"I'm also looking for short tales of adventure. Tales of heroism, plundering, rescue, successes, etc. that your Toyota was involved in." Well, there was the time that I decided I had to hunt rare rattlesnakes in the Sierra del Nido of Chihuahua. I got some antiquated maps from the University of Arizona then headed south in my trusty Toyota 4x4. The map showed a horse trail heading NW off the main highway. When I got there I discovered that it had become the world's worst superhighway/toll road. The cost to drive it was an outrageous $15, but when I explained that I was just looking for snakes they let me on for free. The map showed an old hacienda in the desert at the foot of the mountains, then a trail leading up to an old mine. When I got to the turnoff I just ignored the incredibly funky looking old hacienda and instead just opened up a barbed wire gate and headed for the hills. When I got to the abandoned mine there were two Indians who looked at me like I was from another planet. When they discovered that I didn't have permission from the Padron they got very worried and insisted that we return to the hacienda to talk to the ranch foreman. The hacienda was a fortified compound worthy of a spaghetti western. It was huge and ancient, built of mud and logs, and full of horses and very scruffy looking cowboys. The foreman was a friendly enough fellow, but he was aghast at the thought that I had simply driven to the mine. Didn't I know that the Padron was a murderous lunatic who hated Gringos? He was a deeply conservative religious queer who sodomized his lovers with gun barrels then carved them up with knives. Everyone, including all of his numerous employees, was terrified of him. Luckily for me he was away buying more horses, otherwise I would have been shot on sight. Under such circumstances I always take the precaution of carrying two coolers. One full of ice cold Mexican beer for me, and the other full of Budweiser with which to bribe Federales and/or ranch foremen. After the third beer the foreman got downright friendly and suggested that since the Padron was away perhaps we could take a little trip past the mine up into the mountains, but we would have to take his big Chevy since there was no way my silly little Toyota could possibly make it. The foreman explained that there was a “road” that went from the mine all the way to the top of the mountain where an antenna had been installed. Bulldozers can turn on their axis and can climb incredibly steep grades, so the “road” was not passable by any vehicle, even a 4x4. Nevertheless we would try to go as far as we could, and yes, there were plenty of rattlesnakes. So he loaded his truck full of cowboys and Indians and I followed him. (Good thing I had lots of beer!) Not far past the mine it started to rain and the Chevy’s tires started to spin on the steep grade so he announced that was as far as we could go. I looked and laughed. The Yo could easily handle it so I invited them all to get in the back provided that they had the cojones for the ride. I put it in first gear low range and headed up the mountain with the engine redlined. It was so steep that I couldn’t see the road in front of me and had to have the fellows standing in the back shout warnings. The real problem was the switchbacks which were too tight for the turning radius, so there were some tense moments as we flirted with disaster. The men were terrified but wouldn’t admit it. (I could see them crossing themselves and muttering Hail Marys in the rearview mirror.) Turning around was out of the question so I just raged on up the mountain with the engine screaming. By some miracle I made it to the top and the men damn near beatified the Toyota. They thanked God for their deliverance, then stroked the Yo as if it was their favorite horse and praised it to the skies. Despite it being a summer day it was cold as hell up there. There seemed to be no chance of finding any snakes, but when I complained an ancient cowboy looked around and pointed at a pine tree. There to my amazement was a little twin spotted rattlesnake (Crotalus pricei) climbing straight up the tree caterpillar style. There were also a few cold numbed alligator lizards. Clouds closed in and we were nearly out of beer so it was time to depart. Back at the bottom I proposed to spend the night hidden behind a small hill near the mine. The foreman thought that was a very bad idea, what if the Padron returned early? Nevertheless I had proved myself, as had my steed, so he reluctantly agreed. In the morning I broke camp and was headed out across the desert back toward the gate. As I did I beheld a posse in full pursuit headed by a big bad heavily armed man on a tall horse. They violently gestured for me to stop, but once again the Toyota saved the day as I screamed across the desert out of bullet range and back to the highway.
Sleaze
