Jungle Mechanic by Air (summer 1974)

First, a little streching; then, check the plane & take-off into the Sunrise ...

The view of the volcano with smoke twisting up, and lava crawling slowly towards the jungle below, took my breath away. The Cessna 180 pilot turned her around again, giving me a compleat view of the live volcano, of the river bed cannion snaking through the Sierra Madre mountains, and of a few huts on that small prairie with cows: our destination.

The pilot reved up the Continental a few times, until a small boy came out of one hut and scared away most of the cows. Then we went straight South, passing a white church in a village at the left mountain top, brightly lighted by the inminant sunset. Then the Cessna started diving into the cannion like an enemy plane was on our tail. She leveled off at watter level, river rubing her main gear and wing tips brushing jungle trees: everything passing slowly so fast, like the eternal blink of an eye.

Suddenly, the small prairie was in front of us, cows on the side and bannana trees at the end (thank God, no hard trees) From the hut smoke, I noticed we were coming in with a tail wind. The prairie started disapearing faster and faster, engine reving up, the bannanas ready to smash the windshield, my white knukles grabing the seat. With a last rev-up ,the tail turned and I heard a last chug-chug-flap! from the engine as we parked in silence. I had to applaud!

A laboratory company contracted me to fix a 1927 Slavia stationary engine. It propelled a "Beneficio de Barbasco" (barbasco processing plant) that fed all "Familias" in that Zoque community.

The place were we landed that day was called "Francisco León", located under "el Chichón" volcano.

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hacienda Armonía, today:

Francisco León now lies under tons of lava: the river changed its course after the 1982 eruption, lasting for several weeks after turning 2,000 people into ashes, instantly.

  

Jean loup chronicles