The name of the weathered, open-air bar tucked away high on the east face of the Cerro de la Neveria in 1945 was “La Estratosfera,” a palapa presumably hidden from the eyes of the rest of the world by the nebulous mists of the stratosphere. Although it was open to anyone who wanted to enjoy the incredible view, once the sun went down, everything changed. The men did not talk about it in front of their wives or children; the women worried, snickered gratefully or gossiped about its wickedness.
Mexico, by the 1940s and ‘50s, was recovering from the Depression and World War II. Families were moving into Mazatlán from the pueblos and ranches, and the city limits were spilling north and east onto land reclaimed from lagoons, marshes, birds and geckos. City planners were scrambling to provide housing and restaurants for the expanding tourist industry. Mazatlán’s beaches and harbors became playgrounds for the sea-faring rich. Famous writers, artists, actors and musicians stayed at the Belmar and Freeman hotels, bringing a new awareness of worldliness to old Mexico.
“Cantinas in those days were smoke-filled, smelly beer parlors for men only,” recalled Daniel Peña Gomez. “Mazatlán needed a place that catered to a discreet, non-judgmental clientele. Some influential men urged my father to provide such a place for them.”
Daniel’s father, Gregorio Peña Gómez, was an enterprising man and had learned the bar business working for the Expendio Paseo Orient, the Pacifico Brewery concession. When the family moved to Mazatlan in 1945, the first thing he did was buy La Estratósfera - not for the building, but for the location. He felt it would be perfect for the type of establishment he and his friends had in mind.
The business was unique. It was not a brothel. In today’s slang, with a slight twist, it was a “BYOB” - bring your own babe. It was one of the first singles bars, too, and women were as welcome as men. You might have called it a night club, except the only music came from a juke-box. An infamous story had Errol Flynn playing the piano there with his “miembro,” but, in reality, El Estratósfera had no piano.
The new hide-away was an instant success, attracting famous people like Ernest Hemingway, Kirk Douglas, Gregory Peck and Elizabeth Taylor. Daniel was too young to be allowed there at night, but he and his mother often visited during the day, when it was open to anyone who wanted to admire the panorama of the city.
“I adored my father, and often went with him to buy ice and supplies,” said Daniel. “I met Lola Beltran there one day. She was standing on a table singing with La Banda El Recodo. I also met Pedro Infante, James Dean and John Wayne.”
At night, the picture changed. In this tolerant atmosphere, men could bring their mistresses or girl-friends for private time together. But everyone always went home as soon as the bar closed - whenever that was.
Fun and games were not confined to the extravagant lives of the idols of the U.S. film industry. The path to the top of the hill was also used by local businessmen, politicans and government officials.
Many ideas were born in La Estratósfera during an evening of “borrachera,” a night of drunken fervor. One night, Severiano Briseño was asked to compose a song for La Banda El Recodo. The words and music originated there for “El Sinaloense,” now the beloved “hymn” of the state of Sinaloa.
On the flip side, in 1953 the political assassination in Sonora county of a member of the Partido Popular, Maximiliano R. “El Machi” López, was planned there. His eventual murder brought the death penalty to Nieblas Ortíz of the C.T.M. and his accomplice, Salomón Guadarrama, through their macho boastings.
As La Estratósfera became a highly profitable venture, Gregorio and an architect began to draw up plans for a four-story hotel. To take the sting out of its previous questionable activities, he changed the name to Las Nubes (the clouds), but the future of the enterprise was not to be. Gregorio was killed in 1954 while driving intoxicated in his new car.
“My mother didn’t want to take over the business,” said Daniel. “My cousin ran it for a year, then rented the business. The neighbors began to complain about the loud music, shouting and whooping all night, so Mother just closed the doors.”
By 1989, when Daniel inherited the old bar, the building had been almost destroyed, first by uncaring tenants, then from years of abandonment. It is now completely renovated and is his private residence.
If you’re downtown standing on Melchor Ocampo, looking west and almost to the top of the Cerro de la Nevería, you’ll see the large, pale blue, almost-white, two-story house that was formerly La Estratósfera. Sorry, it is not open to the public.










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