Monterrey vs. Hurricane Alex

"Rio Seco has water in it?? LET'S GO RAFTING!!!"

Such was my first reaction when I heard that the riverbed that cuts through the entire city of Monterrey, dry for 22 years, was pumping full blast. You see, Monterrey is encircled on three sides by mountains, and when Hurricane Alex dropped a year's worth of rain in three days (27 inches), the mountains funneled it all right down into the heart of Monterrey. Here it is coming from the mountains (I've driven up this canyon before, it's like Parley's Way):

If you didn't just say, "Woah", smack yourself and take another look. Woah. This is heading straight for the city. And this is just one canyon.

Justin Wright, my companiero in the house, woke me up at about 7:00 AM to tell me there was no power, no phones, and he had a flight leaving at 9:15 clear on the other side of town and his taxi wasn't gonna make it. So into the Honda Civic we went to brave the storm.

The main freeway had already been eaten away by the river, but we miraculously made it to the airport in time, though this required a fair amount of off-roading through debris and potholes. We crossed the river on a high bridge on the way to the airport, but didn't get a good look at it. At the airport, Justin thanked me and wished me luck getting back. I figured it wouldn't be too hard... just go the same way we came, right? But roads that were fine one hour ago were now strewn with rocks, mud, and rivers, and masses of cars were squeezing through detours like a flock of panicked sheep. I watched a couple of jeeps right in front of me make a run for it across a slow mudslide and just sunk in up to the doors.

Eventually I reached the river. WOOOOAAAAAAAAH. This was the bridge I was supposed to cross:

View from a helicopter:


I stood there with my jaw dropped for a good 30 minutes before asking around about what bridges were still good. I was told that just another 15 minutes up the river there was another bridge. When I got there, it was only half a bridge. I began to feel as Littlefoot once did after the Great Earthshake, standing across a great divide with no way across. I wandered away discouraged and frightened. I was never going to get home! But then, all of a sudden, I looked up and saw a cloud morph into the shape of my mother, who spoke to me in a booming echoey voice and told me never to give up until I got home. (end side plot)

Ok, actually, I was loving the excitement. I stood in a 20 minute line at a gas station to grab some crackers and V8 for breakfast and kept driving up the river until I found a bridge to cross. There was plenty of sightseeing on the way:



Wish I had footage of the really big water I saw. There were enormous wave trains that morphed and moved around the river. I saw a hole that looked just like Little Niagra in high water. And check out the size of the standing wave at 0:23 of this video!

Eventually, I did find a large, stable bridge to cross, and arrived at home in the afternoon without a scratch to me or the car. ("James" does mean "protected", you know). Miraculously, less than 10 people died in this city of 6 million, though hundreds of thousands of people are still without running water and electricity. This incredible two minute video of the city is a must see:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ni8jKUMJ6vg&playnext_from=TL&videos=jgSOhnokDQk&feature=rec-LGOUT-exp_fresh%2Bdiv-1r-4-HM

Some things inspire me with grand language and epic descriptions, but all I can say after seeing this in downtown Monterrey is "wooaaah." What say ye?