More Than We Bargained For

Last Saturday we went up to Samaipata, a small town in the Andes mountains, for a quiet weekend out of the city. Just a week before we had planned to leave, the news showed that one of the bridges between Santa Cruz and Samaipata had washed out from heavy rain. By the time we were planning to go the road had been temporarily repaired and the rain had stopped ... or so we thought.

There is a taxi express service that runs taxis on a daily basis back and forth between Santa Cruz and Samaipata. We called and the taxi service was running so we felt confident in going in our own vehicle. The five of us piled in - me, Charles, Lilly, John and Sharon (Charles' parents) on Saturday morning. We got there no problem.

The way back was another story. Monday we packed the car and headed home. However, just less than 2 hours down the mountain we found quite a few trucks backed up on the single road that leads back to Santa Cruz. After asking around we found out the consensus was the road had been washed out and was impassable. Those waiting told us that it would be Tuesday afternoon most likely before the road would be open again. As a group we decided to drive back up to Samaipata and stay another night.
Monday night the rain came and didn't stop all night. We realized Tuesday the situation would probably be worse and we would stay one more day in Samaipata and make the trek back on Wednesday even if it meant waiting a while.

Wednesday morning we packed the car again and stopped to ask the express taxi service if taxis were making it all the way to Santa Cruz and they laughed. Also the lady in the corner store begged Charles not to take the baby down the mountain. We made the decision to leave the car at the cabin where we stayed and take a taxi down as to not have to leave the car in case we needed to pass some of the "washed out" parts by foot. Charles and I also heard the taxi driver say to a friend that there were three places to cross the river where bridges were down and some walking to do in between. We didn't mention that to John and Sharon since the conversation was all in Spanish and no need to scare them. Also, the problem wasn't going to get any better later in the week as more trucks piled up, there was very little gasoline and the weather forcast was more rain. And John and Sharon were to fly back to the States Saturday morning.

So we started our adventure .... in brief we rode in taxi for about an hour until we had to go down to a ravine by the river and cross while Bolivian men crossed with our suitcases. Charles had Lilly in the Snugli in front of him. It was quite a start. Then we walked ... and walked ... and walked. We were headed down the mountain with a slight breeze, no rain and suitcases on wheels - so we had a lot to be thankful for. We had also brought bottles of water and food for the trip down. I somehow managed to nurse Lilly walking down the mountain as well - a time saver for sure.


Every once in a while we would cross landslides where rocks were falling and where trees were laying across the entire road. It was a bit scary but I think all four of us were in survival mode so we would pick up the suitcases, drudge across the mud and continue. We did that for 4.5 hours. In the meantime we saw numerous Bolivians walking up - saying it was worse down the mountain. (How did they know if they couldn't compare it with the top of the mountain?)

We arrived at what seemed to be the worst - where all of the trucks had been lined up with produce - John said he counted 82 trucks. Little highlander women were picking through kilos of tomatoes trying to pull out the few that weren't destroyed by the heat and rain. The people were tense - they had little to drink, had been trapped for days and were pondering all of the lost money that would come of such a situation. Later we saw on the news that 450 families were trapped. And then it began to rain.

A lady saw us - four gringos and a baby - and yelled at some young boys to help us get our suitcases and trek across the impassable road. This time it looked like a mountain had crumbled and turned into muck. Cranes were working, but couldn't progress fast enough as the rain kept coming. Fortunately we crossed with the help of more Bolivians.

The other side was just as chaotic - buses, taxis, trucks all waiting. A man from ATB TV Channel 5 asked me to interview about our trip. I told him I would interview only if he would let us ride in the back of his truck to the point at which we could get a taxi home.

Just as I finished interviewing an ambulance full of firemen pulled up and offered us a ride. We climbed in the ambulance and our luggage went in the back of the truck. They were only able to carry us a short distance, but enough time for me to feed Lilly.

From there it was a series of taking a taxi to a bridge, getting out, walking across and finding another taxi to do it all over again. This lasted several more hours. The bridges were less frightening the closer to Santa Cruz. Although we crossed one bridge that had pieces of asphalt falling into the river as we crossed it. It seems as if none of the bridges in Bolivia are built well.

We arrived home about 4pm after taking five taxis, an ambulance and a four-and-a-half hour walk. All to say, Praise the Lord! He made every part of the trip possible and passable. We made it home safely and only had mud on our suitcases and shoes to show for the experience. We are immeasurably grateful for God's provision as we came home.

Thanks John for the photos.