Posts Tagged ‘chupacabra’

Chupacabras and UFO’s for the Cynic’s Soul (from the MySpace archives)

March 2, 2007

Chupacabras and UFO’s for the Cynic’s Soul
Current mood: grateful
So, I was on a moonlight hike last night and I saw my first UFO. Now, I’m as cynical as they come, but since I saw my first Chupacabra less than a year ago in the Mexican desert at 4:30am, I was probably a little more open to supernatural phenomena than I have been in the past. All right, I guess dropping the name of the legendary goat sucker deserves some explanation.

Last year, my husband and I and a couple of friends decided to drive down to Bahia de Los Angeles in Northern Baja Mexico for a week of fishing and diving. Bahia de Los Angeles is a VERY small town that is basically in the middle of the desert but also happens to be right next to the Sea of Cortez. The town is run on a generator and the power goes out at 11pm. The friends we went with had been there before and assured us that it was only a 10-hour drive to our modern hotel that had it’s own generator with 24-hour electricity, hot showers, refrigerators and comfortable beds right on the beach. Roughly 15-1/2 hours into our trip, after driving all night through the Mexican desert, having caravanned behind our friends car (which started smoking in Ensenada, forcing us to stop for about an hour so that some fly-by-night Mexican mechanic could tinker with it, only for it to run out of gas in the middle of the desert, causing our friends to abandon their vehicle and climb in back of our car, laying precariously on top of our luggage and supplies for the hour-long ride into town on the dirt road in the pitch dark), we saw the Chupacabra.

It was an incredibly dark, almost moonless night. We reached the town but since there were no lights except from our headlights, we couldn’t find our hotel. There was some sort of crossroads in front of us. We took each fork of the road in turn, following it for about 10 minutes, searching in vain for some sign of our hotel. One fork took us into town, where we rang a giant bell on the side of one hotel that awakened the poor proprietor out of his slumber, only to have him point vaguely in the opposite direction. One fork took us deeper into the desert. One fork took us back the way we came. One fork seemed to lead out of town toward some hotels but they were so far off the road and poorly marked, we couldn’t tell which one was ours. We kept going back to the crossroads to try and get our bearings. We’d sit there for about 5 minutes, at each other’s throats by this point, blaming each other in turn for our predicament, exhausted and extremely frustrated only to try each fork again. As we sat there for maybe the 5th time, our headlights caught sight of this animal not 6 feet from the front of our car. It walked right in front of us, fully illuminated by the headlights. It paused for a minute to check us out and then wandered off into the tumbleweeds and cactus. It was the size of a skinny yellow Lab, with short hair and a long, fluffy tail. I think I said, “Oh look, there’s a coyote…oh wait…it’s not.” It turned and looked at us. It had a long pig’s head, like a wild boar without tusks. Now, I’ve seen wild boars before. They’re short and stocky, dark and hairy, with big, ole tusks. This was not a boar. This was not a dog. We got a very good look at it. We took to calling it “Pig-Dog” for the rest of the trip. When we brought it up to people in town, they got a very scared look on their face and practically crossed themselves. I’ve decided we saw the ‘mythical’ Chupacabra that night and escaped with our lives. Oh, and we finally did find the hotel, just as the sun was starting to rise over the water. Sure, the winds were a steady 50 miles an hour the entire time we were there, there was no refrigerator, no hot water and scorpions in the showers but it was a magical trip.

Cut to last night, I’m on a moonlight hike with the LA Chapter of the Sierra Club. It was nearly a full moon, not a cloud in the sky, cold and clear. We were walking along the trail and suddenly, we saw what appeared to be an extremely bright, pure-white, sphere of light shooting across the sky and disappearing into the canyon to our left. It was not a shooting star. It was way too low for that, probably only a couple hundred feet above us. There were at least 25 people on this particular hike. I heard several in front of us exclaiming, “Did you see that? What WAS it?” Now, this being LA, for all I know there was some special effects wizard hiking somewhere else in the park messing with us. Or maybe, it was a piece of space trash that somehow made it through the atmosphere only to burn up over Griffith Park. Whatever the hell it was, I’ve NEVER seen anything like it. I’ve seen shooting stars. I’ve seen comets. I’ve seen all manner of planes, weather balloons and the like. This was an unidentified flying object. Whether there were little bald men with big eyes in shiny suits riding on it, I can’t say but I know what I saw.

So, what does this mean? I think it means maybe I don’t know everything. Maybe, I shouldn’t be so cynical. There are a lot of unknowns in this world. If I, ‘Cynical Girl’, saw both a Chupacabra and a UFO in one year, maybe I should try to be open to all sorts of new experiences and people and not be quite so dogmatic in my beliefs. Maybe I should quit trying so hard to plan every second of my life, turning the possible rewards and consequences to each act over and over in my head and instead, just be… day at a time. I should just sit in stillness at the crossroads of life and be patient…for something wondrous might appear and quit trying to force myself in different directions in a vain effort to find the destination. A very wise man just told me that I’m going to have to put down the weight and give it over to something bigger than myself. I’ve always been very resistant to that sort of thing, thinking that if I was only strong enough, I could hold the weight forever. I’m not strong enough….but that’s ok. There is something bigger than myself out there. I just have to be open to it. Milan Kundera said in “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”:

“If I had two lives, in one life I could invite her to stay at my place, and in second life I could kick her out. Then I could compare and see which had been the best thing to do. But we only live once. Life’s so light – it’s like an outline we can’t ever fill in or correct, make any better. It’s frightening.”

It is frightening….but I’m ready.

And so it begins, wise man.