The highway was above average, crater wise 80 percent of the time. Getting closer to our finish line, we noticed one
Highway Patrol officer in a gray Mustang with a speeding customer.
All was fine including traffic. Not too many cars. As we entered a l o n g concrete bridge over a salty marsh, the left rear tire started a noise, reminding yours truly of a locomotive. But it got stronger and stronger. Suddenly I realized it. The flapping sound was the shredded flat tire.
Images of dismembered people in pieces while changing a tire on the shoulder of Puertorican highways by speeding cars came to mind like newsreel.
I kept driving slowly on the l o n g bridge and out of the blue, the gray Mustang was right behind me.
I stopped our car and he did likewise. Coming out the car almost at the same time, there was no need to talk, I pulled out the jack, while he loosened the bolts.
The speeding cars were passing as if nothing was happening, but the presence of Cedenho, the kind, professional police officer, helping us, offered some minimal sensation of security.
I pulled the spare, placed it , tightened the bolts and noticed it was low on air!
We told the officer how much appreciated was his help and went looking for the tire shop about a mile away following his directions.
Two rear tires wear bought. The service was quick, efficient and professional.
We hit the road again and landed in Maunabo City, a clean, sophisticated place. One oddity of this place is that the beauty of its mountains are as attractive at the Caribbean sea from most angles. There is beauty.
To watch crabs as some watch frogs in Calaveras County, competing was a trip, a first, in a town where there were no weeds or garbage around.
The live music and dj were adequate, in quality and sound level. The food was tasty, the people relaxed and polite. The crab scary and cute at the same time.
Today was a day of reckoning. Puercorico as I have mentioned before, is not the ugly nasty San Juan Metro Zone I have to inhabit. As a declared misanthropist, for the record, Maunabo, the adventure of getting there, the people, the scenery, ALL gave your humble servant a little hope regarding the possibility of a better place to live
with respect to FLORA/FAUNA and energy to continue my vocation, criticism.
Apaga i vamonos...
'Por un sendero de mayas, arropas de cundiamores'. Or a path with agavaceas blanketed by momordica charantia*.
FROM THE EDITOR
One of my future projects is to take a poem or a few of interest and present it with the botanical names
for those who do not know
what is named/mentioned.