Mexico Day 71: A white knuckle drive

Metepec to Zapotitlán, Puebla //

Mark and I could not be more on the fence this morning.  We’re caught between driving an hour closer to the volcano and risking being inside the “exclusion zone” which is highly advised to not camp within, or, driving three hours south, into the desert, and out of this very populated area of Mexico.  We’re willing to risk the threat of the volcano, it’s the cold and potential snow we don’t really feel like dealing with.  We leave the decision to Heather & Adam who decide they’d like to head to the desert.  

Because we were so focused on choosing between two very different destinations, we didn’t give enough thought to the two vastly different drives.  While moving closer to the volcano would have taken us an hour through rural countryside and into the forest, the desert spot we had picked out was three hours away via a major connecting highway between large cities.  It was within the first half hour of the drive, when we began to enter the heart of Puebla, a city of 1.7 million, that Mark spoke out loud his lack of energy for this kind of driving today.  I should have recognized his disinterest in a travel day this morning but it was too late, we were in it and the freeway interchanges with confusing lane changes were coming at us fast.  

For three straight hours we went on to experience our most stressful day of driving in Mexico to date.  While still in the city of Puebla a toll booth brought three lanes of traffic to a grinding halt.  The unexpected standstill caught Mark off-guard causing him to put the break pedal to the floor.  We stopped inches short of the truck in front of us.  Meanwhile, Adam managed to get stopped just in time without taking us out from behind.  My heart rate went through the roof while a shot of adrenaline surged through my veins.  The thought of us getting in an accident was devastating.  The thought of the two of our trucks hitting each other was more than I could bear.  

There was so much going on, so much to watch out for, for the entirety of our drive that we could hardly even hold a conversation.  Some of the notable things we witnessed today included…

• A slow moving funeral procession including dozens of people walking beside it while traffic sped around at highway speed.
• A tanker semi weaving around slower moving traffic as if he was driving a sports car.
• A suspension bridge with no suspension and decaying beams beneath it.  (Driving over this bridge added to the days suspense)
• Directional signs pointing at lanes that do not exist.
• No signs for lanes that are merging. 
• Various near head on collisions due to people passing when they shouldn’t be including one car passing within a construction zone that required weaving in and out of barricades.
• A motorbike leading a horse down the road.
• A dead snake nearly as long as the truck is wide.

Today was not our first time experiencing the custom of using a two lane highway for three lanes of traffic (slower moving traffic drives in the shoulder while faster moving traffic passes down the middle) but today was the day I realized we may never get used to it.  The amount of semi truck traffic mixed with fast moving sedans paired with old, broken down vehicles that are far from able to reach the speed limit feels like one big recipe for disaster.  I could feel myself approaching my breaking point when Mark passed a semi while another semi was passing in the opposing shoulder causing us to thread the two giant trucks while moving at 70mph.  Mark’s driving is impeccable and I have complete trust in how he drives, but that can hardly be said for the other driver’s around us.  Just as tears began to well up in my eyes, our exit off of the highway finally appeared.

Ten minutes down a beautiful curvy mountain road and we finally arrived at Jardin Botánico Zapotitlan Salinas, a refuge in the desert offering dispersed campsites tucked in to a dense cactus forest.  After hugging both Mark and Adam and thanking them for their superior driving skills, the four of us got our chairs out, tucked ourselves into the shaded side of our truck, and breathed many sighs of relief.  What was only a three hour drive had exhausted us as though we’d driven for ten.  

All evening I fought with overwhelm over the thought of how far south we now are in Mexico and how much driving remains over the next month or two that we intend to stay in the country.  As with anything in life that feels too massive to comprehend, I had to resolve to take it all one day at a time.  For now, we have the peace and quiet of the desert to recuperate, and the wisdom to know there will forever and always be good days and bad, hardship and ease.  No matter where we are or what we’re doing.  

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