The road from Hell

Day 310

Semuc Champey, Guatemala

The girl, Kara, I had spent the day sitting in the bank and fixing my brakes on Monday with still hadn‘t come back from Tikal. I was slightly concerned but I really had to leave. I pointed out this information to the good people of Los Amigo hostel and after another spell on the Internet got my stuff together to leave.

Another week gone, another set of doors close and others open. I had finally met some Swedish girls, a pair of cousins from Uppsala who were studying in Lund. They wanted me to come on their 3 day walk to some ruins to reduce the price. I regretfully declined and of course now wonder if that was a mistake. I bet they see a wild Jaguar! :p

It would be $100, not too bad but they were returning via Tikal and I had no major desire to see it a third time. Thinking back these were my forth and fifth Swede I had met in 10 months, one in Puerto Escondido, one in San Cristobal and the girl I freaked out in the phone shop at the very start of my trip in Toronto. At least it would give me more chance to speak Spanish.

I would be needing it for the next leg. After assuming Kara would be coming with me to the waterfalls at Semuc Champey I had neglected to post a notice to see if anyone wanted to come with me. I probably should have gotten my oil pan welded but the road all the way down was the main highway number 5, it would have to be paved right?

The first part of the journey was fine, I got some gas and directions out of town. I took a slightly wrong turn but firing up my laptop and good old Google Earth showed me I would join the road I really wanted soon. My power converter were all broken now so I suspended the laptop and listened to dodgy Guatemalan radio.

The road was good, the best since the US really since Guatemala has mostly avoided the horrible custom of covering their roads with speed bumps. There were a few around, but nothing compared to Mexico. I made good time, the distance wasn’t that great and I made it to the half way mark at Sayaxche after about 2 and a half hours. I took the green goddess over a little ferry too, which was fun. They were moving 3 cars and a gas tanker around with a couple of outboards.

I crossed a rickety bridge at Sebol and the asphalt gave out. So much for the paved highway all the way south. The road was dusty but flat and clear. I would have to be careful about my oil pan though. I tried to turn on my laptop to recheck Google Earth and learned it hadn‘t suspended and was now nearly dead. My first bit of bad luck.

I bumped down the dusty track passing a few cars and trucks and saw a box in the road. I big one that must have just fallen from the truck I had passed. I pulled up and found it was a box of 14 packets of Corn Flakes. The big 600g boxes. I reached down and pulled it onto the front seat. It barely came through the window. Nice find. Shame I didn’t really like cornflakes :p . 100 meters down the road I found a starving dog nosing around another 3 big boxes.

I chucked them all into the van, emptied a box for the starving dog and continued south. What was I going to do with 56 boxes of Cornflakes? It  was 33kg of the stuff. If only they had been Branflakes I would have been much happier. I guess I could sell them, give them away to the locals, eat some or make some chocolate cake things. I started following a beer truck and hoping that would start dropping some of its produce too

My musings about what to do with my sudden windfall was interrupted by a small truck zooming past me but then being blocked by the beer truck. There was a kid in the back sitting on a load of boxes of Corn Flakes. He looked at the pile of Corn Flakes on my front seat, shouted to the driver and they pulled over. I did the same.

He jumped out and started yabbering on in rapid Spanish which I could barely understand. I understood the word ‘Career’ or ‘Job‘ though. He didn’t even wait for me to speak but opened my door and started  grabbing the boxes. I really wasn’t prepared to argue with the guy, and why would I. My slight good fortune would be nothing compared to the grief this would get him into.

I told him he was lucky (I doubt he would get so much compliance from a hungry local) and shook his hand before driving off on my way. I was now hoping this was going to give me some good karma for the road.

The road was getting worse. Someone else had obviously noticed this and decided to spend a few billion Quetzals to get it fixed. Only a few miles after losing my breakfast, so to speak, I came to a bridge which was closed. I gathered they were repairing the road, or at least making it half decent and no traffic could get through now until 6pm. It was 4.30pm and I had just missed the 2-4 slot to get through.

What could I do? I pulled into the shade, dropped my hot water bottle into the nearby stream and had to wait for an hour and a half. I tidied my car as usual, checked the oil, tried to fix my power adapter, studied a few Spanish words, hoping the local truck drivers who also pulled up to wait wouldn’t decide to rob me.

I would have gone fishing but the milky water was polluted with soap powder. The truck drivers washing directly in the stream weren’t helping either. How can they be so short sighted. The sun sank lower and lower and my window for making it to my destination shrank.

At 6pm the cones were moved and I now had a choice between the safety of driving slowly verses the danger of being forced to drive at night. I also had my oil pan to consider which was basically being protected by some hard chewing gum. After a minutes drive I realised they weren’t sealing or improving the road, they were building a whole new one by blasting half the hillside to widen it.

Ignoring the waving construction workers I picked my way across the rocky road, cursing the day I didn’t buy a 4WD. I suppose I could go back but the guy manning the blockade told me it was only 1 1/2 hours to Semuc Champey. I was 3 hours away from Flores. I decided to continue.

This probably wasn’t the best decision. I soon came to the most recent part of the roads construction, a steep section of blasted road that was mostly flat but not quite. My first ginger attempt at it was unsuccessful and I backed up to consider my options. The middle part had several large rocks jutting up, waiting to bleed my oil out so I went up and chucked them out of the way. I was still going to be in serious danger of losing all my oil again.

With one of the workers cheering me on I got back in the car, put it in low gear and gunned the engine. I would have to make it in one shot, it wasn’t so steep that I couldn’t make it, the danger was stopping or tearing the bottom off my van in the attempt.

I really should have had my camera on video mode :p

I picked up some speed and hit the rocks at a fair pace, I could hear them smashing all over the bottom of the car and I wondered, not for the first time, what the hell I was doing. It was 10 seconds of sheer hell, I just kept my foot down and prayed to the gods of Karma that I wasn’t going to spending the night in the jungle.

Tags: nearby, girls, job, swede, dish, shame, locals, third time