True To Life Story

Not many things scare me, maybe because while growing up I learned that the more you jump, cringe, or try to escape the more your advisory would enjoy inflecting unpleasantries on me. This didn’t stop one particular bully, but most others. As I am thinking of my youth, I think of a specific event, (that connects with this story later.) In the mid 60’s, I was at High Cliff State Park with 2 friends. We biked there for a swim in Lake Winnebago and other adventures we could find. We attempted to ride up; with great effort, we got ¼ of the way. I assume most bikers could do it now with the 18 speed bikes, if the road were still there, I guess you must be old to remember the old road at High Cliff State Park. Well, back to my bike, it was a single speed (I dreamed of the day I could get a 3 speed) with coaster brakes, either dead on or full off. After a day of hiking, climbing trees, and exploration; we concocted another adventure, let’s go down the hill without using our brakes. We three agreed and down we went. Less that ¼ of the way, I realized the stupidity of it and also noticed that I was leading because they already applied some slowing; I could only apply some stopping; this didn’t work because I would skid losing control, so I decided to concentrate on the only thing I could control, steering, another feature needed on this winding road. I met one car that was going up; fortunately on the straight part. I also met a lilac bush at the bottom of the hill. I tried to avoid it but could not because of excess speed, but it proved to be a much softer landing than anticipated. I dusted myself off, dried the bloody scratches, straightened my glasses, retrieved my bike from the bush, and hobbled by way to the roadside to wait for my friends that had slowing options. This story is fresh in my mind because of yesterday’s adventure; a bus ride “down hill”. A bus ride in itself is an adventure and maybe a future true to life story will highlight this part of daily living in Guatemala.

After some business in Antigua, we rode the bus to Chimaltenango; transferred to another bus and home to Chimazat. The bus route was the back roads through several small villages. I mention the road because of the new appreciation for the main roads and there wide shoulders, the gentle curves, and minimal hills, in comparison that is. Oh yes, the bus ride. . .It started with a run because we saw the bus leaving the parking area. Apparently the run wasn’t needed because the bus continued at a slow crawl through the entire parking area, calling for more riders. Because we ran we got the very front seat, a big advantage when the bus is overfull and you must get off, we also got full view of what was coming. The slow exit caused me impatience, silly me. Through Antigua, we stopped at every other corner for more riders, actually stopped isn’t correct it’s more like ¼ of the way down High Cliff hill, the brakes are applied with full force (this bus had good air brakes) the bus didn’t slide out of control like I did on my bike but, did as I release the brakes before stopping, apparently not wanting to waste time or ineresha with a full stop. The new riders would jump on “on the fly” it is now obvious why there are several grab bars around the door. Just outside the city, we were stopped by a funeral procession. Because of the congestion caused by the funeral, traffic was slow; this gave me a chance to notice how close the mirrors of an oncoming bus or truck actually are. To my amazement, the driver wasn’t the least bit concerned about it even as traffic cleared a bit and speeds increased. Apparently an inch is enough.

Our ride continued and we were now in 3rd place behind another bus and a car, one curve later in second place. The other bus driver as skilled as ours and with as fervent of a desire to get the next rider. About ¼ mile later there was one and he foolishly slowed to pick her up. With percice reaction time we swerved around and now the trophy was ours. With open road and on a downhill advantage nothing could catch us now. This is when I noticed the shoulder of the road isn’t’ really a shoulder but instead a rain gutter.

Remember when it rains here, it really rains and this gutter measuring about 1 foot deep and 1 foot across would fill with water to road level and one could under compensate the 4 inch painted line dividing the race track from the pits. You may think it OK to crowd the centerline and it would be if you remember that a bus / truck can afford you ½ inch, the steady hand and keen watch kept us in position for the checkered flag. Hmm, what was that as I saw a black hole blur past. So with undistracted view, I watched as another and another blurred past. It’s the sewer for the rain water, and black hole is an accurate description at 3 to 4 feet across, these uncovered death traps start at the painted lines. Wow that would stop you even quicker that a lilac bush.

From a side street comes this crazed motorcycle driver; I assume he is crazed because he thought ¼ mile head start would be enough. Now I know that passengers don’t have the same view as the driver and things my look closer to me that to him but with the entire cycle and driver blocked from view over the hood, that’s close. I wouldn’t call it tailgating but instead grilling. Two seconds later, a little swerve and oh no, 4 people waving us in, this could cost us a full stop and the coveted flag.

While know that the front seat in a roller coaster adds to the adrenaline, and I love it, I also know I didn’t always make the best decision. Well, I guarantee the front seat on this route will be occupied by someone else in the future. I’m not saying I was scared… I expected to stop trembling as I hobbled my way to the next bus.

Dennis Santkuyl