In Veracruz a Volkswagen manufacturing plant was in full production. Looking out over the city from a high rise hotel one could see the factory were hundreds of Volkswagens were sitting in their new production storage area; but, not for long — They just kept rolling them out. I never learned the numbers for their daily production, but it is a sure thing that the Volkswagen was the most popular car in all of Mexico.

Volkswagen taxis, by the hundreds, roamed the streets, night and day. The right front seat was removed so that passengers could get in and out with ease. As I recall there was a heavy tax on them if they were exported into the United States. Also, if an accident occurred, the driver that blew his horn first was not guilty of any infraction of the law. Oftentimes a potentially guilty driver would run from the scene of the accident and report the Volkswagen taxi as stolen. When it came to parking your own car, it was better to have the garage attendant use the hotel garage as parking was at a premium.

The company that I was with had many political connections. It was not uncommon on some of our flights to have a senator or Mexican State Governor on board. On one occasion, the Governor of Sinaloa State wanted to go to Fresno California with his bodyguards and remain overnight for two nights. Then it was on to Grand Island, Nebraska for two nights. Grand Island, Nebraska, “Heck that's where I did some of my growing up and schooling.” I couldn't believe it. I recommended Drishbacks for dinner. Steak and I mean big ones were the specialty of the house. The menu was so varied and all top drawer. They loved the steaks and took a load of the back to Culiacan with them.

One thing that bothered me was the weapons they carried with them on the trip. They left them in the aircraft while on the ground in the U.S. My choice was to leave well enough alone. In clearing customs, going in and out of the U.S., they must have had diplomatic clearance as nothing was brought up about the weapons and they were in plain sight. The aircraft was searched for drugs by dogs. Clean! "WOW". I didn't need to spend time in the bastille for any infraction of the law. It is possible to drive about 10 miles from the boarder when entering Mexico, but to go beyond that point, you were refused any further travel unless you unloaded the entire truck for inspection. A hundred bucks worked wonders with the customs personnel. The same when flying into Mexico. It was required to clear at the closest city to the boarder both ways. The customs staff would ask, ?When are you bringing something in that that will be ‘Morbito’, (which means - bite out of your hip pocket). We always said “Possibly Manana.” Giving them a bottle of booze usually got them off your back.

It was especially pleasing to go to Cabo San Lucas on the Baja and have a couple of days to relax on the beach or to go fishing for Marlin. It was excellent fishing. Food was better than excellent as were all of the hotels. Mazatlan was a very lively going-concern city on the West coast and very active with all kinds of shops with merchandise from A to Z. Restaurants were abundant and the food excellent, as were the hotels. The night clubs closed at dawn, maybe. Straight South of Mazatlan was Mujeres Island. “Ladies Island” for those imprisoned for some major law infraction. No, we did not go to that Island. Now back to my Hacienda for some rest and home cooking.

About 39 km or 24 miles Southeast of Guadalajara in Jalisco State, there is a large lake called Lake Chapala. It is a large community of American's who prefer to live outside the United States. Cost of living is much less and ample food supplies are available, both American and Mexican. A good way to learn the language. Lake Chapala is a deep lake and the fishing is great. All types of water sports are available. All of the resident's have different background's and usually are semi-retired. It is friendly with little or no crime.

To the North of Lake Chapala is a city named Aguascallentes (Hot Water). The boss hired a flight captain from there. He was in hot water almost all the time. Early on, he showed up late for a flight and with booze on his breath. Of course the flight was delayed. This was his 3rd infraction of company policy so he was canceled out and another pilot was called in.

On one flight to Aguascalenties, we parked the aircraft at a designated spot that the line personnel directed us to. We went to lunch and when we returned, we just about had a cardiac. A refueler started to taxi a single engine aircraft to its parking spot. He wasn't authorized to do so and collided with the nose section of the Lear Jet. All hell broke loose and the airport policia had him locked up in a stone box about 4 feet tall and 2 feet wide. He was doubled over as if he were trying to touch his toes. It's not known how long he was kept in the "cooler," but he did not get out on bail very soon.

We had a Lear Jet Factory tech brought in and asked him to bring along a nose cone as the one on our aircraft was shattered. About 4 days later the aircraft was able to be ferried to the Lear Factory in Tucson. It was out of service for about 3 weeks undergoing repair. Here was an aircraft that had been in a flood and now this ground accident. Man, what else could happen?

