Coco’s Corner

We tried to get gas at the Pemex again, but no gas today either. Again, something we’d been warned about so we topped off the tank at the little store from the back of someone’s pickup truck. The teenager siphoned the gas with his mouth and poured 20 liters into our tank. It costs a bit more, of course, but there is no other gas station for hours.

Another 2 hours, another 22 miles through the desert. We had a pack of coyotes run along side us for a bit and it was very cool.

Final destination: Coco’s Corner.

Well known in these parts, Coco’s Corner is another in-the-middle-of-nowhere labor of love that is hard to miss. Coco is a super friendly guy who loves to dispense his knowledge of these parts. Get out of your car and you’ll be greeted by a loud “Hola, amigo!” from somewhere on the compound. He decorated his little patch of land with thousands of beer cans, underpants and miscellany. It’s on the maps, it’s in the guidebooks, it is a true experience.

Coco moved here 20 years, 2 months and 5 days ago (or something like that) after he lost a leg in an accident.  He’s since lost his other leg from diabetes (or bad circulation.) He is walks around on his leather-padded knees, and seems to be struggling with some discomfort and exhaustion. Nevertheless, he jokes and has an amazing personality, and warns us of the washed out road ahead. He seemed to be a little worried about the planned paving of the road, afraid no one will stop by to visit him when the new highway moves 5 miles behind his land.

Grab your own beer or soda, 20 pesos each.

If you sign his guestbook, he sketches a picture of your vehicle (and colors it in later.)  Red Beard by Coco.

I don’t know how many books there are, but he says the last dusty old book had 80,000 entries. It was a true piece of art. We’re honored to be in the next edition.