“That Dog Don’t Hunt.”
On 19JUL13 I departed the Uno Compound headed for my old stomping grounds near Campo, California, the site of many past adventures. While many men I have worked with were training in the area, this mission was of a slightly different nature. Since the passing of my beloved K9 an faithful border buddy Hot Shot I have been working with his best buddy, a “pitweiler” named Knucklehead. I had only taken him down to the border once, just for the day. This dog ran and ruled the streets in the barrio where I live. When I adopted him he knew no commands and now he obeys very well for the most part. He sits, comes, heals, fetches and lies down on command…….in the city anyway.
On the border is another matter it seems.
I pitched a tent under a big tree in an area sometimes called “the oaks” or “the grove.” This is a place where I have camped many times before and used to be the base camp for the Campo Minutemen, a group long since disbanded. In the distant past it was the American side of an old an now long defunct Port Of Entry. It is also where I did my first mission in Campo, in April of 2006.
It was like taking a kid from the ghetto to the farm. Poor old Knucklehead was overwhelmed. He was timid, shivering and shy. To make matters worse he is afraid of even the sight of a firearm which is a must item when camped so close to the border.
Nevertheless he had his moments. We went for a walk about 0100 early Saturday morning under the light of a nearly full moon. On a high point on a trail just west of camp he caught wind of something and went on full alert. Literally every hair on his body stood straight up, his ears were at attention and his tail was rigid and as horizontal as a pointer’s. Then came the low, long constant growl, which seem as if it continued for at least five minutes. Eventually he “stood down” and we continued our middle of the night hike.
With some coaxing I convinced him to join me in the tent about 0230 where we both slept uninterrupted until about 0730.
That morning a very pretty Border Patrol Agent came by and admired Knucklehead. Then she warned that a young bobcat had been spotted in the vicinity right about where Knucklehead had alerted the night before!
We spent the better part of the day cruising the border roads and Knucklehead likes this a lot.
Of course we stopped by the cross, a memorial to Agent Robert Rosas who was ambushed and murdered on the spot four years ago. After paying our respects to that hero we headed back to camp.
It was getting late in the day and pop up thunderstorms were all around us. With lighting getting closer and the smell of rain in the air I decided to pull up stakes and break camp. Once I had completely loaded the truck the thunderstorms seem to split down the middle and miss us so we continued to sit in the shade for a while to enjoy the peace and quiet.
Eventually I decided to leave but take the long way, down the border road to the east and exit the area at Red Shank near Tierra Del Sol. But no sooner than I had left the oaks and hit the border road two white pickup trucks came racing down the secondary road at full speed through the oaks and up the hill toward the 138 tower. They disappeared below that tower and appeared to have gone off road to the north. I scanned my rear view mirror to see if someone was chasing them and to my surprise I saw four people “immigrate” across the border road behind me. The trucks and the illegal immigration took place very fast and nearly simultaneously. I immediately got on the phone to Border Patrol to report the four I saw cross and no sooner than had hung up the two white pickups re-emerged from the northeast and hit the secondary road again at full speed. I got back on the phone to Border Patrol to report these suspicious vehicles, wondering aloud if they were a diversion or a transport for the illegal aliens or if it was just some weird coincidence. Apparently a DHS helicopter was already in the air and as the area began to fill with Border Patrol vehicles, the helicopter began chasing the speeding white pickup trucks.
I had already turned around headed back west in the direction where I had seen the four illegals cross. The dips in the road obscure a continuous view and as I crested the second hill on the border road west of the oaks I was greeted by an ass hanging over the fence. I slammed to a halt and the “person of interest” (POI) disappeared over the fence into Mexico. Regretfully I could not get a picture.
Those of you who have worked this area in the past are familiar with this section of the border fence. There the horizontal, Vietnam era landing mats used as fence panels stop and the next sections continue but the panels are set vertically.
I assume this deviation from the normal placement is due to the fact that there is a large rock right next t the fence there and the horizontal placement of the panels make the fence taller and less easy for those so inclined to enter from that high point.
In the past, back “in the day” as they say, many a spotter has cussed me and shot me the finger from that rock after I had foiled his attempt to bring a group through there. Today was no exception. I rolled over to the secondary road to look for tracks and was greeted by the hoots and hollers of the spotter, up on the rock clearly very pissed. He shouted, shot me the finger grabbed his crotch and an in general made it plain that he was not happy with me, but ducked each time I raised my camera.
It felt like old times!
Meanwhile, after several tracking excursions into the brush the dedicated Agents on hand determined that the four I had seen cross had gone BTM (back to Mexico). The helicopter had returned from chasing the two white trucks, buzzed the spotters perch and determined that there were ten bodies back there waiting to cross.
