Oh Mercy! Mercy! Get My Jersey!

If I could, I would chisel into stone: “Never a dull moment.” And “The winds of misfortune will prevail without fail”! The weather report said rain. I said, “No way!” The annual rainfall in the Tankwa is 10 mm, so why get our knickers in a knot? I kept my eyes on the skies, and I was right, for once.

We packed our Honey Badger with a few pieces of clothing, including jerseys, beanies, gloves and scarves. One thing is for sure. It’s cold there. In the middle of nowhere, 120 km from Ceres on the gravel road. There, the sky is blue-blue, and the smallest plant celebrates each drop of water, rewarding us with sweet blooms. Past the Padstal, that famous landmark, the annual location of Africa Burn. We were there for the peace and to put our Honey Badger through her paces.

Shale, rocks, gravel and sand mark the barren landscape. Here and there, scrub is dotted with more rock and a few fygies and daisies in bloom. A film studio marks the landscape with its surreal structures and the abandoned artworks from this year’s Burn. You have to see the stark beauty for yourself. Magnificent.

The Tankwa Tented Camp would be our destination for the weekend. A good choice. Popular with motor bikers, city slickers in search of peace, gypsies, hippies, townies and lovers of the great outdoors. 

Only when you walk in the veld do you truly see and experience the Karoo's beauty. You have to put your nose to the ground. Once you’ve done that, a world of colour and life opens up. It is astonishing. What made the early pioneers decide to set up camp here, settle, raise their children and keep a flock of sheep? I don't know. It must’ve been the awesome sunsets. Couldn’t silence have been a prerequisite?

We did a lot of investigating. In the pub, we supported Paarl Boys’ High as they defeated Paarl Gymnasium; we chatted to other guests and found out that there is only a 1֩ separation between us. Jan-Paul can attest to that. I was surprised to see other Worcesterites and met a bonny baby boy; his beautiful Mum grew up alongside my own children, and the baby sister is now all grown up. Carla and Maree, it was delightful meeting up with you again; you’ve grown up, but I still see a girl in you. Sue's skill at Jenga was quite something, soon attracting quite a crowd!

We did have a drama, but I've been sworn to secrecy, and my lips are sealed. Not my story to tell, unfortunately, but we met four fabulous friends (kids) who have left an indelible mark on all our hearts. You flew in on a breeze; your smiles, good humour, adventurous spirit and youthful enthusiasm left us breathless. I know we can expect big things from you in the future. I will never look up at the skies without thinking of you.

You make Survivor look like child’s play. Hope to see you around, Katinka Oosthuizen, pilot extraordinaire Henk van der Spuy, Sasha Gouws and Braam. Braam, I'll do my best with the kid who's thinking of spending his GAP year being adventurous in Stillbay.

Percy and Sue made Percy's Perfect Pasta Pot - Lasagne in a pot. Delicious. Just know your pasta dishes, Bro. As we say in Afrikaans, "die Son skyn oorals". The Son/Sun newspaper headlines once again sent us reeling with their outrageously provocative headlines!

---oOo---

PART 2

The tribe spoke, and we decided we’d take a slow drive home shortly after brunch. We’d stop at the Padstal for a delicious Ginger Beer, say goodbye to Percy and Sue, and, who knows, we might see snow. We’d have plenty of time to settle before enjoying a film and ending the week with an early night.

Percy had hardly crested the koppie in a cloud of dust when our 'tyre Dogs' started beeping, signaling trouble that kept us on edge.

Bravely, Butch battled with the spare tyre from the back of the truck. The jack looked too small and flimsy for the job; the sand shifted; the shale cut into his back, and his knees had no cartilage. I took to the hills to see if I could find a signal. Nada.

My brother had disappeared into the dust, never to be seen again. I was of no help at all, hovering around sympathetically, handing over spanners and spanners. Butch kindly didn’t swat me or wave me away to get on with it. He kept a cool head. 

The gardening tools came in handy for Jaco and Erin when we needed to dig out a layer of gravel and stone. Just goes to show that, when you least expect it, gardening tools save the day! With all our might, we couldn’t lift the damaged tyre onto the back of the truck, so we unceremoniously rolled it into our living quarters. Up the steps we huffed and puffed, heaving and shoving it.

I am a firm believer that Karma is a bitch. While we were changing tyres, I spotted a cloud of dust drifting towards us at a very slow pace. We didn't want to get stuck behind it, so we pushed ahead as fast as we could, battening down the hatches and leaping into the cab.

Half an hour later, we were back on the road. Just as we noticed the truck train, two heavy vehicles were bearing down on us. We settled into a pleasant rhythm; I resumed my knitting, needles clicking, and our Audible book was back on track. And then BAM. Hardly two kilometres later, the steering wheel shuddered and shook; once again, we wobbled and groaned to a stop. Without the early warning beep of the tyre dog, we gaped at the damage. The new tyre was shredded to smithereens. This time we were stuck for the duration. The long train came trundling past, leaving us in the dust.

