XE1/N5AL
09-16-2012, 11:24 PM
Today, I got back home from a drive across Central Mexico. At one point, I passed a very small town and remembered what I had seen at that same spot, back in 2008:
I was driving eastward, passing down the winding mountain highway. Coming around a curve, I saw that the traffic in front of me had stopped. From my high vantage point, there were miles of cars along the serpentine path, leading downward, in front of me. In many years of driving this highway, I had never seen so many cars. There had to be a bad wreck miles ahead, and unfortunately, there were no detours to get around the accident.
After several minutes, the traffic began moving very slowly; just ten, or twenty feet every now and then. Eventually, I got closer and closer ot the action. But, I still couldn't see the accident since it was hidden by some trees around a sharp curve in the road below. I could see dozens of residents of a tiny speck of a town, named Puerta del Rio (Door of the River), rushing to the accident with big five-gallon buckets in hand. I thought: "what a responsive community; there is an accident on the highway and the townsfolk come prepared to help with gallons of water!"
But, as I got closer, I realized those five-gallon buckets were actually empty. There was no water being carried to combat a fire, nor wash down a chemical spill. However, the residents were returning from the accident with buckets that were full. I couldn't tell what they were carrying.
After about forty-five minutes, I got close enough to see the actual accident site. A beer truck had lost control coming down the mountain and had flipped-over around the sharp curve. There were hundreds of broken beer bottles strewn-out across the highway. The residents of Puerta del Rio weren't there to help, they were there for FREE BEER -- their big buckets holding as many unbroken beer bottles that each could carry!
I was driving eastward, passing down the winding mountain highway. Coming around a curve, I saw that the traffic in front of me had stopped. From my high vantage point, there were miles of cars along the serpentine path, leading downward, in front of me. In many years of driving this highway, I had never seen so many cars. There had to be a bad wreck miles ahead, and unfortunately, there were no detours to get around the accident.
After several minutes, the traffic began moving very slowly; just ten, or twenty feet every now and then. Eventually, I got closer and closer ot the action. But, I still couldn't see the accident since it was hidden by some trees around a sharp curve in the road below. I could see dozens of residents of a tiny speck of a town, named Puerta del Rio (Door of the River), rushing to the accident with big five-gallon buckets in hand. I thought: "what a responsive community; there is an accident on the highway and the townsfolk come prepared to help with gallons of water!"
But, as I got closer, I realized those five-gallon buckets were actually empty. There was no water being carried to combat a fire, nor wash down a chemical spill. However, the residents were returning from the accident with buckets that were full. I couldn't tell what they were carrying.
After about forty-five minutes, I got close enough to see the actual accident site. A beer truck had lost control coming down the mountain and had flipped-over around the sharp curve. There were hundreds of broken beer bottles strewn-out across the highway. The residents of Puerta del Rio weren't there to help, they were there for FREE BEER -- their big buckets holding as many unbroken beer bottles that each could carry!