When my wife and I go to town, there are a number of ways we can either go , or come back home.
One of the ways is through the national forest on an old logging road. It's a rough road, and there's always the chance it will be blocked and you'll have to back down the way you came until you can find a place to turn around.
Off the tourist tracks, on these old roads, you don't usually run into people, but you will from time to time. There are people who ride horses out there, people who want to hike off the beaten track, crazy, homeless people who make little camps and live there. Then there are the drug dealers.
Yesterday coming home we ran into some of the latter group. I came around a corner, and there were two vehicles parked nose to tail, blocking the road. One was a big black Dodge truck, and the other was a big black SUV. Both with the obligatory tinted windows.
Out of the truck gets a guy who looked just like this. No gun showing, and I did not take this picture, it's off the internet . But this was the type.
I rolled the window down, and he walked up to the Jeep. He wasn't aggressive, but he didn't need to be.
"Where you go?" He asked me.
I told him we were going home and needed to get down to a creek just down the road, and there we'd be turning left.
"You wait here" the guy says. He goes back and gets in the truck. Then after a few minutes he gets out and walks back to the SUV. Two more guys just like him roll down the window and they have a chat.
He comes back and says "You wait here a few minutes. Then you can go."
At this point the blood is beating in my head. I can hear the blood pumping like surf in my ears and I'm mad enough to bite ten penny nails in half. How is it that a bunch of Mexicans can stop me and tell me what I have to do or don't have to do?
But it's like Chattanooga all over again. And this time, it's way more dangerous than four black punks showing their rear ends.
I could put the Jeep in reverse and start backing out, but there's nowhere to turn around for some distance, and I have no idea what these guys will do.
I can't see them through the tinted windows, so I don't know if I can sneak my gun out of my shoulder holster. Even if I could, I don't know how many of these guys there are or what they are carrying. And, I have my wife in the car. I am not carrying "cocked and locked" and there is no round in the chamber of the weapon.
So I decide to wait , and to leave the gun in the holster unless I think something awful is about to happen.
We sat there for a good ten minutes. Then the truck door opens, the same guy comes up. He smiles and he says "you go now. You turn left at road split. Not right. You understand?"
I said yes , they pulled the Truck out of the road enough for me to get by, and we went on.
There's no cell phone service out there. The Sheriff's Department doesn't want to know anything about any incident involving Mexicans. I've reported this kind of run in before and been shown the door at the Sheriff's department in short order. And even if I could tell them anything useful, which I couldn't, and even if they caught these guys, which they wouldn't, and even if the ADA took it to trial, which they wouldn't, then I'd have to go to court and I don't think I care to do that. The Hispanic gangs in Hall county, which are appendages of the cartels, have long memories.
I'm not sure if I'm being a fatalist, a pragmatist, or a moral coward but I think it's pragmatism. People who go looking for trouble find it.
Mexican Drug Cartel Activity.
Red is bad.