Frankly, It Scared the Crap Out of Me!

We set out on what we thought would be a normal day

   A Story:  We were heading back from the coast of Namibia to Windhoek to catch a flight later in the day.  After much deliberation and advice, we were going to drive taking an alternate route back on a "secondary road" that promised better views and more variety.

   The first trip over to the coast was, well ... not exactly thrilling, with a whole lot of nuthin' to look at.  I posted some thoughts on that earlier.

   So this time, we set out early to give ourselves plenty of time and even an extra hour or two to get to the airport to make the plane.

We were heading back to Cape Town on our way to Johannesburg, where we would eventually depart for Senegal, in West Africa.

We were advised that this was a "Dirt Road" (meaning gravel)

  However, we were told that our little rental car would be fine, and just be sure that when you hit the uphill part, to keep the pedal to the metal.  You see, when coming over to the coast, it's a gradual downhill, but this return road would be pretty flat with a steep climb "all at once" to make up the altitude gain. 

   We made good time in the beginning, and thought, "hey, this isn't so bad ..." but began to get into some rougher terrain.  We should have been more concerned when we saw very few vehicles, and the only ones we encountered were the four wheel drive off road 4x4 rigs. 

   Pressing on, we began to climb the mountains that appeared off in the distance.  As time went on, things became more challenging.  This was a super remote area, climbing rugged hills on loose gravel, and pretty soon, our life was at stake!

   The steep climbing part was extreme, and our wimpy sub compact car was no match for the serious incline going up.  The gradient was 20% or more, way beyond standard!  No guard rail.  
   We had a lot of trouble with the hills.   And we are hitting major rocks in the road, because the car sits low and there is no clearance.  I'm thinking "we're gonna damage this car" ...  loose gravel and bad conditions.

   When we reached the summit, it got real bad.  The car simply could not handle the steep climb on the loose gravel road.  It was like trying to drive up a real steep road - while driving on loose golf balls, with a bowling ball thrown in, we could get no grip on the road.  At one point, we were sliding sideways toward a deep precipice.  Frankly, it scared the crap out of me!  It was super dangerous.

   We couldn't get up this part of the mountain in our car.  It seemed insurmountable.  What the hell were we going to do?  Turn back?    Not an option, way too far, and keep in mind, we were trying to get to an airport far away to catch a flight.  Some of this went out the window when our survival was threatened!  First priority - stay alive.  

   So our only option was to reverse and back down the steep road, with serious cliffs, and try it again.  You gotta dig down deep and somehow meet life's roadblocks with courage and determination and ... blah blah blah. 

   With the hand of God it worked ... I had to gun the motor to the max and we slid our way up and somehow made it to the top of the summit.  The poor car engine was red-lining - I was sweating bullets.  Honestly, I was dang near terrified.

   And we weren't done yet, it went on like this for a hundred kilometers!  Are you kidding me?  I wouldn't recommend this road for anyone less than an expert driver with a seriously off road vehicle equipped with a strong motor and good tires.  We had none of that.   We're talking Evel Knievel here.  

   So it gets worse ... 

   We finally get out of this mess and we have spent WAY too much time, and we are in danger of missing our flight.  So we are pushing it big time once we hit the paved road and ... what's that noise?  Why are people looking at our car?

   Flat Tire!  Dang it, we are only 30 kilometers from the airport!  Hey man, this just isn't fair!  So I had to stop on this major highway and change the tire.  In fact I had to move the car because big busses and trucks are flying by about eight inches from my head.     

   By this time Fiona is coming to grips with the fact that we are going to miss the plane.  The poor rental car is beaten to a pulp.   
    ... ain't travel fun??!?!?!?

   So I get the tire fixed (did I mention I used to work in a tire shop?) with just a few modest disasters - the cheap jack collapsed, we had to find a flat rock, the manual doesn't help because they spell tire = tyre, sorry, too confusing.

   We make it to the airport with filthy clothes from rolling around under the rental car changing a "tyre" and the return guys look at us like, "What the ....?  Where have you been?  And what did you do to our car?" and we didn't get the tank filled because the gas station we were counting on was closed, it is Sunday and everything in the entire country is closed and "you know, I just don't care, I nearly died, and charge me whatever it costs to repair this under powered piece of crud and I'm trying to catch a flight" and they say "OKAY SIR, expect to hear from our claim department!"

   And to top it all off?   BWAHAHAHA - our plane is late.  They are doing technical repairs - yeah right - 

   I have plumbed the depth of my emotional strength and character and survived, barely.  

   I'm not anxious to do that again!