february 1 2008 : cholula, mexico, central america
Ali and I have got ourselves a passenger. Actually he’s a non-paying, but very grateful and cute little guy who is sure to break our hearts in the end. It started today when we found ourselves on a busy four lane highway with traffic flying past us at break neck speeds. We were cruising along at an unheard of 40 miles an hour when we came over a rise and had to hit the brakes hard. Our soon to be third wheel was standing six inches tall in the middle of the fast lane looking scared as hell. Another sad Mexican mutt trying to make his way across a busy road.
We pulled off the road immediately and were happy to see that he’d retreated to the relative safety of the grassy median. We dodged the semi-trucks and made our way over to him. He was shaking, and when Ali went to pick him up he screamed. Literally. He was backing away from her and Ali was afraid he’d bolt right back into the road so I snuck up behind him and quickly grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He gave out one more scream before becoming putty in my hands.
Back across the road Ali and I stood there looking at this sweet puppy, maybe eight weeks old, and it was all over. Any initial thoughts we had about rescuing him from the median and then setting him down safely in the dirt field on the other side were quickly forgotten. In fact, the way Ali was jumping up and down and with the size of the smile on her face, I would have had to leave them both there in that dirt field if I was going to leave one. So we all piled in the bus and continued on down the road.
Our plan to spend the day in Puebla was no longer going to work, so we continued just a bit farther along to Cholula where we knew there was supposed to be a campground. We had a rough map and directions, but after a couple of hours we were no closer to finding the place. The puppy was so exhausted he’d fall asleep while we waited at a traffic light, but the instant we were moving again he’d be up and whimpering. During our search we got pulled over by yet another traffic conductor, this time for not having a front license plate. I told him we didn’t have one, and he made me get out of the car so that he could show me the back plate. I told him again that we didn’t have one for the front, and thus satisfied that he’d done his duty he simply waved us along. Friendly coppers.
The search for a place to stay the day before had taken hours longer than it should have as well and ended with us staying in some nearly abandoned hot water springs park, where, in the middle of the night we were awakened by two gun toting security guards who needed to see our receipt for the six dollars and give me crap for parking on the grass. So after our fruitless tour of Cholula we were both pretty well fed up. We pulled a cab driver over and asked him if he knew the place. He didn’t, but after a couple of minutes on the radio he had it nailed down. As it turned out we were about three blocks away, but never in a million years would we have found the place. It was the best 40 pesos we’ve spent in Mexico.
The puppy was thrilled to be out of the moving vehicle and immediately positioned himself under the bus for a two hour nap. Ali and I were starving by this point so we woke him up, laid him down in the front seat, watched him instantly fall back to sleep, and set out for the nearby grocery store. As luck would have it there was a Macca’s there. We hadn’t been able to get the pup to eat or drink anything so we packed a few bites of Quarter Pounder away for him before going to the store to pick up some proper puppy supplies.
Back at the bus we found our new buddy still sound asleep. We dragged him back outside and stuck a little Macca’s in front of his face. In true Bumfuzzle fashion he quickly devoured it. I felt a little guilty for only bringing him a couple bites instead of a whole burger, but it turned out he was just as happy with the puppy milk and mushy food we bought. Dogs are so easy, after plying him with delicious food he seemed to pledge his undying loyalty to us. He didn’t once go more than ten feet away from us and spent most of the rest of the afternoon on our feet. After whipping a collar around his neck it was official, we’ve got ourselves a new partner. Though we don’t intend for this to be a lifelong traveling commitment. The plan is to get him healthy and back to the States with us when we return in a couple of months for the Great Race. From there we know we’ve got at least half a dozen happy homes for him.
february 2 2008 : cholula
Today we visited what I guess is officially the largest pyramid in the world, by mass. The thing is, nowadays it is simply a big grassy hill with a mediocre church on top. Certainly not the sort of pyramid you would hope for in the number one slot. Some excavation has been done around the edges, but it’s all a bunch of rebuilt stuff that looks like some do-it-yourselfer from Home Depot had been building a retaining wall. There is also some 8 km of tunnels dug underneath and through the pyramid which sounds pretty interesting. Problem is, we are now dog owners, for better or worse, and we couldn’t go.
