Kicking through dusty streets watching cowboys cleaning saddles is a time warp. We could be in wild west America, except the scenes playing out in front of us don’t seem to contain any Indians. Until the day of the big parade. That’s when we see the entrada of the Mapuche. They too ride with long facons tucked in the small of their backs but instead of blousey shirts tucked into pleated riding pants, the indigenous riders wear solemn red ponchos and leather boots as wafer thin as socks.
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. Planning a road trip? Buy the audiobook here. Like The Drive’s Facebook page and tweet back at me @writerteresa. Like travel anthologies? I’m in a brand new one called Alone Together: Tales of Sisterhood and Solitude in Latin America which you can get here.