Before leaving San Crystaból, we were told that our journey home would take us through unsafe areas, places where bandits rule the roads. We heard that travelers in motor homes were killed, left hung on the highways, robbed, and molested. Still, we had no choice but to head north to the USA. Of course, much of our time was spent reliving our remarkably real, mind-bending experiences. No explanations, only a lot of thinking and talking.
Our drive north was uneventful until two fully armed bandits stepped out on a lonely road about a hundred miles from the border. They motioned with their sub-machine guns for me to pull over, and of course, I did. Lenette was still napping, so I slowly got out of the car. One of the men motioned me to the side of the road, and the other opened the door and put the gun to Lenette’s head. She woke and became instantly aware of the situation. We both stayed remarkably calm, and since Lenette’s Spanish was far better than mine, she asked what they wanted from us.
The one nearest Lenette replied, “Marijuana or pesos.”
Ironically, we were leaving Mexico because we were running out of money. We had enough left for gas to return home. Lenette invited them to search the VW, explained that we had no Marijuana, and showed them what little cash we had left. After one checked the VW, he found my Buck Knife, our only weapon. As the bandit examined it and fingered the blade, Lenette told him it was a gift from our son and important to me. He held it for a minute and looked us over. In those moments, I believe he considered killing us.
Smiling, he put the knife back where he found it and said, “Adios!”
Stunned but eager to leave, we quickly got back into our van and resumed our journey home, aware of how lucky we were. Serendipity? The word hardly does it justice! Or were we being watched over? In any event, it was a trip never to be forgotten.