We also couldn’t go on calling him dog, he needed a name. We considered perro, which is simply Mexican for dog, but neither of has mastered the art of the rolling double r’s. So Libre is his name. It means free, and in this context it has to do with us only traveling along the libre roads in Mexico, had we taken the much more direct cuota we would have never came across him.
We’re on our way back to the west coast. We definitely enjoy the interior of Mexico for the cities and the sights, but frankly, after a month of freezing every night we need some sun and sand again. Winter in Mexico is no joke. It may be balmy during the days, but at 6000+ feet the nights are a different story.
february 5 2008 : taxco, mexico
After leaving Cholula we drove to Cuernavaca. Actually outside Cuernavaca to a balneario campground. We followed the signs to the big park which we found was packed. At the ticket gate we found out that the place cost over eighty dollars. Eighty dollars to sleep in our own van and swim in a jam packed hot water spring swimming pool. We decided to try the park next door which was a lot smaller place, didn’t have the big fancy signs, and was a little run down. At the gate the little old lady asked us politely if we meant to be at the park next door. We told her no, it was way too expensive for us, and her park looked very nice. She seemed happy to hear that we wanted to be at her park, and we were happy that it only cost twenty dollars a night.
As soon as we drove into the camping area and parked we had locals coming up to us. The first group wanted to talk about the bus, then some more people came over with their puppies and wanted to meet Libre. This park was pretty busy too and we soon found out that it was a holiday weekend. They were celebrating Día de la Constitución, Constitution Day, and the the four day weekend that went along with it.
After dark we walked over to the outdoor restaurant where we were surprised to be able to eat dinner while watching the Super Bowl. To be honest, we had no idea it was even Super Bowl Sunday or who was playing, but it was fun to watch with a group of Mexicans who for some reason were all cheering on New York.
We really enjoyed the park, it was the first campground we’ve been at that wasn’t filled with Canadians but instead had locals enjoying their holiday. If you ever needed proof that we are all the same this is the place to come. Bonfires, soccer games, swimming, playing fetch with the dog, and watching the Super Bowl over beers at the bar.
Yesterday we had a pretty quick drive down to Taxco. Taxco is a colonial city perched on a steep hillside. It also appears to be the most heavily Volkswagen populated town on earth. The main road through town is really about the only road that is navigable to normal travelers. Off of that the narrow roads wind sharply up the hill like a maze. About the only people driving these roads are the taxi drivers, and the only thing they drive are VW beetles and buses.
There are obviously no campgrounds in Taxco, there is simply no space, so we found ourselves a hotel room off the main road that had both a great view and a parking spot for the bus. Our room is on the roof of the hotel which also gives us a huge patio covering the entire roof all to ourselves, perfect for the pup.
Lately we’ve noticed that on Sundays we always see women of all ages walking the streets with big dolls in their arms. It looks pretty ridiculous to see a grandmother carrying a doll in her arms exactly like it were a real baby, so we asked a local guy what that was all about. He explained that the dolls represent the Virgin Mary or other miscellaneous Saints and that they carry them and switch them out at different shrines around town. I don’t know if that’s the right answer or not, but at least its better than most of the alternative explanations that Ali and I were coming up with.
february 6 2008 : taxco
After just a few hours in Taxco we realized that it was a town we’d like to hang out in for a while. We also found out that our boat had been sold and the closing was set for Friday, giving us just a couple of days to get our end of the paperwork done. So today’s projects included getting all the forms printed out, finding a notary public, and getting the documents sent overnight to Florida.
