Tuesday, May 25, 2010

The road trip!

We made it to Guatemala! The road trip went great. Almost too great, actually. While we were absolutely relieved at the time, in retrospect the lack of harrowing escapes or near catastrophes seems almost seems anticlimactic. But we accomplished our main goal—the transport of a ’94 Toyoya, carrying a cargo of medical supplies, driver and passenger, 30 degrees south.

The trip began more or less on May 1st. My copilot was Caroline, my girlfriend from Montana. Our chariot was a ’94 Toyota pickup truck I’d bought for a thousand bucks from a Big Sky lifty two years before. She’d come with a bone-dry dipstick, no explanation whatsoever for her extensive physical damage, and the moniker “White Thunder”.

We spent our first week zig-zagging across the southwest, mostly in Utah and Arizona. The drive clipped corners of Colorado and New Mexico as well, and with Montana, Wyoming, and Idaho on the way down, we tallied seven states on our way to the border. We hiked for a full day in Zion National Park, spent another day through Bryce and Grand Staircase-Escalante, drove through Capitol Reef to Moab, and then visited Canyonlands and Arches—by that point suffering slightly from park fatigue. At night we’d camp out, sleep in the back of the truck, or couch-surf at friends’ houses.

Camping out outside of Zion National Park

One memorable day was spent on the Salt River in Arizona, where a dozen of my rafting buddies were wrapping up the spring season. Our plan was to ride along, but an extra carload of tourists pulled up at the last minute, and the manager offered me the chance to guide. Of course I knew absolutely nothing about the rapids, history, or geology of the river, and hadn’t even been on the water for over a year. I didn’t get tipped, but we made it down with only two people thrown in the drink (and one of them was Caroline, which doesn't really count).

200K!

From the Salt we drove to Tucson to buy provisions and prepare for the big border crossing. That night White Thunder celebrated her 200,000 mile birthday as we pulled into camp.

Although I'd spent quite a bit of time traveling in Mexico before, I didn't know quite what to expect behind the wheel. The past months I’d gotten all sorts of helpful advice about kidnappings, breakdowns, crooked cops, customs seizures, and onward. To tell the truth, even making it through Arizona had seemed a challenge—my plywood-patched window, high-collared Guatemalan jacket and Mexican folk CDs seemed to beg for a document check.

Monday morning we arrived at the border by nine. The line of trucks waiting to cross in the other direction looked to be several miles long, but our truck was all alone. We bounced through a maze of paperwork, fees, declarations and car searches, and then found ourselves facing the open road. ¡México!

San Carlos, the first night on the ocean

I’d heard enough about border towns I figured it wasn't worth poking around Nogales. Instead, we merged onto the highway headed south across the Sonoran desert, toward the Sea of Cortez.
Our route was about the longest but flattest one available—along the length of the Pacific Coast. For anyone following along on a map, our stopping points were San Carlos, El Fuerte, Mazatlán, Sayulitas, an empty beach in Michoacán, two nights in Zihuatenejo, Playa Ventura, and Puerto Escondido.

The oil check, a twice-a-day ritual

At first we dutifully remained on the cuotas—privately-owned expressways recommended by travel guides, patrolled by federales and funded through extortionist toll booths. Contrary to initial expectations, we stuck out like a sore thumb. Mercedes, Land Rovers, and sleek tour buses whizzed by our chugging plod. After two days, we’d had enough. Judging from the ominous flicker of the check-engine light, the truck had too.

We exited onto the infamous libres, figuring we’d see the countryside and save our wallets. The road was full of potholes, diesel-belching trucks passing on blind curves, and dropped into garbage-filled ditches with no shoulders. But it somehow felt right. White Thunder withdrew her objections, and we were on our way.

The taco stands, speed bumps, and military checkpoints blended into a recurring haze. But the evolution of the landscape attested to our progress. We passed Saguaro cacti, thorny scrub, Agave fields, endless banana plantations, swampy lowlands with blood-red sunrises, pristine beaches, rocky coastlines, industrial ports, and city slums.

Watching the sun rise over the Sonoran Desert

Of course May was the hottest month, and we had no A/C. To beat the heat, we’d start at sunrise and try to be off the road by early afternoon. Despite that, most hours were spent with all windows down, conversation or music drowned in the wind, and dripping with sweat.

In the Oaxacan ithsmus town of Juchitán, Caroline got food poisoning and we holed up an extra day to let her recover. Juchitán is unique for its matrimonial society, accepted transvestite subculture, and huge street festivals. May is the biggest party month of all, featuring the Tirada de Frutas, when women throw fruit from the roofs onto the men in the street below.

Caroline taking a photo of the Chiapas lowlands

Over the last few days, the surrounding had slowly been conforming to my associations with Guatemala. We saw women wearing traditional woven garments, fruit stands appeared on the roadside, and thunderstorms rolled in from the ocean every afternoon. We also drew encouragement from the rising number of old, worn Toyota pickups we saw on the road. White Thunder was coming home!

Up into the highlands!

After almost two weeks in Mexico, we crossed in Guatemala at the city of Tapachula. Starting at sea level, we gained ten thousand feet over a morning, switchbacking into cool, tropical highlands. Central America’s tallest volcanoes loomed over us.

At the end of the trip, on the streets of Panajachel

After a night in Quetzaltenango, we descended to Lake Atitlan. Our triptometer had rolled over four times during the drive, and now read 800. We’d made it! Our journey was over. Although as we were soon to learn, the adventure was just getting started…