ll be fine. He’s a cloud after all. “I still don’t get the whole socks with no shoes thing.” He smirked. Poppy looked at him quizzically, and then down in the direction the cloud guy fell, genuinely pondering the statement for a moment. “Well, if you’re up in the sky most of the time… Why would you need shoes?“ she quipped with a smirk. A quiet “Huh.” was all he could muster, a tad baffled by the unexpected logic in the joke, to which he really had no argument for. “I guess when you put it like that...” he mused, cracking a half smile. With a comforting new sense of relief and contentment, he allowed a few more precious chuckles with the newly crowned queen. What was the harm anyway? Unless Smidge dropped them of course... Naw, this is probably just another day at the gym for her. He could let his guard down, for once. They were safe from the Bergens. … For now. he allowed the troubled thought, but only for a moment, he was too preoccupied by his current reality to let his old survivalist paranoia fully take hold, all while blissfully unaware that their laughter was shifting dangerously close to silence. Too close. Too late. They were alone again. Holy hair, how long can Smidge keep this up? This is craz… wait. Why is it so quiet...? Uh oh… Oh no-oh no-oh-oh no!! Uh-uh-uh.. C’mon Say something to her, sticks for brains! Ugh! You’ve only spent THE LAST FEW DAYS ALONE WITH HER and had no problem talking to her then. Aaaaahhhh... While Branch’s mind was about to spontaneously combust, it was Poppy who finally broke the prolonged silence. “I can’t believe I finally got to hear your laugh.” she paused, smiling off in the distance before turning to meet his gaze. “You have a nice one.” She concluded. Letting those electric candy eyes linger on serene sky ones for a moment. I do?... She thinks- His eyes widened in shock, his mouth tightened. Heat engulfed him as the dark violet blush that flooded his face suddenly, seemed to set off the few glittering freckles he had, like a chain reaction of tiny firecrackers across his cheeks. Well now you have to say something. Tourmaline eyes came back for another visit, paralyzing his in the process. Silence. This is weird. I don’t like this. UGH… Just say it. He took a moment and swallowed. “I can’t take all the credit, I learned from the best.” He said, holding her gaze. Then, immediately elbowing her to drive his point home, followed by that sarcastic smirk, that could only belong to Branch. “Awwww! That’s so sweet.” she exclaimed briefly, before regaining her composure. “but nice try!” She shot up an eyebrow. “You can’t just teach someone how to laugh... It’s just something that’s already inside them.” she said, reaching up to ruffle the front part of his recently taller, not to mention more colorful, hair. The sudden sensation of fingers through his locks, and momentarily touching his scalp, caused Branch to freeze. Does she like my hair? He beamed, cheeks darkening a bit more at the thought. Nah, she’s probably just as weirded out by it as I am. He scoffed. Maybe she’s checking to see if it’s real. He got his bearings again. “Well, either way, it wouldn’t be possible… w-without you.” He managed, eyes darting away from her, sheepishly looking off in the distance, before eventually finding the courage to turn back to her again. The pink fire in her eyes still blazing. I wonder if I should... Does she want me to… “Wow.” she said, sounding truly in awe. “Hmm?” he put his previous thought away, wondering and fearing how this moment could get any more perfect. “I just can’t wrap my hair around it,” she started, eyes on his, and yet somewhere off in ‘cupcakes and rainbows’ land as well. “It’s all just so… surreal I guess.” He listened intently, a patient, albeit perplexed look on his face as she continued. “Like wow!... You’re just soooo genuinely nice, and I just… I just can’t believe, I-I mean… after all this time…” She leaned a bit into his space, causing him to flinch slightly. What’s.. happening?! Is she- “that you’d end up being…” her cheeks flushed, and she gently took his hand, pulling him even closer. Branch’s eyes widened. OH MY GAH!! Poppy’s smile grew wider “… like the greatest friend I could ever have!!” she all but yelled before pulling him into a bone crushing, and almost as equally, soul crushing bear hug. His breath was lost… for more reasons than one, maybe forever for all he knew. Friend. The moment it took for Branch to pick up the pieces of his heart, felt like an eternity, but eventually, he slowly brought his arms up returning the hug, with understandably less enthusiasm and strength than his captor. A single word relentlessly looping in his head. “I... uh.. I.. yeah.” he cleared his throat, brushing it off as best he could. “W-who’d have thought?” he let out a small, strained laugh, doing his best to hide the fact that it was completely forced. …Too good to be true… friend… of course just friends. … Stupid. How could you be so STUPID? Why in the world would you think you’d be something more? No! You don’t deserve that… her.. not after how you’ve treated her, what you've done. Hugs and pretty new colors don’t right all those wrongs. This... this is for the best. You’d probably end up hurting her somehow. You’re cursed. He steeled, bracing himself for whatever this new hell had to offer. Wanting desperately to just get as far away as possible, but… she was so close to him now, and he found it impossible to pull away. Not just yet. Hell can wait. For the moment, he brought his queen closer, hugged a little tighter, savoring paradise for as long as he could. Defying inevitability, if only for now. Being so close allowed Branch an opportunity he did not pass up. With great stealth, he turned his head toward hers, his nose nestling in magenta hair before greedily inhaling her scent. Whether or not she noticed this, she made no mention. Why does she have to smell so good? Like, if roses were candy… “This is nice.” Poppy hummed and squeezed tighter. You have no idea. “Seeeee, Hugs aren’t so bad.” she teased, eventually breaking the hug, much to his dismay. “Heh, I never said they were.” he said flatly. She deadpanned. Well, as best she could anyway, that smile always betrayed her. “Well you suuure fooled me.” She sassed, unconvinced. His ears started to droop a bit with