Knucklehead and I returned to our quiet spot in the oaks, not wanting to leave knowing that ten were waiting to invade.
An hour or so later, with the sun nearly set, one of the Agents informed me that three had indeed crossed again a little to the west of the original incursion. He said they wanted to wait until the POIs had moved a little farther in so they couldn’t go BTM and could be more easily apprehended.
Of course I agreed to stay put and the Agent told me when I saw the BP trucks on the move I would be free to roll the border road again. Soon the Agents took off and so did I.
I rolled past the spotters’ rock but he failed to make an appearance. Then I caught up with the agents who had successfully apprehended the three.
The group of ten was down to seven and would likely trickle across in small groups periodically though the night. Knucklehead and I opted to get out of the agents way and head for the comfort of a local rancher’s bunkhouse for the night. We departed the area in the morning and returned to the Uno Compound satisfied in knowing I could still disrupt the flow of human smuggling in the Campo area, much like the “good old days” documented on this blog years ago.
I’m already itchin’ to get back………but poor old Knucklehead will be staying at home to guard the compound. A job he is good at and one he likes doing.
7JUN13- REMEMBER 1986/ SAY NO TO AMNESTY camp out and rally
(Combined with Operation “Charlie Foxtrot”)
My friend and long time border operator Beast and I set off for Arizona in the morning on Friday 7JUN13. We got to the designated area in the heat of the day but initially and intentionally rolled past the base camps of the I-8 Say No To Amnesty rally, located on both sides of the highway at approximately mile marker 124 in search of recent signs of drug trafficking. It did not take long. One of my favorite spots to set up, a spot which always looked like the perfect place to bring a load in, had long been dormant but now had the unmistakable debris left behind by a very recent and successful drug smuggling operation.
It was where we would set up for the night but not until after many hours of delay and frustration.
I will not go into all the gory details of that frustration here, but will write about it in a subsequent and more in depth report to be published at a later date and in a different venue.
While a “gang of eight” treasonous traitors promoted rewarding lawbreakers we met with Patriots from every walk of life in the heat of the Arizona summer. Some of these concerned citizens spend hours mapping the area, indeed the entire southern portion of the Great State of Arizona, pinpointing smugglers trails and documenting how unsecure the border actually is. The crew from Secure Borders Intel was on hand and provided valuable information for future “tactical camping” expeditions. Their videos and audios can and should be viewed and heard on their excellent website: secureborderintel.com/Arizona.html
Having returned from our recon we visited with these patriots in the relative comfort of a shade awning and portable swamp cooler at the main Say No To Amnesty rally headquarters on the north side of Interstate 8.
As evening came we suited up for our night’s mission and awaited the arrival of other independent operators who were also planning on working several areas that night. They were very late in arriving and while waiting we passed the time helping a fellow Patriot with a flat tire bogged down in the sand. The vegetation out there may appear sparse and brittle but having a staub stabbed in the sidewall of a tire is a very likely probability. I had once such episode several years ago in the Sawtooths and actually drove to the other side of Gila Bend after leaving the op before the tire went flat! I was able to change that tire on hard pavement in the cool of the evening. Others on this trip were not that fortunate.
After all but giving up on the arrival of the other operators they finally showed up. It was already dark however and they had to roll into their AO with headlights on. This is never my preference. It’s seems there are two schools of thought. Their’s was that they did not want to roll in the daytime when their trucks could be seen. I prefer to roll in immediately before sundown when there is just enough light left to avoid using headlights, net up and set up.
But we had been delayed by the friend’s flat tire and the tardiness of the other operators and by the time we got ready to roll it was pitch black. While the other operators wanted to set up in an area they said they had scoped out earlier we were not as familiar with their spot and chose instead to work a few miles away in the area where we had earlier come across the recent sign. Fortunately the Uno Mobile is equipped with complete lights out/night vision capability. Beast and I bid the others farewell and happy hunting and proceeded to our spot. After taking the designated exit I disabled the headlights and brake lights and switched on the infrared high beam. Then we lowered our night vision goggles and rolled the trail dark and slow in the inky, moonless desert night.
Halfway to our spot we encountered a problem. The twelve volt outlet that the infra red was drawing power from apparently burned out plunging us into almost complete darkness. Even the state of the art Gen 3 NVGs we were wearing were insufficient to drive by without the help of the infrared spotlight. Thankfully I had prepared for such circumstances and switched the power source to a backup, hard-wired 12 volt power source. After reconnecting the infrared Go-Light we proceeded to our destination.
Most of the night was uneventful. With one exception when my partner heard a person lurking in the rocks nearby. We scanned the area with our NVGs then went on a short patrol. We were never able to spot the intruder and no other traffic came through our area, suggesting perhaps that he had spotted us.