This is the sort of thing that would take about an hour of work back home, but down here it can be a lot of work. Fortunately we found a notario relatively easily, and even better, he’d worked at an embassy in the U.S. for a few years and spoke pretty good English. We haggled over price a little bit and then set about getting all of the stamps and signatures in the right place. After that we even managed to get everything to DHL ten minutes before the overnight cutoff.
We’re really looking forward to not owning a boat again. While we don’t agree with the old saying that the two best days in a boat owners life are the day he buys the boat and the day he sells it, we do agree that the day it sells is right up there near the top.
It’s amazing how big a pain selling a boat can be. We had deal after deal fall through on the boat. With one couple we had an agreement that seemed good, but they were in Colorado and couldn’t see the boat for three weeks. So everything goes on hold and then when they finally get to the boat they announce that they are backing out because they didn’t realize that you had to duck your head as you go down the stairs into the hulls. They get their deposit back and we lose three weeks.
Another deal went through the entire process of survey and sea trial and was just a couple of days away from paper signing when the buyers decided instead to buy a 44 foot catamaran. The two aren’t even comparable. You’d think that we might get to keep a portion of the deposit at that point, but there are so many loopholes that the deposit is basically a totally worthless document. There is no way the seller will ever see any of that money. Anyway, it looks like it is finally a done deal and we couldn’t be happier.
february 10 2008 : pie de la cuesta, mexico
After two days of running around Taxco doing nothing but work to get the boat sold, we had a couple of more days to spend just hanging out and checking out the rest of the town. We really enjoyed Taxco, it didn’t have a whole bunch of tourist attractions, but just had more of a real town feel to it. The main tourist attraction it did have was the church Parroquia de Santa Prisca. Built about 250 years ago by a big silver baron, silver being what the place is famous for, it has stood the test of time pretty well. From across the street outside we could sit in the busy plaza and enjoy the pink stone of the building, and inside we took in the gaudy simple design of the place.
Everywhere else on the streets are silver merchants, all selling pretty much the same things with the same government mandated stamp of authenticity. Outside of these things the town just ran along like any other. We wandered the streets aimlessly, which was easy to do since the place was built on such a steep hillside. Just head up the hill until you get tired, then turn around and walk down until you hit the main road. Along the way we discovered what is now our favorite taco stand in all of Mexico. After our first day there we were so excited that we almost wept on Ash Wednesday when we discovered they were closed.
Traveling with a puppy has made us adjust our style quite a bit too. We’re definitely traveling slower at this point. Staying put for an extra day just because it’s easier or because we didn’t see everything we wanted to since we were busy taking Libre home for an afternoon nap and feeding. We’re trying desperately not to become those people who feel the need to personify their dog, but it definitely feels like we’re traveling with a baby now. In fact, Libre is the first responsibility Ali and I have had in our adult lives outside of our responsibilities towards each other. It’s a big change.
From Taxco we continued our march for the coast. A month of forty degree nights was enough for us. The shortest route to the ocean was to Acapulco, so that’s where we headed. It was a long days drive, but it was along the best free road we’ve driven on the mainland, and by the afternoon we were in Pie de la Cuesta just a few miles north of downtown Acapulco. There’s a whole bunch of oceanfront campgrounds along this stretch of coast, with a huge freshwater lagoon on the other side of the road, where, as it turns out, they filmed Rambo II.
Pulling in to the campground it felt like we were in the Great Race again. Before we even got out of the bus we had a small crowd around us. Turns out that there are a whole bunch of Germans staying here and they all loved the VW. One guy had worked for them since 1960 designing the engines, and another had even seen our website before. We spent nearly the entire first night showing off the bus and enjoying a few large German beers.
