Road warrior: Surviving Mexico's highways and byways

I never wanted to be a road warrior in Mexico. For the first 10 years of my adult life, traveling south of the border meant taking a train to Palenque, putting my name in the lottery for a seat on the ferry across the Sea of Cortez, playing gin rummy at the station until the next bus departed , or placing my fate in the hands of a generous Bimbo bread truck driver headed in a promising direction.

Writing about Mexico for a living has meant trading bus stop rummy and free lifts for itineraries, advance reservations and rental cars. In the past two years alone, I've put roughly 4,000 miles on a succession of cars quixotically named Chevy Joy, Dodge Attitude and Volkswagen Derby, sturdy as burros and just as resistant to being steered. These many miles have taught me that you can be ever so savvy about topes (speed bumps on steroids) and animals grazing on the roads, but you'll still arrive at your destination a wreck if you don't have at least a glimmer of insight into how Mexicans think. Some insights:

That's just the way it is. This is a stoic population that has endured a brutal conquest, devastating natural disasters, poverty, centuries of political chicanery and the contemporary scourge of drug wars — and emerged with spirit intact. So when a cattle drive takes 20 minutes to cross the road, or a massive delivery truck has to inch back and forth 25 times to angle itself into a driveway the width of your hall closet, Mexican drivers tend to turn up the music, get out of their cars and shake hands, and consider it an enforced break from drudgery. Look at it the same way and save yourself an aneurism.

Children are our future. Drive anywhere near a school, a park or a playground, and you will encounter topes. These might be a concrete island across the road, or they might be a row of metal half spheres that will eat your undercarriage for breakfast if they don't flip your car over. Topes are also a given at any village on any country road, and at random intervals just about anywhere — including 50 yards after you pass a 100 km per hour speed limit sign. You'll often see a warning sign, but sometimes the bumps appear out of nowhere (and at other times the sign appears but the topes do not). You are going to slow down, either to ease over the topes or to ask around for a repair shop. There's no fighting it, so consider it your contribution to the welfare of the country's children.

It's different down here. Your driver's license is good in Mexico, but your assumptions are not. Get familiar with Mexico's rules and customs:

• U.S. liability insurance is no good in Mexico, and Mexican insurance is mandatory. Guilty until proven innocent is the law, and if you have an accident, you can be jailed until you pay everything you owe. And just so you know, if someone hits you from behind, it's your fault.
• Turning right on a red light is still illegal, though you will see every taxi doing it.
• In cities, many main streets have laterals, or separate lanes running on either side of the main roadway. You must take the mini off-ramps onto the laterals in order to make turns.
• Going with the flow of traffic is no defense for speeding, so don't be tempted to follow the lead of Mexican drivers rocketing past you.
• In the absence of a designated left-turn lane, don't make a turn from the left lane — pull to the right, wait until the road is clear, then cross it straight on.
• If the truck in front of you on an open highway flashes his left blinker, he's probably telling you it's safe for you to pass. These courtesy signals generally are trustworthy, but use common sense: If you see a side road coming up, the truck just might be turning left (in which case passing would be a disaster).
• Flashing headlights behind you means the car wants to pass. If an oncoming car flashes its lights at you, be prepared for some road trouble ahead.
• For a translation of Mexican road signs, click here.

The Wild West is not dead. It's less common these days, but some policemen still impose their own brand of lone justice. You didn't know you were on a one-way street? So sorry, but that will be a (fill in the number)-peso ticket. For your convenience, the cop will offer to spare you the trial of finding your way to the station in an obscure part of the next city to pay your fine and get your driver's license back. He can take your money right on the spot! I've had just two run-ins in 20 years of driving in Mexico, and going along is the only tactic I've used. Take your pick from these others:

• Bargain. You'll rarely escape paying the mordida (bribe), because you handed over your driver's license before you realized what was going on. But you can negotiate the price down. Try pleading that you have only 100 pesos on you, and your plane is leaving in one hour.
• Play dumb. Numerous tourists have told me they evaded the bite by pretending not to speak Spanish, shrugging a lot and generally looking confused until the policeman shakes his head and walks away. Note that the only permissible words of Spanish in this case are "No entiendo."
• Act smart. This kind of extortion is illegal under Mexican law. Demand an ID, write down his name, patrol car number and license plate, and time and location of the incident. Insist that he write up the ticket. This should scare off a rogue cop (or a poser). At the very least, it should reduce the "fine" substantially. If you want to stand your ground, don't pay but instead call the nearest U.S. Consulate or Consular Agency immediately and report the incident.

You don't pay for a freeway. It's the U.S. road system that has it backward. In Mexico, highways (cuotas or autopistas) are fast, divided toll roads, often better than a U.S. freeway. If a local directs you to the "freeway" (libre), which costs nothing, you'll drive narrow two-lane roads that wind through the countryside, with the attendant pushcarts, donkeys and chickens in the road.

• The toll roads are expensive, but if you have to get somewhere in a hurry, they are worth it. If you have time to explore Mexican village life, save the money and take the freeway.
• The toll roads are the only ones you should venture onto at night if you value your sanity.
• A caveat: Be sure you know where the exits are before you set out on a toll road. Once you get on, you can't get off until the next exit, which may be 100 km away.

God will protect us. The preponderance of crucifixes and medallions hanging in Mexican windshields supports my suspicion that these devout Catholics put undue faith in God to see them safely through driving at the speed of light, occupying random lanes, passing on curves and driving at night without lights.

Christine Delsol is a former Chronicle travel editor and author of "Pauline Frommer's Cancún & the Yucatán."