On return to Culiacian with a wounded bird, now airworthy, we were scheduled for a 0800 departure the next day. We completed our takeoff and climbed to flight level 41,000 ft where we encountered clear air turbulence. We then climbed to 45,000 ft and it was even more severe. An emergency decent was made to 33,000 and all was smooth. We continued on to Veracruz and parked the aircraft. The other pilot and I went to the terminal for lunch. Being in Mexico, a poco siesta was in order. We removed seat cushions from the aircraft and laid down on the ramp in the shade of the left wing. Fuel fumes were noted. Then I noticed a drop of liquid had dripped on my head. Guess what — "FUEL" was dripping from the wing tanks and underneath the wing. Back to the Lear Factory we went, but this time to Wichita for repair work. It took about 3 weeks for the work. We had about every malfunction known that can be tested in a flight simulator with this aircraft. Dear Lord, thanks again.

On one occasioning we were at Cabo San Lucas and, on engine start, the Nicad batteries gave out. There was no starting unit available. The company's Queen Air was also at Cabo. We had two choices, 1) order a new set of batteries from the factory in Tucson or 2) go back to Culiacan in the Queen Air with the units. There was a U.S. D.E.A. unit at Cabo that was using helicopters in their attempt to curb the flow of drugs. I went to the Chief of Station office to ask for assistance and could not find him. I had another method of contact that worked. The D.E.A. ground crew downloaded the batteries and then recharged them. This was a 24 hour ordeal. As we were preparing to leave to go back to Culiacan, and then continue on to Cabo San Lucas, I noticed all the license plates were from Arizona. All personal were of dark skin and Spanish was used entirely. I began to wonder “How Come?” The flight crews were all U.S. Citizens of Spanish background and D.E.A. personnel.

The next day after returning to Culiacan I went to the facility to thank them for their assistance. Not one automobile in their parking lot had Arizona licenses, They were all Mexican plates. I made an appearance and at once was ushered into the Chief of Station's office. He was upset that he had not thought of this compromise, but he did thank me. The hanger in Culiacan had been completed for some time and a charter service was set up. The waiting area was first class with all the facilities necessary. In Mexico it is a requirement that you must be born in Mexico to obtain a pilot's certificate. I was refused a clearance in Puerto Vallarta to depart and it was necessary for the other pilot to file the flight plan. I was not even supposed to be in either seat. The boss had knowledge of the requirement and he was miffed. It was necessary for him to ride the copilot seat in taxing out and then we made the switch on departure. It was necessary for me to go to Nogales for the license. It was finally obtained and back to Culiacan we went.

On arrival we went to the main office and I had a large Turkish towel that I brought with me and after walking into the main office, I took the towel and draped it across my back and told the boss that I was no longer a wetback. I still was not legal. Man, what an ordeal. Now what? I had a U.S. Airline Transport certificate, One from Bermuda, Kuwait, Saudi and several other countries but not a valid Mexican license. For me, it was time to go back to the 40 acres and complete the development work.

A final and most memorable side trip was our visit to Copper Canyon. Copper Canyon, Mexico is one of the most memorable sights I have ever seen in my travels of 273 countries. Kipp and I drove the old F100 from Culiacan to Los Mochis Mexico. We overnighted at a major hotel and were up early for a 0700 departure by train to Creel, Mexico. The rail line runs thru Creel and continues to Chihuahua. Our train had three steam engines pulling the load. If you are going all the way and you do not intend to return to Los Mochis, your car can be loaded onto a flatbed rail car where you can pick it up at the end of the line in either direction. Of course if you wanted to travel further in Mexico and return to your starting place, you can reverse course. The railroad crosses the Continental Divide 3 times, with 37 bridges and 86 tunnels cut out from the mountain's of solid rock. One tunnel makes a 360 degree turn inside the mountain.

Starting out from Los Mochies heading East and just a few KM out of Los Mochis, our first thrill was starting across a long trestle. The railroad crosses the Fureta River which flows from the Miguel Hidalgo Dam to the North East of Los Mochis and flows out just North of Los Mochis into the Sea of Cortese. It is a shallow river and the trestle is over 200 feet above a bed of huge boulders in the river bottom.The trestle is constructed of logs from the forest that surrounds that area. Stopping at Creel for a couple of days or longer if you wish is well worth the time. It is on the edge of Copper Canyon. There are numerous hotels, motels available. We chose one about 10 miles from Creel that was operated by the Indians that live in the area. Most of the Indians live in the caves nearby in the natural cutout of the mountain. The unit we were assigned to, as were all of the cabins, was cleaner than our best hotels in the United States. Each had a pot belled stove with an ample supply of logs for warmth in the night.

