Think of the worst seat you have ever had. At the movies -- on an airplane -- any event. I am willing to bet that Charles outdid you! We all were packed like sardines into a beat up old bus that bumped and chugged over potholes the size of Volkswagons, crossed swollen rivers, spun through mudslides, knifed around hairpin turns, and literally crawled up steep mountains. None of us had a seat quite like Charles'.
Next to Charles sat a woman with two children. When you consider what those little ones endured, they were outstanding -- no crying, screaming, or kicking. Keep in mind, though, that little ones get sick and have to go to the bathroom. Our bus was stopping for neither.
Yes . . . poor Charles sat next to a woman who was either holding a child's head out the window so he could vomit or sticking his little fanny out the window so he could . . . well, you get the picture.
Of all the Roadmakers, I believe Charles made the greatest adjustments. The trip was foreign to anything he had ever done in his life. He has been on mission in Mexico and his job has required him to fly out of the country more than most. However, he had never been involved in any escapade as rough and tumble, treacherous, or rugged as this.
On our hardest day of hiking, Charles walked point for many miles. When we had the option to hitch a ride, he wanted to stay on foot and slowly drink in the adventure of the strange but beautiful countryside we were traversing.
Charles got sick, but pressed on. When others got ruffled, he stayed poised. Everyone of the Roadmakers recognized him as a quiet, competent, and steady comrade we each could depend on -- and we did!