guilt. She has a point. “It’s uh.. it’s just hard to explain.” He sighed, unable to come up with any other words to help him out. Her expression softened. “Weeell.. maybe you can try explaining it me sometime.” She offered, earning a smile from him. “Besides, it’s not like you can go running off to your bunker like always, not at the moment anyway.” She pointed out. Realization widened Branch’s eyes. Oh. Yeah. He paled, fear, panic and anxiety threatening to rear their ugly heads. His old friends. Always interrupting his life like uninvited guests. He wondered if he’d ever be rid of them. Probably not. One thing was certain though: He had to get outta here!! His gaze traveled downward and landed on the giant mushroom on which they stood, absentmindedly tracing it’s colorful designs with his eyes. A troll, momentarily forgotten, now resurfacing in his thoughts. Smidge. “Y-yeah.” He fretted, scratching the back of his head. “You know, Smidge is probably starting to get tired.” He deflected “Plus I’m getting kinda dizzy, I think it’s time to head down.. bud.” Did I just call her bud? “Y-uh.. Yeah! I mean this is Smidge we’re talkin' about here.. but yeah, we should probably go back.” She agreed, the slightest hint of reluctance in her voice. She stared at him for a moment, a playful smirk stretching across her face. “What?” he questioned, confused. “Are you suuure you didn’t think hugs were bad? Cuz you use to duck ‘em like they were poisonous snakes.” she smirked. “Like, there were times when we’d pretend to be like.. a Frankenstein version of you, runnin' around shouting ‘HUGS BAD!’ grrrr ‘SINGING, DANCING BAD!’ grrr.” She finished in her best monster voice to emphasize the joke. “Geeee… good to know.” he huffed, rolling his eyes, that familiar sarcastic edge to his words. Poppy’s smile faltered, filling Branch with instant regret. ��Branch, I’m sorry!” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean-“ “No.. I get it.” he interrupted. “I know what I am… Was... Whatever.” he sighed. “Alright, brace yourself.” he advised suddenly before loudly stomping down on the mushroom platform three times, figuring that was the best to alert Smidge to start lowering them. He wondered why she even bothered with the gesture in the first place, it’s not like they needed alone time. Why did she do it? She couldn’t be as blind as him.. right? Poppy just stood there, seemingly ignoring his instructions. A sympathetic look on her face. “Branch, don’t be so hard on yourself.” she comforted, lightly placing her hand on his arm. He pulled up a confident smile for her sake. “It's cool, I’m fine.” He lied. “WOA- AHH!” he yelped as the platform jerked abruptly, unsteadying them. Instinctively, he grabbed her hand. “Poppy, you okay?” he asked, crouching a bit as the platform started lowering slowly. “All good here! Smidge does this sort of thing a lot.” she laughed. He chuckled in agreement, postponing the arduous task of trying to piece his life back together after losing everything. Again. ‘GRANDMAAAAA!!!’ ‘BRAAAAACNH!!!’ He winced as voices from his past taunted him. Ghosts haunting his mind. Luckily her sugared voice snapped him out of it. “Hey, so.. uh, being that we’re trolls and all… there’s probably gonna be a party tonight, or some form of celebration...” she hinted. “Riiight…” he drawled out, confused. “Weeell.. are you gonna come to this one?” she pleaded. He arched an eyebrow, “I suppooose... if it would please ‘Her Majesty’.” he smirked. Poppy grimaced, her adorable features scrunching up in disgust. “OOOH NO! NOPE-NOPE-NOPE! I am puttin' a stop to that RIGHT NOW!” she threatened as Branch snorted at her lack of an assertive tone. “And yes,” she composed herself. “yes it would please me.” she admitted. “Then I’ll be there.” he returned, with a wink. She stared dumbfounded for a second before shrieking with joy, causing him to cup his sensitive ears. Ugh. This was going to be a looong night. The platform jerked again suddenly as the speed increased, causing Poppy to stumble completely… only to land in Branch’s already prepared arms. She looked up, surprised eyes meeting each other. Or was it? Yeah, maybe it wouldn’t sooo bad, he considered as his arms were suddenly cradling the pink queen. It was a nice feeling. That is until that stupid platform jerked once more. “AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” he screamed as they plummeted due to the downward speed rapidly picking up in pace. Poppy seemed to be taking it with a little more grace than him as they held on to the edges… and each other, trying to endure the rest of their.. now very direct route back to the ground. “DAAAAAMMIIIT SMIIIIIIIIIDGE!!” he yelled, he was gonna be sick. Please don’t throw up on Poppy. Please don’t throw up on Poppy. Please don’t throw up on Poppy.

#trolls #fanfic #Night and Day #branch #poppy #smidge #broppy #me #i have no idea what i'm doing #i don't even know where this stands tbh #i draw stuff i don't write stuff

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emilyzh2019-blog · 6 years ago

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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.

#039;s #1</strong></p>#1

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janetchavezcom · 6 years ago

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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.

Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.

The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains

Once Upon A Time In Mexico…

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.

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.

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.

“¿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/

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kevingbakeruk · 6 years ago

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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.

Maybe the story will be entertaining, but I hope you’ll learn something too.

The Sierra Tarahumara Mountains

Once Upon A Time In Mexico…

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.

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.

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.

“¿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.