What's That Sound?

The morning we drove our tiny 'Tic Tak' of a car over the hill and through the jungle, was bright and sunny with high clouds giving us a perfect day to... die a horrible death. The road through this jungle pass was what the guide books had been referencing as "crap", OK maybe they didn't use that specific word, but there was not much to call a road. It was that kind of road that would make a 20 mile trip, take all day. But we didn't care, we had all day, and if needed we could cut the trip short and return to one of the charming road side restaurant/ bars, the ones that had open palapa style patios overlooking the breathtaking town of Jardin. Maybe one of those bars should have been the entire destination for the day, but we didn't know that till later.

As we bobbed up and down, jostled by the holes in the road, we marveled at the grandeur of the cliff-side this road was cut into. Skinny waterfalls snaked through the lush green and sheer drop-offs made our palms sweat. We climbed higher and higher, stopping to take photos of each flower, like Dorothy in the 'Wizard of Oz', in pure wonder of each plant we saw. The road came to meet the clouds and we found ourselves in yet another, somehow new, jungle world. This area was so magical and beautiful that even the cows were gorgeous. At one point, we stopped to watch as a brand new, jet black baby cow was urged to stand on his wobbling legs by his huge mother. Their giant back humps and big floppy ears made them cuddle worthy. Their coats, clean and short, almost shining, made them add to the mountainous countryside view in a picture perfect way.

After a solid couple hours meandering up this now muddy road, we discovered that we would never have time to drive all the way to the next town, and with the road turning to soup with each roll of the tire, we knew the 'Tic Tak' wasn't going to make it; we decided to turn back. It is important at this juncture to mention that as we had climbed ever upward, there had been a specific spot in the road where rocks had fallen, not bad, but enough to take note and to draw our attention to the sudden disappearance of earth to the side of the car which plummeted 1000ft down to a river. Most people would have seen this as an ominous sign, but being that my husband and I are from rural Northern New Mexico (where it is a form of entertainment to try to kill yourself via bad road romping), we did not. However, as we returned to that spot, we found large rocks had since been tossed into our path. Again putting my Northern New Mexico skills to work, I jumped out of the car to throw the largest of the rocks out of the way for my husband to navigate the car through. As I heaved rocks off the cliff, Jesse took pictures of me, suddenly something seemed off about this arrangement. You are thinking it was that I was the one in the road tossing heavy rocks while my husband relaxed in the car, but while true, that was not what gave me pause. In fact it was the low sound of a rumble, slight, easy to miss, then the unmistakable sound of rock bouncing off of rock.

I looked up, hands muddy, just in time to see an avalanche of rocks headed for me. I scrambled over the unsteady ground, my cute leather flats becoming the glaringly wrong footwear for the outing. My heart racing and my eyes almost as big as the rocks the mountain was hurling at me. I don't know if Jesse saw it at the same time or if my panicked running cued him to looking up the steep mountainside, but as I approached the driver's side of the car, mentally willing it to get out of the way, Jess threw it in reverse. For a few yards I ran alongside the reversing car, trying simultaneously to not have my feet run over and not falling down the 1000ft chasm. The clashing of rocks slowed to a friendly ding as the final few came to a resting place in the road and my heart found a resting place in my throat. Jess instinctively looked at our son who sat wide eyed and mouth gaping in the back seat, making sure he was OK. We all, including the 'Tic Tak' were unharmed...other than the massive heart attack I was having. We exchanged nervous, relieved laughter for a moment and then reality struck, if we didn't get across this, we'd be stuck way up this mountain with evening approaching, the clouds getting blacker and no supplies. Jess quickly conveyed the urgency of the situation to me and I carefully tip toed back toward the path of the landslide. I moved as quietly and carefully as I could, not wanting to awaken the beast yet again. The adrenaline had my heart racing and it thumped in my ears. With shaking hands I ran for it, grabbing the largest of rocks and tossing them to the side as I went, Jesse expertly maneuvered through the path I made behind me.

Once back in the car, safely on our way again, we recounted the harrowing experience and how lucky we were. My head started to hurt and I felt nauseous. I felt shaky and my body buzzed with an ache all too familiar. Adrenaline releases cortisol, a potent, powerful hormone that had been the route cause of my symptoms while battling my brain tumor. I recognized the feeling immediately. I sat in silence for a few moments, full of emotion, partly because that was a scary as shit experience and partly because I knew that the cortisol coursing through me, wouldn't intensify, but would pass, and I was filled with gratitude that I was healthy again.

My son hates when I say corny stuff like "I'm going to really live because I thought I was going to die", and I remember rolling my eyes at statements like that prior to my health battles, but when you dream of far away lands and exotic adventures, when you think of how fiercely you love your husband and child, the thought that you could leave them, never see those places, never do the things you kept saying you'd do 'some day', something happens to you. I don't know that I will ever have the words to describe what it is like, but as I sat quite in the car, bouncing back down the road to our oasis roadside bar, excited laughter bubbling from my son and my husband's reassuring hand on my leg, I felt exquisite joy.

Now the trick is to really 'live it up' without possibly killing us all.

* This blog post is brought to you by the large amounts of wine we consumed to calm our nerves. I find that fear pairs best with a cool clean Chardonnay while anxiety pairs best with a bold Cabernet Sauvignon.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com