Yesterday we spent hanging out on the beach and the lagoon. It didn’t take us long to discover that Libre loves the water. In fact whenever we run the water faucet he climbs right underneath it and lays down. At the beach he didn’t like the noise from the crashing waves, but in the lagoon he went right in for a swim.
february 12 2008 : zihuatanejo, mexico
We spent a couple of days hanging out on the beach before heading back north a little ways to Zihuatanejo. Ali’s parents, sisters, and niece and nephew are coming to Ixtapa on Sunday for a week of midwestern winter getaway. Zihua is just a few miles south of the mega hotel Ixtapa area, and is famous in the cruiser circles. I never knew why, but after seeing the place it is pretty obvious, it is probably one of the most protected bays on the coast. The town itself is really touristy but on a much lower scale than most of the resort cities along Pacific Mexico.
The drive north to Zihua was pretty uneventful. We got pulled over yet again for not having a front license plate, but they didn’t really care and quickly waved us on. The drive heads a bit further inland than I would have expected and there was really only about a ten mile stretch with any view of the ocean at all. The highlight of the drive was the rolled over Coke truck and the line of locals, cops included, walking down the road carrying cases of it on their shoulders. The best road crew cleanup we’ve seen.
One thing I can’t stand anywhere in the world is having to let somebody else fill my gas for me. In Oregon I would actually drive ten minutes across the border into Washington, and pay the higher prices just so I could fill the tank myself. Down here there is really no choice. The reasons I can’t stand it is that one, I’ve now got a big chip in my paint on the fuel door, two, an extra gallon seems to be spilled into my engine compartment at every fill, and now three, my little chrome tire valves keep disappearing. We didn’t realize it when the first one disappeared, but after the second one went missing, amazingly from the same tire located just under the fuel door, we figured it out. Now I’m just going to make a game out of it.
In Zihua we found a small RV “park” just a short walk through a restaurant from the beach. The place is really nothing more than a dirt parking lot for the restaurant, but it does the trick. We took a walk along the beach, which was the first busy beach we’ve been to with Libre. It was an experience. We couldn’t walk ten feet before somebody was cooing over him. After lunch we took him swimming in a shallow pool where two young local boys were playing. They commandeered Libre in no time, carrying him all over the place. Libre was being good about it, but eventually his pleading eyes convinced us to come to his rescue.
As I was typing this an email popped up letting us know that it is official, we are boatless. The money is in the account. A celebration of some sort is in order. There were a lot of chat room guys that thought I was an idiot for posting the good, the bad, and certainly the ugly about our Wildcat, but we always felt it would work out. Honesty is the best policy and all that. Not to mention all that good karma we received for doing our part to bring down Charter Cats.
The boat sold for $17k less than we paid for it. A depreciation of about $4,000 a year, or roughly 2.5%, about normal I would think. Or you could put it another way and say it depreciated at the rate of 50 cents per mile sailed. Put that way I would guess it fared much better than most boats. Of course we did have to dump a small fortune into it back in New Zealand, but that was simply money to fix the boat and bring it back up to standard, not exactly a capital improvement that we could expect a return on. Either way we’re happy it’s done and we can start earning a positive return on that money again.
february 13 2008 : ixtapa, mexico (87 nights in the bus : 11,784 miles)
The past couple of days have been really hard on us. While we should have been celebrating the sale of the boat we were instead finding Libre a new home. It started with some internet research which basically told us that to get Libre into the U.S. he would need his rabies shot, but he couldn’t have that until he was between 3 and 4 months old. After that he’d need to wait another 30 days before going across the border. Barring this he would have to spend four weeks in quarantine. All of this ruled us out, since we needed to be back to the States well before that for the Great Race.
We then had a conversation at the campground in Zihuatanejo with a couple of Canucks who had been coming there for years and had a couple of Mexican mutts themselves. They told us about a nice lady who ran a Humane Society in town. They knew her and highly recommended her as somebody who truly cared about animals and would only place dogs in good homes. Before we could convince ourselves otherwise we decided to head over there and check it out.
When we got there we found they had a booth set up next to the basketball court in the heart of town and it didn’t take long to find the little Mexican lady who ran the place. Ali and I both knew this was it. We’d saved Libre from the highway and had told ourselves all along that we were just foster parents to him, but it didn’t make it any easier. She took us upstairs where we found there were only three other puppies and a couple of cats. That helped ease our minds a bit since she ran a no kill shelter and there were apparently so few animals in need of a home.
