The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-04-11


when he pleases. in search Of odd stories
abcut this and that.
TAMAzUNCHALE. Mexico, April
Il 1.-THE fourth day on the
drive from Texas to Mexico City.
Only so miles today. 1t seems silly
to idle So. But when YOU come,
urge you to do just the same. It
would be plain cruelty to yourself
not to stay half day here in
Tamazunchale.
BY the time you get up around
7:30, back at Banito Courts, all the
mad-rushing tourists have long
gone. Some left before daylight.
That leaves you to eat breakfast
in peace. After that you and
Polish engineer who stays there will
walk around the dewy tropical
countryside for an hour or so, and
he will show you the banana trees,
and the mangoes, the wild plumS,
the avacadoes, and the wild green
parrots flying in droves. always two
Ny kWOt ditQ 1cLkldlC.
FINALLY, about 9, you get start
Il ed. Two miles of pavement
and that's the end of it for a long
time
Now you're on the real core of the
Pan-American Highway, the part
that's still being worked on. You
don't hit the horror stretch UNI
til tomorrow out of Tamazunchale,
but today's drive will get you ready
for it.
This so miles from Banito to Ia
mazunchale we made in three
hours. Most people make it in two.
1t is safe. but slightly uncomforta-
BILE. and 20 miles an hour was all
the humping we cared to take.
The road is wide. 1t has been
covered with rock. Not crushed
rock. Just whole, round, yellow
rocks. Where it's fresh, the going
is very slow and skiddy. Where it's
worn down hard, it's extremely
rough; the surface is like worn-out
cement, full of holes, and rocks stick
out of it.
Seven miles from the start, you go
through the thatched-house village
of Pujal, and cross a pontoon
bridge alongside q handsome new
steel bridge, about finished.
From here or the country and the
people change completely.
THE road eases over into the
J. mountains. All along the way,
every inch of the distance from
Monterrey, the mountains have been
lying over there to the west. Some
times only five miles away, some
times 20, but always you could see
them. The Sierra Madre, sometimes
saw-toothed, sometimes a high,
straight ridge. In the morning, faint
and misty. In the afternoons,
silhouetted black against the sun.
Now you go into them. You wind
through valleys. Peaks rise on each
side. Valleys drop off below you
And everywhere the tropical growth
is lush-a green density as high as
the ordinary treetops. A hundred
yards from the road you couldn't
move without cutting your way foot
by foot with machete.
And the people change too. You
come into the pure Indian country.
You seem to leave Mexico and 60
into the Orient. The Indian faces
are distinctly Oriental Monaghan
type.
Men and boys trudge along the
road. most of them barefoot, for it
is hot. They wear white clothes
jacket and pair of pants. The pants
are rolled up to the knees. The
Jackets button up around the neck,
Oriental fashion. They wear wide
cone-shaped straw hats, like the
Japanese.
THE LAST 25 miles into Tama-
l. zunchale is almost a constant
hairpin turn. But the road is wide,
and there aren't many sheer drops
over the side. When you do see
one, it's no more than 40 or so feet.
Finally you come down out of the
mountains, and below you is Tama-
zunchale. The nearest an American
can come to saying it is Thomas
n Charlie" If you spend half a
day here, you can almost do without
seeing the rest of the world.
A swift, blue river runs in a VAL
ley. The town stretches along the
high bank. Close up, on all sides,
tower the great mountains.
Three years ago, hardly anybody
here had ever seen an auto. The
street is still almost too rough for
an auto. Meat hangs in strips in
the open-air butcher shops. Hogs
lie in the middle Of the street.
. You wander about, amazed And.
the fascination of it takes your mind.
off tomorrows drive-the pull over
the big hump that you've been
hearing about ever since you left
Texas.