At sun up we patrolled the hills and valleys around the night’s AO and then headed back to our base camp on the south side of the 8 just east of the 124.
The other operators had no luck either and while they headed back to air conditioned motel rooms and campers we searched for shade and a few hours sleep.
Truckers on the 8 kept honking expressing solidarity with our cause and like-minded individuals would occasionally pull in to join in the rally. So many strangers would stop, offer us drinks and food and thanks for drawing attention to the lack of “homeland security.” We would direct them to areas on the 8 where they could see for themselves the debris left by loads of drugs smuggled across the border and nearly 80 miles across the Tohono O’odham reservation to awaiting vehicles on Interstate 8. Families on vacation drove by with young children’s faces pressed against the window, most oblivious to the fact that in the American desert they were traveling through Mexican drug cartel members held high points on hilltops with radios and supplies to facilitate the illegal importations of drugs and humans.
Later that day, after lots of fluids, little food, even less sleep and plenty of comradery, we prepared to make our departure. But not before we fixed another flat. Yet another member of the rally had picked up a staub in the sidewall.
In the blazing heat my Beast and I teamed up like a Nascar pit crew to put on the spare. Then we headed for home, our own tires thankfully still intact.
A week later I was back on the road, this time on a solo trip to my home state of Texas. I did no recon on the way and made it from the left coast to the hill country of Texas in two days and two hours. Did a lot of shooting
eating and visiting.
All too soon it was time to leave and on the way back I took my time. After hearing that some of the Texas Minutemen had recently had an operation near Presidio I decided to take the scenic route home via a little place called Candelaria, Texas.
Candelaria came to the national spotlight briefly when a long used footbridge across the Rio Grande from the Mexican town of San Antonio Del Bravo was removed by the Border Patrol in 2008. Wikipedia claims Candelaria has a population of 75. I saw 2. They saw me as well.
I found the road down to the spot of the old footbridge but there had been recent flooding and none of my 4 cellular providers had any coverage. I was all alone in the back country and decided against traveling down the muddy road south to the river.
On the way out I stopped at the little Candelaria Catholic Church.
Did a little “hand to hand combat”
Then headed back down the road to Presidio.
There was one spot where the Rio Grande, not so grand in that area, came right up to the road with nothing more than a game fence on the Texas side.
As I said before there was evidence of recent flooding and there had also been a pretty big fire there. The area looked like a demilitarized zone. Nothing but mud and blackened stumps.
On the way back I saw three Border Patrol on horseback east of the small town of Ruidosa. Other than them and the two individuals I saw in Candelaria I saw no one on this desolate stretch of Texas road.
I pressed on north and west, back through Marfa known for it’s weird lights and equally weird roadside art.
Spent the night in Las Cruces, New Mexico opting this time not to stop at the National Border Patrol Museum in El Paso. I have been there several times and if you get the chance I highly recommend it. It also has a great gift shop there as well as online.
The next day I headed to Douglas, Arizona for some sight seeing. On the way I passed a fellow with an obvious good sense of humor.
After getting an amazing number of hard looks from the locals I departed Douglas and pressed on to Bisbee to visit an old friend and former LEO. I spent the night in Naco where I did some sight seeing and even a little border work.
On the border road in Naco I stopped to speak with an Agent. Never wanting to get in the way but always wanting to assist I asked if he minded if I rolled the border to the east. He said, “No problem.” But pointed out a spot a ways down where he advised me to stop and turn around, warning that just beyond that point there were bodies behind the fence waiting to cross and they would likely throw rocks at my truck…………I sarcastically joked saying, “Well that’s never happened top me before!” He laughed, but not wanting to blatantly go against his advice I turned around at the appointed spot and headed back.
I cruised around a neighborhood in Naco adjacent to the border trying to see if there was a road out to the west side of town. I found nothing but 4X4 trails but while I was cruising that impoverished neighborhood I picked up a tail: A fellow in a pale while Mitsubishi began following me, dropping back and intersecting me at cross roads. Then I don’t know if I was getting paranoid or if it was just a coincidence but people started coming out of their house to watch me drive by. Several were on cell phones. Not liking the attention or wanting to be drawn into more than I had bargained for I headed out of town, with my tail turning around as I neared the border road.
The next day I went from Naco to Fort Huachuca, Sierra Vista then down to Nogales for more sight seeing. On the way up to Tucson I passed the exit to Peck Canyon where Border Patrol Agent Brian Terry was shot and killed by cartel members with guns the Obama administration had sold them. Where is the outrage???
Then I stopped in Tubac to go to the Grumpy Gringo Cigar shop.
The proprietor is a retired ICE agent and I had heard from Beast that the man had written a book entitled “Sixty Miles Of Border” describing his adventures.
I picked up the last two copies of his book for Beast and I as well as a couple of fine cigars.