About this time Ali and I started bawling like babies. I honestly couldn’t believe how upset I was. We both were. It had only been ten days but we were hopelessly in love with this puppy. The lady assured us that she would have a good home for him in one day. The vet told us two. Either way, it sounded pretty good. We couldn’t have him wasting away in a cage for days and days. We finally choked out our goodbyes and handed him over.
Walking away from that place was about the hardest thing we’ve ever done. Driving down the road was even harder. We pulled over numerous times, each of us having to assure the other that it was the right thing to do. Our goal from the moment we picked him off the road was to find him a home and give him the best chance for a good life that we could. We drove and drove for hours, completely unable to hold it together or to get our minds off of him for even a moment. The bus already felt empty without him lying between us on the bench seat.
We eventually landed at a trailer park a hundred miles or so north of Zihua where we spent the rest of the night agonizing over our decision. We both knew it was the right thing to do and that he’d be happy, but we ached over it anyway.
Overnight I couldn’t sleep. I laid there all night trying to figure out a way that we could make it work. The master plan I came up with after hours of sleeplessness was to find a vet that I could bribe to fudge the date on his paperwork, so we could get him into the country earlier. Maybe not my best thought out plan. By 5 a.m. I’d had enough. I woke Ali up and told her I wanted him back. She did too. We didn’t know how we were going to make everything work, but knew it somehow would.
We drove like absolute maniacs for the next couple of hours, arriving at the shelter just as they were setting up their stand in the plaza. We’d told ourselves that if he wasn’t there then it was meant to be. And the same would hold true if he were. As we walked up we could see three sets of puppy feet in the big cage, but there was a cover over it and we couldn’t really see. Before we got a chance to look, the lady saw us and with a big smile on her face told us that he was gone. It must have looked like we’d been hit with a bat the way we staggered backwards. She happily explained that a family with children had brought him home the day before. He’d only spent a couple of hours there. We managed to say thank you before turning around and crying some more.
It was so stupid. Ten measly days and we were a wreck. We were willing to completely change our lives around, break some immigration laws, and commit ourselves to 15 years of dog ownership, over ten days with a puppy. Again, we both knew that the fact that he had been adopted was a good thing. We told each other that over and over and over again. Ten days earlier he was crossing a busy highway, malnourished, and scared. Now he is happy, healthy, and has a home with people who love him. It should have been a happy ending for us, but we still spent the rest of the day agonizing over how badly we missed him. On the beach Ali said, “I miss him.” At the restaurant Ali said, “I miss him.” Driving down the road Ali said, “I miss him.” And all I could say was, “I miss him too.”
But we told ourselves that if he wasn’t there this morning that it was meant to be, and that turned out to be right. When we checked email later on we found one that we’d been waiting on for a little while. There is about a 90% probability at this point that Ali and I are going to be racing around the world this summer. A couple of weeks ago I told Ali that I thought I was going to be pretty bummed out if we got to Vancouver after running the North American leg of the Great Race and we had to end it there and say goodbye to all the other racers heading off to China and beyond. We talked about it for a while and she finally said, as cliche as it may sound, “We should go big or go home, that’s what we always do.” And now that’s what we’re going to do. It’s going to eat up a huge chunk of our resources, but we truly believe that this is a once in a lifetime event. We also believe that we can win the thing, which would mean some serious prize money to make up for it.
