Hola...Saludos de Oaxaca,

Good morning everyone. I hope all is well. 4 days, 2500 miles, 2 dozen tacos, 6 searches by the military, and 10,000 speedbumps later - we´ve arrived in La Crucecita - the base point for our project in Oaxaca. Today we will rest, plan out logistics, and talk with some of the people involved in other aid projects in the region.

I know some of you may be curious about the journey, so here´s a brief recap of the last 4 days.

12 October I left Black Mountain, NC (thanks again Walter - next time though, we´re going trail running) around 9:30 a.m. headed west to meet my friends Larry and Leslie Stewart (picture above) in Knoxville, TN. At a McDonalds just off the interstate we said goodbye, as they made the last donation of school supplies for the season. Thanks again guys.

From Knoxville it was smooth sailing all the way to western Louisiana, where at 1:30 a.m. I stopped for a nap at one of those all-inclusive truck stops (you know, the kind where you can buy fuel, groceries, a shower, maybe even some christmas presents?).



13 October 2008
Houston, TX

Rolled into town this morning ahead of a golden sunrise. Living in the mountains, I often forget about that dynamic hour between dawn and day. By the time the sun peeks over the Appalachians, the day has very much begun. Our only glimpse of sunrise comes in the mountains themselves. We watch the sun awaken in the peaks. We see their tops glow with first light, and their flanks transform in descending waves of color.

On the vast, steamy plains of the Gulf Coast there is nothing to block out the sun. There are no mountains to stand in its way, no hills, no ridges. Before it even breaks the horizon, the sun unleashes an anxious display of color, a display that falls over every field and lake. In the mountains only a few fortunate peaks ever witness this daily event. In the plains however, they watch it from every corner.

I picked up my father at the airport and from there turned south, toward Brownsville and the border. The miles ticked by, as like it rose in the morning, the sun sank slowly in the sky.

Picture: waiting for the train outside of Corpus Christi, TX

14 October 2008 Tuxpan, Mexico.

Big Day. We made it through the border with little trouble from the authorities. At the control station 25 km south of Matamoros, the customs official waved us over for the first of several inspections. He asked the usual questions (where are you going, what are you doing, do you have any guns, any bullets?), but released us without a hassle.

We sped through the endless plains of Tamaulipas Province. Driving across Northern Mexico, it´s easy to be misled by the smooth pavement and easy driving. ´This could be anywhere in the U.S.´, I think, until we pass a pair of stick-and-mud shacks leaning against the wind, an old man sitting in the dirt patching holes in a tire.

The fantasy fully vaporized at the border of Veracruz state, when we entered Mexico`s flagship highway repair project. Cars, trucks, and double-length trailers all crowded the crumbling highway headed south to Veracruz.

The topes began.

´Tope´is spanish for speedbump, and they are everywhere in Mexico. Topes guard every town, every village, every bus stop and show no quarter to those who try to deny them. Speedbumps in the States, like the kind you find in a Target parking lot or an elementary school, might jolt your car a bit if you take them too fast. They might even bunny-hop it. Mexican speedbumps will send it airborne without a muffler. They`ll destroy the shocks, gut the undercarriage, and even crack the transfer case if you´re not careful. Topes will drive you mad with their excess, their inconsistency. They´ll make you crave the potholes and craters of the open highway. They´ll force you to utter curses that might never be repented. But there is no escaping the tope. The tope conquers all.

So yeah...we went a little crazy from the speedbumps, but no less reached the day`s goal of Tuxpan, Veracruz. Here is a view of the sunrise in Tuxpan: