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Feeling like we had gone to heaven, Lily & I just weren’t ready to come home.  We had arrived in Mazatlan fleeing from single digit temperatures and cold wind in Missouri to fish at Anglers Inn, Lake El Salto.  We have been here many times before and know all the staff.   Fishing had been excellent, the weather perfect, and we were pretty spoiled by the attentive staff.  

unfortunately, the lodge had other guests coming in who needed our room and our 5days on the water would be ending soon.  Jose, a wonderful man who has worked for Billy Chapman more than 24 years was scheduled for several well deserved days off before having to meet a party of 20 fly fishermen at Picachos in 4 days.  All the guest at Picachos were scheduled to be gone for a couple days before then, allowing for Jose’s scheduled holiday.  We didn’t know these details when expressing our reluctance to go back home.

Jose generously offered us a 3 night stay at Picachos where we could fish for 2.5 days more.  We changed our flight date, gladly paid the extra fees, and took the van to Picachos, several hours closer to Mazatlan.  The lodge at Picachos is less developed and fairly Spartan, yet comfortable.  There are 10 small cabins along the shore and an open kitchen/dining area.  Modesto was our guide and we wore him out, catching fish at a rapid rate but also routinely getting hung up in thick cover. 

After dinner, we briefly met a party of 4 California guys who were leaving the next morning and we would then be the only guests in camp for 2 days.  Worn out from fishing El Salto in the morning, traveling, and then fishing Picachos until dark, we went to our snug cabin with 2 twin beds.  I took the one nearest the door.  Later events would make me very glad that was the arrangement. 

Sound asleep around midnight I am awakened by a husky American man who is climbing into bed with me.  WTF was my immediate and understandable response, but the man kept pulling at the covers trying to get into a small bed already occupied by a large man saying “it’s just me”. when I asked him what he thought he was doing.

 Finally I forcibly push him off the bed and in my most commanding voice say “GET THE F*** OUT OF THIS ROOM NOW”.  He responded the same way, trying again to get into the bed, saying “Shh, it’s just me”.  

I am now fully awake, on my feet with the light on and preparing for a forcible eviction while the bedcrasher is almost under the blanket.  

Remember when I said there were 2 beds in the room?  My wife was in the other one and she was about to make her presence known. 

She is an amazing lady who has put up with me for 40 years, raised 4 kids  rarely raised her voice and never cursed or used vulgar language.  I thought I had been pretty compelling when I told this nutjob to get the F out, but I was about to learn a new definition of compelling.  Suddenly from behind me comes a command with the force of a howitzer. “DID YOU HEAR WHAT MY HUSBAND SAID - GET THE F*** OUT OF THIS ROOM NOW!” from my petite wife.  Nutjob immediately responds to that as if he has been hit by a tazer.  He jumps up onto his feet with a panicked look of pure fear, then looks quickly at me and says “ Dad??” to which I replied ( in a lower tone of voice) “Im not your Dad, now go”.  He then turned and sprinted out the door, which I locked behind him.  

Mind you, i’m a veteran and still vividly remember my boot camp drill instructor Sgt. Livingston, USMC and I have worked in construction with rough men all my life who kicked and spit and cussed like sailors on a biker holiday but I had never heard anyone issue a more undeniable and powerful command as my wife just turned loose.   As I sat down on my bed shaking my head, she had already rolled over and only asked if I had locked the door.  “Good” was all she said when I answered that I had and then she was asleep.  

This should be the end of the story, but it is not. 

Awake at 4:30 AM, I reach for my I-Pad with a thought to check the time and turn off the 5:00 AM alarm I have set.  But my Ipad is not there.  A complete search confirms it is missing.  The only logical  conclusion is that the bedcrashing nutjob took it.  Out of respect for Jose, I tell him the story and what I plan to do.  I told him if my plan did not work or it got ugly he should call the local Policia.  

Those who have fished Mexico know there is a knock on your door every morning at 5 AM for wake up and hot coffee delivery.  Instead of the shy lady who typically does that job, I brought the coffee and stood outside the cabin where Jose told me nutjob was.  At 5 AM I heard the alarm on my Ipad go off playing “Hit The Road Jack” by Ray Charles.  The sound was coming from inside the cabin.  I set the coffee tray down knocked hard enough to wake everybody in there and just shy of permantly damaging the door while saying “That song you are hearing is from my Ipad - bring it to me - NOW”.  Door opens, nutjob hands me the Ipad and I ask “ Why did you take my IPad?”. No response and the door closes.  

We ate breakfast and went fishing.  We later learned that this guy who I have unkindly referred to as “nutjob” has a sleepwalking problem when he travels. 

For all the fears I hear expressed about going to Mexico, this is the worst and only bizarre or scary experience we have had in the 54 trips we have taken over the years - and it was from a gringo. 



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4 hours ago, aarchdale@coresleep.com said:

I hear tons of claims but never have seen it.  

I used to when I was younger. I mean like from 10 to 12. You wake up pissing in the kitchen trash and you will know it's real. A drunk? Maybe. But not a 10 year old kid. 



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I pee'd in the clothes hamper once.  Woke up because I couldn't find the flush handle.   My wife at the time questioned why I decided to wake up and start a load of laundry in the middle of the night, I just told her there was a pair of jeans in there that I wanted to wear the next day.    She bought it.  :D


Yes, Snagged, I'm sure it had to do with not being fully adapted to my environment.  

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