So, as of now our short term plans have changed pretty dramatically. Instead of continuing to Costa Rica and flying home for the North American leg which would have taken about six weeks of our time, we are driving back home to prepare and participate in what will probably be about a six month event. This thing is going to be awesome. It’s the 100 year anniversary running of the first Great Race which took place essentially to prove that the automobile was a viable alternative to the horse and buggy. And now we’re running it again. The race starts in Times Square, continues across Canada, from where the cars will be flown to Shanghai, China. We’ll race for close to a month across China and Khazakstan, before winding our way through Europe and ending at the Eiffel Tower in Paris. We cannot wait.
february 17 2008 : zihuatanejo, mexico
We sort of screwed ourselves up by driving back the other morning to try and get Libre back. We were already about a hundred miles north when we did it, so once we were back here it felt silly to drive all the way back up again. Especially since we plan to head that way again next week after Ali’s family leaves. So instead we spent the last three days in Zihuatanejo. And to say we’re bored would be an understatement. Because we’re not interested in buying cheap silver jewelry, marble chess sets, or going parasailing, there really isn’t much in this town for us. The place is really a lot more touristy than we originally thought. Walking around downtown when there is a cruise ship in port is not a fun experience.
The fact that the beach was rated as the dirtiest in Mexico just two years ago sort of puts a damper on swimming around here as well. As do the crocodiles swimming along the shoreline. Seriously, there is a little estuary here with a whole bunch of crocodiles in it. One is about ten feet and spends all day basking in the sun underneath a rickety old bridge ten yards from the tourists on the beach. Then yesterday the water stayed empty as a little 5 footer swam back and forth along the shoreline all day long.
But honestly we don’t really care, it’s three days out of our lives. We really don’t see how RVers can settle down in places like this for months on end though. It just seems so boring. Sit on a touristy beach all day saying no thank you to the wooden elephant carvers and hair braiders, then come back in to cook your own dinner, and spend the rest of the night watching satellite television with the air conditioner cranking. We’re not saying what they do is wrong, just that it isn’t for us. We’d go insane. Three days of it and we are pulling our hair out. It’s a good thing family arrives today.
february 25 2008 : barra de nexpa, mexico
It’s been a week already. Time has just slipped away. We’ve spent the past few days with family in Ixtapa. It was great to see everyone and especially our niece and nephew again. The kids are finally old enough that they enjoy the ocean and the big waves, which made hanging out on the beach a lot of fun. So much fun in fact that I managed a face plant on the ocean floor while boogie boarding. I lost a couple hunks of skin above and below my eye which I thought made me look tough, but everybody else seemed slightly disgusted by. The kids of course managed to negotiate the waves without any problem whatsoever.
The days passed with big family breakfasts in the morning, days on the beach with sandcastles and boogie boards, temporary tattoos all over the kid’s bodies, afternoons at the pool playing tag, and dinner at one of the million or so restaurants lining the only road in Ixtapa. Typical family fun.
After a tough goodbye with the kids, Ali and I headed north again. Along the drive we got stopped at a checkpoint and had an awkward moment as the military boy found our bag of dog food and inquired where our dog was. We assured him we didn’t have a dog, to which he held up the dog food bag as proof of our lie. Eventually, seeing that there was nowhere to hide a dog in the bus he let it go.
We pulled off the highway and onto a narrow dirt road which led us down to the ocean and the tiny town of Barra de Nexpa. This is the first true surfers hangout we’ve found. There is really nothing but a dirt road lined with coconut trees, mostly ramshackle cabañas for rent on the ocean side, and palapas to camp under on the other side.
We made ourselves comfortable underneath a palapa and have spent the past couple of days just hanging out reading, sunning, and eating at a great little restaurant with one of the best beach side locations we’ve ever seen. I’ve of course made attempts once again to surf, but I swear my skills are actually deteriorating. I’ve always been an athlete and pretty capable at any sport I’ve tried, but surfing is truly defeating me. I just can’t get any better at it. I may actually need to break down and take a second lesson at some point. Ali’s pointers from her vantage point on the beach don’t seem to be doing the trick.
We’re still both missing Libre every day. We’ve gotten to the point that we’re happy we saved him and found him a home, but still, every day that we’re sitting on a beach or hanging out around the bus we talk about how great it would be if he were there with us. Libre would love this, or Libre would have so much fun here. We can’t stop ourselves.
