RABBIT TRAILS AND MUD RUTS 1955

Bouncing along in our heavily-loaded Jeep, it looked like Dad was making fairly good progress.  The speedometer affirmed that he had traveled ten miles in the last two hours.

Get The Picture?

The narrow, muddy “Camino De Conejos” or “Rabbit Trail" semblance of a road ahead showed no tire tracks, as our Jeep was the first vehicle using the road since the heavy rains of the past month.
Rounding a sharp curve on a slight incline within sight of our destination (Cuautempan), we ran into thick mud up to the bumper.  It appeared a hopeless situation, even with 4-wheel drive.
Then a native believer appeared with a type of hoe.  After digging and pushing, the Jeep slid slowly through the mud hole and continued on into the village.

Across the valley, we could always spot the Jeep coming or going, the ribbon like curving landscape was the road

The last two miles toward our small village of Cuautempan was visible across the valley, all snuggled up at the foot of the mountain.  One of the first noticeable sights at approaching the village was the newly-constructed church standing in the clearing on the mountain side, a testimony to the work of God in Indian territory.

The "road" Rabbit Trail from Tetela to Cuautempan in good weather

Traveling through this stretch, from Cuautempan to Tetela was always a challenge under “perfect” conditions let alone during rainy season. ( Only under dire circumstances did Dad drive during this season of which there were a few.)TOM'S STORY ON MUD & SLIPPERY & OTHER ADVENTURES WITH DAD CLICK HERE 

Dad with a brother (Tom?) in down town Tetela

Back to the previous story, our guest, was making his way back on the same road.(Whether with Dad or not, I don't know.)  According to his report, a truck, seeing our tire tracks in had attempted to follow us in, only to become deeply mired and finally abandoned in the mud about half way along the road- in one of the few places wide enough to squeeze by.  To make it worse heavy rains came again the same day.

CAMINO DE CONEJOS

(The above story is edited from another account to which I added my own recollections of many events such as this.)  Even as a young child, my stress levels went up on these adventures.  I can still hear my mother say to my Dad, “Low Gear, Lorney, Low Gear.”  Advice coming from my mother who never learned to drive herself.

“As the rainy season sets in here in the mountains, our activities are curtailed.  Our thoughts tend to think of our families in the States and not many visits to the out lying villages.”  (Dad)
Come rain, the village men migrate toward the plains in search of work, after weeks and sometime months they often return to eek out an existence of their parcels of land.

For us it was time to break open that box, "Care Package" sent from family and friends.  We feasted on books and gum and devoured anything we could read. We kept the kerosene lamps on longer and drained many flashlight batteries, (we got chewed out for wasting the batteries.)  I made paper dolls out of the models in pattern catalogs or magazines. I would spend hours embroidering and learning to sew.  EMBROIDERY MEMORIES CLICK HERE

Cuautempan at the time while I lived there comprised of three general stores.  Don Abram was the richest man in town and owned one of these stores.  His father had recently passed away ( A Bible was found in his possession at the time of his death.  We did not know the condition of his spiritual life.)
  One day Don Abram just lost it and began to exhibit violent behavior so Dad was asked if he would take them in the Jeep to the mental hospital near Puebla City.
The 5 hour drive proved to be quite a challenge as it took several men who accompanied them to restrain him as he kept trying to reach the steering wheel while Dad was driving.  (this story told to me orally.  I did not find anything about it in any of his journals.)  Several months later Don Abram appeared back home and returned to a normal life.

Our transition to our post in Cuautempan was met with some resistance.  It was not an open type of persecution as back in Zaptotitlan but
Dona Concha, the proprietor of the other store in town voiced her dislike for us “Gringos”.
One day her husband, Don Filiberto, became very ill.  The local student doctor told them that he needed to go to the hospital in Puebla City. 
 Dona Concha said she would never allow her husband to be taken by Dad in the Jeep and there was no other vehicle in town at the time.  He was unable to walk or ride horseback for 3 hrs. and then another 5 hours on the bus.
As Filibertos condition worsened, his eldest brother rescinded Dona Concha’s demands and Dad was allowed to take him into Puebla City. 
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Dr. Myer said that his condition was so severe had they gotten there any later it would have been fatal.
SURELY GOD MAKES THE WRATH OF MAN TO PRAISE HIM!!  Ps.76:10
Shortly after this incident, Dona Concha marched up the hill to our house and presented us with a large basket of coffee beans in appreciation.