The Honeybadger Goes Wild - Without Reservations

Christmas was spent at home with family, but to escape the crowds flocking to our very popular beach, we decided to go on a spontaneous road trip in the Honey Badger. I am still in training, so this was the perfect opportunity to take my driving skills up a notch or two as I negotiated bumpy, corrugated dirt roads.  We took the plunge and set off on a six-day journey up the south-east coast, staying in Kleinbaai with friends on our first evening and creating memories I hope inspire others to embrace unexpected adventures like Sam would have loved.

After that, we had no plans; we wild-camped wherever we could.  With no itinerary or schedule, we did it all without reservation, embracing the freedom of the open road.  The exciting thing was that we could always find a suitable spot to stop.  This proved our point that there's always a place at the Inn.

We used our iOverlander App to find wild campsites on a few occasions. This app lets overlanders geotag interesting campsites, mostly on the road less traveled.  Guests write the reviews, not the campsite owner, which makes the experience more genuine and relatable and fosters a sense of community and trust.

I dedicate this video to Samuel Myers, our dear friend, whose loss deeply affects us all.  I have known Sam and his family for most of my life in Worcester, and I want to honor his memory and the bond we shared, hoping it brings comfort and a sense of connection to everyone who knew him. 

From Sam's fabric and Elna shop, I bought all my fabrics, yards and yards of cotton knits to make my four children matching T-shirts, shorts and tracksuits until my Jaco said, "ENOUGH, Mom"!  Sam loved his braai; what's more, he was an accomplished cook too, and he made the most delectable, crispy gherkins; now I'll never know how he did it.  On occasion, Sam lent us cars without hesitation for visiting children to use.  With our test drives in the Honey Badger, he'd make sure our paperwork was in order and supplied our temporary license plates.  Sam was always keen to remind me how he'd waved to me as I passed him in the street.  Embarrassed,  I must confess I didn't always notice him.  Unless I know a registration number, a greeting from me will be a rare thing indeed.  Rest gently, dear Sam.

To Denise, Cindy, Lisa, Ralph, and Sam's grandchildren: Ha’makom yen hem etkhem betokh she’ar avelei Tziyonvi’Yerushalayim (May God console you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem). May this message remind us to cherish Sam's memory and honor his legacy in our lives.