“Socalj” for Borderland Beat

Based on a Press Enterprise Article

Federal prosecutors seized a 4.8-acre Hemet ranch allegedly tied to Juan Carlos Valencia González, the suspected top leader of Mexico’s powerful Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG).

The U.S. Department of Justice filed a civil forfeiture action in July against the property on Three Springs Road, in Hemet, California.

The 4.8-acre property on Three Springs Road is connected to Juan Carlos Valencia González, 41, who was born in Santa Ana and is one of the DEA’s most wanted. A $25 million reward is being offered for information leading to his arrest and/or conviction.
Valencia González, also known as “Pelon,” and “El 03,” was indicted in October 2020 for conspiring to traffic cocaine and methamphetamine and related firearms offenses.
In August, US prosecutors identified Valencia González as the top leader of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG) following the death of his stepfather “El Mencho,” in February. The U.S. State Department designated the CJNG a foreign terrorist organization in 2025.

Hemet Ranch Property

Property records show Valencia González purchased the Hemet land in March 2011 for $250,000 under the name Juan Carlos González, dropping the Valencia name heavily tied to “Los Cuinis.” The property’s assessed value is currently $326,692. Realtor.com estimates the market value of the land at $841,000.

Valencia González was just 26 years old, and reportedly still living in Orange County, when Hemet Auto Center Leasing Inc. sold the land to him 15 years ago. Property records show $3,747 in property taxes were paid on the property in 2025.
El Pais reported that the U.S. government has had Valencia González’s ranch in its sights for years. 
Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco said he was unaware of the particular Hemet property before the federal forfeiture action was filed, but that it did not surprise or concern him.
“What’s the big deal in this? It’s just funny to me,” Bianco said. 
He said cartel-linked properties number in the hundreds across communities such as Hemet, Perris, Mead Valley and Riverside.

Before the 2014 Riverside County Sheriff’s election, Bianco worked as a Lieutenant at the Hemet police station.

And while Valencia González is a U.S. citizen, Bianco argued that many cartel leaders and their lieutenants are not, and that California’s sanctuary laws have restricted local law enforcement’s ability to investigate the immigration status and broader activities of people with suspected connections to international drug-trafficking organizations.

Horse Breeder Tenant

“Keep the gate closed. No matter what the horses tell you,” “Beware of dogs,” and “Security cameras and audio recorder in use,” warn the signs hanging on the metal fence surrounding this ranch. Inside are two roosters, two dogs, a goat, and a sheep. A small, nearly ruined house, a wooden shed, an old, dusty pickup truck, and an American flag waving in the center are further evidence that someone occupies this place.

In August, the horse breeder who rented the property, who asked to remain anonymous, received a call from José María González Valencia, El Pelón’s uncle. The message left him worried: “You have to leave,” he said, without explanation. “I didn’t ask any more questions because it’s not worth it,” says the man who has occupied the ranch for the last three years.

According to the DEA, the property is currently managed by Valencia González’s maternal uncle, José María González Valencia, who lives in Orange County. This horse breeder claims to know little about who manages the property and nothing about its true owner. “It’s not my business; my job is to pay the rent,” he insists.

Not to be confused with his brother, José González Valencia, known as “El Chepa” who was sentenced to 30 years in prison in the US last year.
He says he met Jose González Valencia through mutual friends when they met some time ago at a farm in the area. He understands that Jose lives in Santa Ana and describes him as a “good person, a real go-getter.” The only thing he’s sure of, he says, is that González Valencia and his family “are ranch people.”
Month after month, Jose came to collect the $1,500 rent. The payment has always been in cash. The tenant, originally from Mexico, has already moved his horses to a nearby farm. 
“Everything here is mine,” he says, pointing to a pile of old scrap metal, a horse treadmill, a saddle, the dilapidated little house, his dusty pickup truck, and the other animals that remained on the property when visited by local press.