Wipeout’s nerves are worsening. She started having panic attacks in Cristobal, triggered by the fireworks and thunderstorms at night. Here in Todos Santos, it is screaming preachers who drive her to biting herself bloody. They are Pentecostal fundamentalists, ranting through a tiny chapel rigged with loudspeakers across the fields. It is 65 degrees and at 7,832 feet we are in a tin can echo chamber. I have never been more grateful for 4-wheel drive – just to get us out of here.
Follow this bonus-material blog and ride along on a one-year road trip that inspired the memoir The Drive: Searching for Lost Memories on the Pan American Highway. On sale now. Get yours through the buy-the-book links at the bottom of the landing page on my teresabrucebooks.com website or here or here. Like The Drive’s Facebook page and tweet back at me @writerteresa.