Incidentally the food served at the place where we stayed was absolutely scrumptious. Completely different than I have ever had before. The altitude of Creel, at Copper Canyon, is above 9000 feet and even thoughI have spent many hours at high altitude, I was winded on the ground. Copper Canyon is deeper than the Grand Canyon and the canyon walls are almost completely covered with vegetation. Very different from the Grand Canyon, as we all know it, which is desert-like with little or no vegetation. Also numerous eagles can be seen at anytime soaring thru the canyon or "barrancas" making dives for whatever prey they have spotted. It is thickly wooded and a beautiful green during the rainy season from June to October. November is an ideal time to visit. Creel reminded me of the old citys of the Western frontier cowboy movies that we saw as kids on Saturday morning for 10 cents. It was very primitive, comparatively speaking. The return trip to Los Mochis is wonderful with a stop at Divisadero. The last half of the run is during twilight and night time. The Indians at Divisadero will give souvenirs to the passengers and of course you can buy a multitude of items from them. This small community is located along the rim of Copper Canyon. The trains were immaculately clean. The cars, when we went to Creel, were were pulled by three steam engines (CHOO CHOO's) with 4 drivers and 8 power wheels. Nowdays the cars are pulled by diesel power. Again, this was the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen in my life. Thank you Dear Lord for this special gift.

By mid January 1983 it was time for Kipp and I to depart Culiacan Mexico and head for the shed in Florida. All travel was done in the daytime and believe me you just do not drive at night on a major highway in Mexico. We started out about 0800 hrs and headed Southeast from Culiacan on a major highway to about 60 miles East of Mazatlan and then headed North East through the mountains to Durango. It was very mountainous and so much so that the old Ford F-100 brakes started to overheat and the braking was becoming nil. On arrival in Durango we enjoyed a late lunch. The next stop was Torrejon and by then we were pushing it to be off the road by dark. We found a motel with a restaurant close by. On parking at the motel I backed up the pickup right next to the building so that no one could break into it from the rear.

We departed Torrejon around midmorning as there was a nice swimming pool and we both enjoyed a good swim. Now it was on to Monterrey. As we approached the city, the haze from the industry was stifling. It is a very beautiful city, if you can see it, but the smog is unbearable. Now on to Nuevo Laredo. It was late afternoon when we arrived at the customs check point. We had the pickup loaded with "STUFF" (no, not that kind of stuff) and we cleared customs and immigration with no problem and headed for the Hilton. It was a good feeling to be back in the good old US of A.

The next morning I went to the money exchange and transferred the Pesos for good old green. We stayed overnight again just for the heck of it. Then we were on the Road Again, headed for Dallas. What a pleasure it was to be on an interstate. I had called my mother, who lived in Dallas, and gave her a position report. All went fine on the turnpike and our arrival was close to being on time. We stayed with Mom for two nights and then struck out for DeLand, Florida. Again it was good feeling to be back in the United States. We stopped in New Orleans for one night and then on to Florida. Approaching Pensacola, signs were advertising the Naval Air Museum. We overnighted there so we could visit the Museum and I must say it is great — well worth the stop.

There had been many lot sales in our housing development venture already, but it was time that we returned home. These stories, recounting events when we were "Mexican Jumping Beans," merely scratches the surface of the total experience. It was a most enjoyable undertaking and we were treated like family by our employer. While in Mexico, Kipp had become completely fluent in Spanish. Upon our return, I at once enrolled him in a Montessori School in DeLand Florida. A school function was pending and his speech instructor wanted him evaluated at Stetson University in DeLand. After introduction to the Spanish professor, who was a PHD, his instructor stated that Kipp needed some instruction in Spanish. I interrupted the Professor and stated to him “Professor, Mi Hijo es habla en Spanish Mexicano. Ustedes Espanol es Castillian.” He said , “Oh my God you are correct.” The professor had studied at the University of Madrid for 4 years. He said, “Kipp you speak better Spanish than my best 4th year students do.” Kipp won first prize in language while attending that school.