After a brief visit and swapping of border stories I pressed on.
Soon I was back on that notorious stretch of I-8 between Casa Grande and Gila Bend. I poked around Vekol Valley and other places strewn with drug detritus before making it to the spot were Beast and I had setup at a couple of weeks before. Sure enough there was brand new fresh sign of at least one load of drugs smuggled through there since my previous visit earlier in the month.
Almost simultaneous with my disgusting discovery of fresh dope debris the “gang of eight’s” bloated, convoluted, complicated, unnecessary and, dare I say, unconstitutional “immigration reform” (amnesty) bill passed the senate.
Here are the 14 GOP senators who voted for the legislation:
Marco Rubio (Fla.)
Lamar Alexander (Tenn.)
Lisa Murkowski (Alaska)
Kelly Ayotte (N.H.)
Jeffrey Chiesa (N.J.)
Susan Collins (Maine)
Bob Corker (Tenn.)
Jeff Flake (Ariz.)
Lindsey Graham (S.C.)
Orrin Hatch (Utah)
Dean Heller (Nev.)
John Hoeven (N.D.)
Mark Kirk (Ill.)
John McCain (Ariz.)
I say FIRE THE TRAITORS!!!
I don’t know which pisses me off more: finding blatant evidence of the fact that despite what the government tells you the border is anything but secure. Or having fat treasonous suits in D.C. pass bills that not only facilitate more of this activity but reward the lawbreakers! Does anyone really believe these traitors are really going to beef up border security first? Or at all??
And I sure don’t have much faith in the soup sandwich, washy washy, spineless, gutless wonders in the House of Representatives that call themselves Republicans either….
What will it take to wake up the American people? Will someone have to smuggle a nuke up through the Tohono O’Odham indian reservation to an awaiting vehicle on the I-8?
How many OTMs (other than Mexicans) bent on the destruction of the American way of life have already made it across? For instance:
Significant Border Incident (click on link below)
This 1:24 minute short version condensed audio clip covers a time span starting at 06/04/13 – 0200 thru 06/04/13 – 0700.
Omaha 25 (Predator) aircraft starts tracking a group of Illegal Aliens on 06/04/13 @ about 0200 @ N31 33.250, W110 42.70.
This location is 2.6 miles NE of Patagonia,AZ …. 1/4 mile north of Red Rock Road and 15 miles north of the US/Mexico border, southeast of Tucson in southern Arizona (see map below).
The group was tracked to a location 2.3 miles SE of the original coordinates at approximately 0700.
At the 1:16 minute mark in the audio clip (@ approximately 0750) the Omaha 25 operator makes the following statement:
“...uh…. be advised…. uh … replay the tape shows…. uh…. about sun-up, there was some kneeling going on…..”
Transmissions from Omaha 25 after the above statement concerning this incident continued for an additional 45 seconds with one final set of coordinates. After that, no further transmissions from Omaha 25 or any other transmissions concerning this incident or its disposition were discerned.
Come to your own conclusions.
(Note: Predator UAV aircraft are flown from some remote location. Some of the Predators in Arizona are being flown remotely by “pilots” based in North Dakota. Most, if not all of these pilots are current or previous military “drone” pilots who have had a lot of experience in flying drones remotely in Islamic countries. The one sentence observation made by the done pilot would be as result of behavior of targets he has seen in the past in Islamic countries…..unusual here in the United States but not unusual in Iraq, Pakistan or Afghanistan. After 5 hours of recorded audio for this event, it is significant that drone pilot “replayed the tape” in order to recount something that had previously caught his attention while observing the event “real time”. Also significant is that 45 seconds after the statement was broadcast, there was no further communication concerning disposition of this incident on the un-secure radio channel being monitored. Someone does not want the implication of this event to become public knowledge. )
Perhaps the latter doesn’t even matter anymore when the majority of our elected officials in Washington D.C. Seem bent on doing the same thing. And,unfortunately for freedom loving, patriotic Americans, these senators and congressmen are doing a far better job of destroying the United States than any terrorist has done so far.
They are exactly the enemy Cicero spoke of so many years ago:
“A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear.”
What will you do to stop this? When will you wake up to the fact that America is being systematically destroyed not only from outside invaders but from within?
Money is tight, times are hard and I am unable to go on as many missions as I would like to.
I would prefer to be “doing work” on the border, or even well north of it on the 8. But whether its Candalaria, Naco, Douglas, Ajo, Big Bend, I-8 or Campo when the bastards least expect it,
“Vocatus alque non vocatus”……
I’ll be back.
“We, the People are the rightful masters of both Congress and the courts —not to overthrow the Constitution, but to overthrow men who pervert the Constitution.’’—Abraham Lincoln