As for the Great Race, we still haven’t made it 100% official, but we’re almost there now. In the meantime we have to throw this out there. We need sponsors. So if you know anybody with a business that might be interested in having their name all over the winning car of the 100th anniversary running of the greatest auto race of all time, then please let us know.
february 27 2008 : rincón de guayabitos, mexico
We’re sort of in limbo at the moment, not sure whether to head for home or to stay put. We’re pretty confident that the Around the World race is going to happen, but if it doesn’t then the last place we want to find ourselves in March is in the States. Despite that we’ve continued north the last couple of days. It’s really pretty uninteresting driving along a coast road which never actually takes us within view of the coast.
Our priorities are switching now though, and we’re really starting to focus on what we need to do to make this race a success and what we want to do afterwards. We’ve decided that the opportunity to find ourselves in Europe with the Porsche probably won’t come again any time soon, so after completing the race in Paris we’re going to spend a few months touring. Europe in a little yellow 356, what could be more fun than that?
february 29 2008 : los mochis, mexico
Lots and lots of miles the last couple of days. It’s hard for us to believe we were even that far south. Mexico is a lot larger than you tend to think it is. Driving along this stretch of road, which is really a main artery to the United States, there are a lot of checkpoints.
Yesterday started out with us getting pulled over by the Federal Police. They were sitting on the side of the road with their lights flashing, when they waved us over. We see these guys doing this quite a bit, but have never seen them with anything but a truck stopped. Ali’s starting to lose her patience with all the searches and stops, and she was fuming when these guys first walked up to the car. But she cooled off quickly when the cops came up and started shaking our hands, asking us what year the bus is and if they could have a look, etc. etc. You just have to laugh when this happens. I can’t imagine what would happen back home if the cops just started stopping people for no other reason than to look at their car.
The searches continued all day long, military, agricultural, the Mexican DEA, you name an organization and they’ve tapped our bus, and admired our fancy interior. At one stop we saw a whole bunch of cars being taken apart with screwdrivers and electric drills. We were freaking out at that one, but luckily our guy just enjoyed practicing his English on us for a minute before waving us on.
Then today our avoidance of the toll roads came to a screeching halt. We don’t even know what happened really. One minute we were on the libre, and the next we were in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around but a cuota (toll) booth. The toll was only about $1.50 per 100 miles, which seemed awfully cheap considering that all the RVers complain about how expensive the tolls are. Yet I was still pissed that my streak had been broken, the Mexican “man” had beat me. The thing is, somewhere along the road the regular cuota merged onto my road. We couldn’t figure it out.
Being on the cuota things really changed for the worse. After a couple of hours we came around a corner and found hundreds, if not thousands, of semis stopped all over the road. There had obviously been an accident somewhere up ahead. We followed a line of cars that were making their way in to the ditch, and after a couple of miles made it to an exit. There the line of cars came to a stop. For two hours we inched our way along a dusty road trying to bypass the explosion and fire that I’d been told had caused the problem.
And best of all, as we were inching along at an average speed of one mile an hour, a bus and a car got in an accident. They blocked the road for thirty minutes waiting for a cop to come and tell them they could go. It’s not as simple as exchanging insurance information and going along on your merry way here.
By the time we were back on the road we were exhausted. We had only been thirty miles from our destination, but now it was nearly dark. We were flying along again and almost to our town when traffic stopped again. This time an accident was blocking the outside lane. It was the kind of nasty accident that you are sure somebody died in. Then a hundred yards farther on we found out what had caused the accident in the first place. In the inside lane there was a body, just lying there with a few cops around it as we drove past ten feet away. The highway was a busy one, and there are people running from one side to the other all the time. This guy didn’t make it. It was a pretty gruesome end to a crappy day of toll road driving. I take back any harsh words I’ve ever had for topes. In fact, topes are life savers. Ali’s been saying it all along, but she was always referring to the dogs before.
