When I was a freshman in college, I was treated to a South America tip with my Godfather, Blackie Williams. When in Peru, we had an extended driving trip and, while the highways we planned on using were "major" roads on the map, they were something else entirely in person. The principal one on which we drove was a former railway right-of-way, which had been cleverly converted to a road by dumping gravel on top of the roadbed, with planks of wood laid over the ties on bridges (except where the bridges were unsound, in which event you deviated around the bridge and forded the river or stream).
This was when we learned that the build quality for Toyotas built in Peru (and they were) did not quite measure up to the Japan standard. At one point I was driving along on an uncharacteristically straight stretch of "road," bumpier than heck, when the seatback just let go. Guess it's better in a car, than in a Cessna!
Gas was bought in a village (more like about five dirt huts on the side of a hill), carried in open cans and dumped in through a funnel.
It was an adventure, and I was too young to be worried, and I wish I could relive much of it. One of these days, I hope I can find my slides from that trip!