We had no mobile reception. We scribbled notes with telephone numbers as a plan. We flagged down 5 vehicles, handed over our distress notes, and sent them on their way, hoping they’d relay our messages once they had a signal.

The last vehicle to stop sped off in a cloud of dust at 17h00. We didn’t see another vehicle until 8h30 on Monday morning, when we heard a drone through the thick mist enveloping the landscape. That one got away. We estimated that if Mossie from Tyre King sent his recovery vehicle off at 8h00, we’d have a new tyre no earlier than 10h30. 

I couldn’t sit around and wait, so I took my camera and walked. While I was scouring the landscape for plants to photograph, I realised how fortunate we were. Here, safely in the middle of nowhere, we could experience a “breakdown”. We had the chance to test our survival skills, so to speak. We found we coped. Our truck is fitted out with everything we need. Butch and I set up our camping chairs, enjoyed a sundowner, and a few Karoo chats entertained us before they set off to nest for the night. We had food, water, and a comfortable bed with our own linen and my favourite pillow. We could brush our teeth and prepare for bed in luxury. We were off-grid yet still had all our creature comforts.

Dr. Burger Prinsloo hesitated, then greeted me as I emerged like an apparition, all arms a-flapping, from the thick mists at the Sutherland turn-off. Who’d expect to see a person there at 8h00 on a Monday morning, after all? On the route home, they promised to check in and monitor our rescue mission. They kept their word and gave the recovery driver our exact location. We were spot on; they arrived shortly after 10h30. 

With speed and efficiency, the two men got down to business. They set the jack, removed the shredded tyre, and within minutes had the new tyre on the rim. Without saying much, and with utmost patience and mutual respect, they set the tyre back on the truck and tightened the nuts to the requisite torque. They loaded the two defunct tyres and followed us to the tar road before waving us on as we parted ways, they to the N1 and us to Ceres. Now it was pedal to the metal all the way home.

We had a few appointments to keep, and the dirt road lay ribboned before us. An overturned truck brought us back to reality; accidents happen when you least expect them. We must be vigilant at all times.

This was a steep learning curve. We can’t travel without a sat phone. You need two spare tyres (we knew that), and a winch is essential. I may not wash my hands at the bathroom basin while Butch is lying under the vehicle. He doesn’t need a sudden gush of water all over himself.

Teething problems were expected, and with good grace we handled the electrical shortcomings; our appliances tripped continuously. Although we had ample hot water, we realised we’d have to use the geyser sparingly; it’s a guzzler. After much to-ing and fro-ing and head-scratching, we discovered our deep-cycle batteries were malfunctioning, causing an electrical failure. As the devil would have it, the guarantee had just run out, but the supplier has been sweet-talked and is willing to replace them free of charge. 

Yesterday, we fitted 6 new wider, bigger, better, sexier all-terrain Hankook tyres and custom-made rims. (And I hear now we have a NEW set of tyre monitors!) At last, we are properly shod and prepared for any African road. We thoroughly investigated the advice about a Sat phone, and we will have a rented phone delivered two days before departure. We are hooked up. On Tuesday, Hein at AC Motor Homes will set aside his deadlines to fit a motorised winch.

Our ordeal would not have been as painless without help from the following friends, acquaintances and strangers. We want to thank the following people for their advice, encouragement, help and support: Everard Smit – CONVEYCO, who broke down on his journey and turned around to help us repair our damaged tyre.

Dr & Mrs Burger Prinsloo, Anton Strydom, Mossie Mostert, Percy and Sue Knight, the recovery crew from King Tyres Worcester - you rock, fellas. AC Motorhomes (once again), Pro-Fitment Worcester. Without you, we’d always be in the dark. Thank you for negotiating new batteries for us. You certainly came to the rescue; we're confident the wheel has turned and our fortunes are looking up. Johan Lochner, who never says no, and the Schulz's, who made a U-turn, gave us advice on the Sat Phone and confirmed Butch's theory that tyres on a dirt road should be soft. 

Rest assured, we will confidently set off on our next adventure. Mossie said he received at least 8 phone calls on Sunday evening; that means everyone who stopped made a special effort to honour their promise to us. Thank you; you are the Samaritans who make us believe in the kindness of strangers.

I hope to be back in the Tankwa next year, all dolled up in my airy-fairy finery to glimpse and experience Karoo sunsets at the Africa Burn. Maree and Cecil, you'll soon embark on your adventure to New Zealand. Although I am very sad that another young couple is immigrating, I wish you well. With your big smiles and enthusiasm, you'll succeed in all your ventures. Be sure to keep in touch; we look forward to following your journey.