“I want to go exploring,” I said to my friend Dave. “I want to hike up that jungle trail out by your corn field.”
I was spending the weekend at Dave’s ranch right outside of Belmopan.
“Be my guest,” he said. “I’m going to sit here on the porch and drink beer. Stay on the trail and you’ll be alright. If you get lost remember that all of the trails take you to the Belmopan road.”
Within a couple of hours I was hopelessly lost but sure enough, the trail took me to the road. I waited for nearly an hour in the hot sun before I realized that no cars were coming. I decided to start walking if I was going to get anywhere. After a half hour of walking I saw a cloud of dust in the distance. As it came closer I could see that it was an ancient pickup truck. When it stopped I could see that the driver was a little old man with five dogs on the seat next to him.
“Is it a long way to Belmopan?” I asked him.
“Not too long,” he said.
“Can I get a ride with you?”
“Sure. I got to keep the dogs up here, though, so they don’t jump out.”
I jumped in back and we took off at a steady pace. An hour later we were still moving along the same jungle road without having seen another vehicle or a house. I knocked on the glass of the truck cab and the old man pulled over to the side of the road.
Again I asked him, “Is it a long way to Belmopan?”
“It is now,” he said.
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