225/75R15 - 5/30/07

Melissa and I just finished celebrating our two year anniversary down South. We found ourselves taking a little side trip, however. As we were heading back into the mountains toward Belmopan, we passed several orchards; the orange groves growing right next to the side of the road. Melissa wished to herself that she could get a closer look at them. That’s only funny in hindsight.

As we were driving along with the windows down, we suddenly heard a terrible screaming noise from the edge of the trees, keeping pace with the truck and causing us to think some unknown jungle animal had flown toward us and was now following along, jaws open wide and talons ready to attack. When our reality checks were cashed, we realized we had only blown a tire. The truck needs an alignment, and on these roads it didn’t take long for the rubber to wear down. After it blew open there was a hole in the side of the tire large enough for a toucan to nest in. Lucky for us, there was no cell service and we were in the middle of nowhere. Wait … that’s not luck.

We tried to get the tire off, only to realize our jack was in fact broken. We had passed a large, walled mountainside estate about a half mile down the road that may or may not have been the home of an international drug lord, so we started walking toward it looking for help. That’s when we noticed the clouds on the horizon. The beginning of June marks the beginning of rainy season, and the clouds indicated that this year’s rains would arrive right on schedule.

Alongside the wall of the house we met Miguel, who was able to find a jack for us behind the compound. We started back toward the truck, just as the rains hit. Rains here are surprising in two ways. One, they are almost exactly like standing under a waterfall. Two, the rain is warm so the water soaking through your underwear is surprisingly refreshing. At first, anyway…

Miguel came along to help, and another local stopped to assist as well. Between the four of us, we were not able to get the tire off the truck. Our only other option was to walk to the nearest phone – which the big house did not have. Melissa and I started to walk in the rain when a woman and her young son emerged from the orchard and told us of the citrus company a mile down the road that had a phone we could use. We walked with her, keeping in mind the lodge Melissa read about in our guide book as we passed this way a couple days earlier.

We arrived at the rusted, rickety gates of the Hummingbird Hershey Citrus Company, Ltd to call the nearby resort. Caves Branch Lodge had vacancy, so we asked for the guest shuttle to pick us up, take us to the truck to get our bags, and to the lodge to dry off. While waiting we learned that the citrus company’s building was once a research outpost for the Hershey chocolate company. They grew nothing there, only used it for “research.” I’m really not sure why Hershey would need a field station in the middle of nowhere and outside the jurisdiction of the FDA and US laws just to figure out how to improve their chocolate … maybe to come up with exciting Wonka-like flavors or search for oompa loompas?

When we got to the secluded, romantic lodge we explained our situation to Oscar, the head handyman. We told him we were comfortable leaving the truck there until tomorrow when we could take a taxi to Belmopan and buy a new tire. He wasn’t comfortable with that. So, he had George, a Romanian in Belize who could only communicate in Spanish, get a tire and drive me to the truck while Melissa played Scrabble with a girl who worked at the lodge. Nothing is simple however. We arrived to discover:

• The tire wouldn’t fit (the holes were too large.)
• George had a bad battery in his truck, which died after we parked leaving two decrepit trucks alongside the highway. “Now that’s what I call ironic.”
• The once-a-year hatching of the “rain bugs” that accompanies the first rain shower had since happened and our truck was swarming with a thick cloud of black-winged termites that can find their way under any clothing. Pestilence, or vacation? You decide!
• After a running start in George’s truck, we went back to Watchman Mitch at the Hershey Co. to ask for a tire, which he had – but without air.
• I had to guard the truck (it was now dark) while George and Miguel took the tire to the big house to put air in it.
• The tire would not hold air, so I had to guard the truck again while George returned to the lodge to try to find a different one. I stood by the road in the rain with a crow bar. I’m handy.
• George returned with Oscar, who knew that the crow bar I held as a weapon was also used to stick in the small hole between the bumper and tail gate. It is the “key” that lowers the spare to the ground, though that’s not how it works in any of the vehicles owned by the people trying to help us. What a versatile tool! It is a weapon, lug wrench, key, crow bar, and I’m sure it could also be used as a shoe horn and back scratcher. Every home should have one of these things.
  

I finally rolled in to Caves Branch for dinner to find Melissa had been adopted by a kind family from Texas. The lodge employees didn’t want her to eat alone, so they asked other guests to sit with her so she wouldn’t have a chance to worry or feel lonely. We spent the rest of the night and next day enjoying our stay at a lush, romantic jungle resort as an unplanned end to our anniversary celebration. We left with some souvenirs: a great T Shirt, road rash from working on the tire, bug bites from standing in the rain at night, and a bag of wet clothing.

Though it was an unexpected detour, the lodge and the tours available there were top notch. I highly recommend checking it out – but on purpose.