Trip to Damaraland part 2

We left Ghaus village after inspecting the borehole which seemed to be working well and headed back across country following the line of a mountain range about 3 miles to our left.  We were heading for an area called Brandberg in which most of the boreholes were situated.  Beyond the cross country tracks, the roads run out and instead you drive along dry riverbeds full of soft sand which makes for very slow progress.  It very much feels like you are driving on ice or snow without the proper tyres and running in second gear makes the engine scream so our chances of seeing wildlife were getting remoter by the minute.  You try and drive in the tracks of the person before you but every now and then you break out and the car slews and bounces around until you manage to make your way back.  The riverbed is not very deep, maybe only two feet or so at the sides and only fills in the rainy season but it's still possible to get flash floods from rain upstream and at first I'm a little nervous.  There is no other way to get where we are going  though so I put this thought out of my mind and concentrate instead on scanning the vegetation for signs of animal or bird life.  We'd driven about 30km and were starting to think about stopping to pitch camp for the night.  It gets dark at about 6pm and the last thing we wanted was to get stuck in mud or wet sand just as the light was fading.  We could feel the sand getting heavier as we drove further and Gerdt decided it was too dangerous to continue.  Spinning round we indicated to the other car to do the same.  The Landrover is a much heavier car though and had a heavier payload and as it turned around and headed back in the opposite direction it's rear wheels sank slowly into the ground up to its axel.  We got out to take a look at it.  The car sat in the riverbed at about 30 degrees and the rear wheels had disappeared almost entirely.  Various methods were deployed in an effort to extract it but nothing was working.  Time was drawing on and we couldn't afford to be there much longer so we resorted to what any old hand might do in this situation - we started to dig.  And dig we did, the kids included.  We dug on our knees and on our bellies until we were hotand sweaty and grimey and then when we had dug enough we filled the space we'd made with wood.  With a guy rope attached to the Toyota and on our third attempt, the Landrover pulled free to some not inconsiderable relief (especially from me. I'd not packed enough clean knickers to be stranded, so my effort in the digging was considerable).

Having pitched camp that night and having eaten a largely carnivarous meal cooked over the fire (they are big on meat out here) I sat back in my chair and looked up at the stars.  Where are we exactly, I asked.  We're in the middle of nowhere I was told.  No one would find us without a GPS reading.  I looked up again at the stars - at the Southern Cross and Orion - and thought about that.  The night was dark and the stars were clear in their millions and I saw a satellite slowly drift past.  In Namibia, in the middle of nowhere, full of good food and sleeping under the stars.  It felt good.  

Comments

[Helen]

What a lovely descriptive account of your journey. I completely felt with you on the 4 wheel drive, having experienced eactly the same in Oz. I've been stuck too and dug, then to find something to put under the wheels for grip and a winch to move out. Phew, what a day, but to finish with the stars, well that's just perfect. Good on you, mate!