driving in mexico -- phantom signs

This is one of those ongoing topics that is a cornucopia for writers.

Some people will tell you driving in Mexico is dangerous. Not because of the fabled bandits of days yore, but because of the rather chaotic flow of traffic. Particularly, in the small villages around Navidad Bay.

"Dangerous" is the wrong word. At least, from my perspective. And, even though I just used the adjective "chaotic," not even that captures the spirit of driving in the Pacific villages where I hang out.

But this is not a paean to the thrill of driving here. Unusually, for me, this is a public service announcement based on my recent driving experiences. It will come close to be a long-winded version of the two words that most make me cringe -- "be safe."

Let me provide you with a little traffic context. Highway 200 is the major north-south highway along this part of the Mexican coast. Barra de Navidad, my home village, squats on the beach almost two miles from Highway 200, but there is a connecting road.

Because the intersection also houses a major bus stop, a wily traffic engineer came up with a solution. Use a "Y" to merge the traffic. Drivers headed to Puerto Vallarta and Guadalajara are shunted to the west, and those on their way to Manzanillo and Cihuatlan are funneled to the east. It is an elegant solution.

But it creates a separate problem. At the crotch of the "Y," four lanes converge and cross one another. The solution was the installation of a stop sign for traffic entering the intersection from the east, leaving the other three lanes free flow and the right-of-way.

In practice, the sign worked well, unlike other stop signs and signals that are often treated by some as being nothing more than a yield sign -- or, worse, the specter of Claude Rains.

Well, the stop sign at the "Y" intersection works when it is there. And it is not there now. I do not know when it disappeared during the last two months.

Several of its predecessors had succumbed to alcohol users. But those signs were replaced in days. Not this time.

I first noticed it was missing when returning from one of my recent trips north. My taxi was following a late-model Suburban with Guanajuato plates. The driver simply barreled through the intersection causing two motorcyclists to swerve to avoid being run down by her.

My memory is obviously not what it once was because about two days after that near-accident, I was driving north and was just beginning my turn to head off to the west. A snazzy black sedan came right through the intersection flashing its LED-rimmed lights and using all the Spanish swear words I know. At least, we did not collide.

I do not blame the tourists. With the now-denuded corner, it is almost impossible to figure out who has the right-of-way. Fortunately, people who live here, whether out of memory, custom, or caution, still come to a full stop at the intersection -- assuming no one is coming from the other directions. Otherwise, the intersection would become a finalist in The Places Where You Most Likely Will Die contest.

So, this is my heads-up to those of you who may be driving here in the near future. As long as the sign stays missing, caution is advised. And, yes, I know I am getting awfully close to saying it.

All right. I give up. Be safe.