My first real map adventure was with a non-profit medical organization called Los Amigos de las Americas, which is headquartered in Houston and sent high school kids all over central and south America during the summer to do medical, health and hygiene projects. They're still around today, adjusting their sphere of support as global conditions change.
Anyway, to kick off the 1967 summer season we had 9 brand-new Ford 3/4 ton pickup trucks to convoy from Houston to Tegucigalpa, Honduras, stopping in Guatemala to drop off two trucks and some route leaders for projects there and then continued on.
I was in the first truck which had a slide-in camper on the back and a mobile Ham Radio transceiver in the cab and a friend, Steve, was in the last truck in the convoy - all of the other pickup trucks had just a pickup cap on the back. Steve's truck had a similar Ham set so we could talk between trucks (we were also talking to hams all over the World as we drove along, but that's for another story).
I was accompanied in the lead truck by a 53-year-old member of the organization's Board of Directors. His name was Perry and he took care of everything because the rest of us 17 drivers were all under 21. Perry excelled at just about everything - except reading maps. He was terrible, absolutely terrible at it. We even had a set created by AAA which had the preferred route highlighted in yellow but he was forever second-guessing the map because he never, ever, knew where the hell he was. He had an absolute heart of gold, but could never look at a map and tell where he was or how to get to where he wanted to go. Every morning, Steve and I would grab the maps from my cab and hide out in the camper to come up with a list of what roads to take, where any turns were by local landmarks/towns/cities and so forth and then I would tape the list to the side of the Ham set under the dash, so I could see it and know where to go. As a precaution, Steve and his buddy Bill, in the last truck, would have the same list and would call me on the radio before any change and wake me up to an upcoming course change - Perry would then know, too and everyone was cool. Sometimes those two would have to convince Perry we were going the right way - I just kept driving.
The trip was supposed to take five days to Tegucigalpa, but we lost several days in Brownsville, TX after the first day of traveling, when we had wheel/tire troubles on all the trucks and had to wait for Ford and Firestone to figure it all out.
When we finally left Brownsville, we all decided to do double days to make up time, so we drove well into the night each night, often arriving at pre-arranged hotels (all notified of our delay) around Midnight and leaving before 8am - all of the trucks had two drivers so one could nap while the other drove. All of the roads through Mexico and Guatemala were beautiful asphalt stretches where we could really let the trucks go, except that the camper on mine drove the gas mileage to under 6mph if I got it much over 70, so we just did longer days and drove a lot in the dark. Besides, PEMEX gas in Mexico was terrible and I often had trouble even getting to 60, let alone anything over that. Here's the caravan, hurtling through the El Salvador mountains:
Occasionally, either day or night, some of the trucks would get caught behind a slower vehicle that I had already passed up front, so Steve and I developed a system where I would tell Steve (in the last truck) via radio if it was safe to pass ("no oncoming traffic after the blue Dodge") and he would flash his headlights. The trucks between us would start passing until he held his lights on steady to tell them to stay put. The guys got good at signaling forward, especially in the mountains when roads became curvy. Steve and I also found that we could usually convince Perry that we were going the right way and Perry actually got pretty good at talking on the Ham radio, like an intercom between trucks. Once, when he woke up from a nap I was talking with another Ham operator so I handed the mike to Perry to say hi!
After doing his intro he asked the Ham where he was, expecting him to be nearby in Mexico. "Oh, I'm Germany, but Chet is in Denmark and Ron is in the UK".
"What? There are three of you in there? In this tiny box?"
That one had me laughing for a while.
A few ancient photos of the trip: My camper-truck with Perry getting in. Look just above Perry's head to see my Ham Radio antenna on the side of the truck:
We ended up an a traffic jam in Guatemala when a molasses tanker overturned when the driver fell asleep at the wheel and drove off the road. Here is the traffic jam while we waited for a road grader to push the molasses off of the road - it was about a foot deep near the tank. Those white pickups are all ours and my white camper is up a bit on the left side of the road. That's my roomie, Bill, standing on the cap.
Of course, we all waked down to see the dead tanker, too.
And here's the highway crew getting the road clear. They don't usually have this much excitement around there, for sure.
