The coastline
The broken fuel pump of a ‘well calculated’ petrol station along the coastline kind of spoils a whole riding day and I just manage to make it back to the nearest town, almost running the tank of the 640 completely dry. I had to leave Caro behind at the petrol station and although the somewhat creapy, single eyed local attendant seems a friendly bloke, Caro isn’t too confident seen her emotional relief as I finally come to ‘rescue’ her. It will only be the next morning we ride into the famous Skeleton Coast Park in Damaraland.
A close shave
This is the area of the desert elephants and many locals advise us to be very careful. Those animals have proven to be pretty aggressive at times and bright light nor loud noise is what they like most. We both have a bright headlight, I took the db killer out of my Akras and Caro’s sports exhaust isn’t too quiet either. Not really an advantage one could state… But off we go, scouring the horizon for elephant trunk…
Not that we are very successful at it, as the only elephants we got to see are those on the warning signs you see every all over the place. But we have a great time in this off road nirvana, albeit sometimes a bit on the challenging side for Caro. We truly enjoy the beauty of the overwhelming landscapes.
We have planned an overnight camping about half way the route through the Skeleton Coast Desert at a remote campsite. We saw temperatures around 35°C and because of the physical performance of a long days off road riding, we consumed quite a lot of our water supplies. As I enter the reception, well euh… reception… of the campsite, the first thing I do is asking for a nice and icecold coca cola. The friendly lady smiles but nods no. Bottled water then?… No?… Fridge?… No?… Water?… No? ‘Water yes but no good for drink’. Bummer! But luck is all ours as other visitors enter the campsite. Pascale, a Swiss traveling through Namibia with her kids in a 4×4, has a 60 liter water tank and we are able to fill our camelbaks. Together with the 3 liters of water we still have that should be sufficient for the 130 kms of desert ahead us. The idea of cold canned meatballs once more (we left the ‘bulky’ stove at home) is abandoned as we are invited for a delicious hot meal in Swiss company. The atmosphere is superb!
The next morning looks very promising. The sun in our eyes and a clear blue sky above the rough landscapes of the desert is stunning. At first everything goes pretty well and Caro is riding the most challenging of surfaces we met so far with ease. What an evolution! But after a while the piste turns into sandy ruts and that is not really Caro’s cup of tea. If you ride it standing up, it isn’t too difficult if you’re a bit used to it. But Caro is getting more and more exhausted and her paddling style of sand riding is not really contributing to an improvement of the situation. It just eats away her last bit of energy. It doesn’t take long before she drops the bike. Picking it up and back on the pegs is the only option but after a while she drops it again and again. She hurts herself, the panniers took quite a beating already and her mirror died. But there is no other option than to continue. We simply don’t have enough water and food supplies to stay here.
It’s about 6 o’clock when we try it once more but again Caro drops the bike in the sand again and again. She can’t go any further anymore and we start to realise that we will need to spend the night here. My mouth tasts like cardboard and I have a mere 300 cc of water left. I have to admit for the first time in my travel history this situation worries me a lot. The juice of a can of green beans is all we drink but the taste is disgusting. Now what did they do in comic books when they were lost in the desert without any water… mmmmhhh… Right! Looking out for cactusses. They are full of water! And boy oh boy what a coincidence. There is a huge one on the top of a hill. Eureka! I work my way up on the hill and cut through a big fat cactus with my pocket knife. But what a disappointment when I notice there is indeed some juice in the cactus, but even before drops hit the ground, they turn into a thick rubber like substance. I try licking the inside of the cactus but the taste is awful and it gives me an unbearable burning feeling in the back of my throat. Bean juice it will be….
We spend the night in the tent but this time I am not feeling too comfortable about the situation. And I have this annoying irritation in my eye, or is it burning? Yes, damned, this is definitely what one could call a terrible burning feeling. Fuck! It feels like my eyeball is going to pop out. It must have been that cursed cactus juice that was still on my fingers when I wiped my eyes. I start to panic because the pain is getting unbearable, and I am the only one that could get us out of the desert. This time Caro is the one to put me at ease, or at least she brilliantly pretends. For hours and hours we wash my eye with eye drops we have in our medical kit and after a sleepless night, the pain finally fades away. But at the same time I nip my camelback quite often that night. Those goddamned water supplies. After another unsuccessful attempt to ride the bike, we finally decide I will leave Caro behind and I will ride out of the desert for help on her lighter bike, without luggage. This is the only option. She is a total wreck and she’s feeling sick. And I am not feeling too well anymore either I must admit. My mission is clear: getting out of the desert ASAP on the lighter 640! Caro is obviously worried when she sits down in the shade of a big rock, waiting for me to return. The throttle goes wide open and the terrain is pretty rough. It’s getting pretty crazy and a lot of obstacles make me lift the front wheel instead of hitting the brakes. I have to win some time and I hope this keeps on going fine. I am only half way as my camelback is sucked completely dry. Not much time left now. The rear wheel is spinning like mad and drift- and wheelystyle I finally make it to the major road after. I have to recover a bit because now. I am pretty much at the limit of my energy levels as well. But as I put the bike on the kickstand to sit down for a moment, everything turns black and I go completely knock out. I wake up and stand up again, but the exhaustion has made me so sick. It’s only after a couple of kms riding that I make it to a farm, ready to faint again. It’s very strange but I cannot resist my emotions and I start crying. There’s tears and snot everywhere in my helmet. I totally collapse and I am hanging over the handlebars, crying like a baby. The farmers immediately notice this is serious. They drag me from the bike, remove my helmet and give me water and sugar. I don’t care about the dirty black particles in the little plastic container and I swig it down and ask for more. Dirty or not, we’re saved!
More than 4 hours later I am back at the place where I left Caro, in a 4×4 vehicle. She doesn’t have the strength anymore to stand up. She vomited the beans and the color of her face goes well with my white bike. Water and sugar can only partly change that and I feel so sorry for her. I realize this is my fault: I took myself and my skills as a reference and didn’t sufficiently take her limited experience into account that requires a lot more effort to ride such a piste. I have made a big mistake this time… But we got through and that, for now, is the most important thing. What a relief!
It is strange how quickly I recover thanks to the water and the sugar. It only took me a mere 50 minutes till the major road on my 990 this time. Stress made place for a major dose of adrenaline en euphoria! What a kick! The water goes through pretty quickly but no worries this time! There is plentiful!
Dirty petrol
Then it goes further north, to Opuwo, and from there I want to ride the Van Zyl’s pass, the steepest and most difficult one of Namibia. It is clear now that Caro will not ride the pass on the bike, but that means I have to look out for company. Riding it just on my own is just too much of a risk. The chance of a major crash is simply too high and help will be very far away in that case. Descents and track surface are of the more challenging type. We still have some slack in the planning to look for other daredevils, if it weren’t for the lousy petrol quality in Namibia that spoils the fun. The dirt of many thousands of kilometers has completely saturated the fuel filter and instead of looking for other off roaders, we spend two days of getting tanks off and pump out and looking for a solution. Carb cleaner finally helps us out and cleans the filter, but it took us quite some effort to find that stuff in this remote town. Two days have passed now and we haven’t seen a single tourist around that even comes close to being a candidate for the Van Zyl’s pass. It’s getting pretty tight now, timing wise, and it’s a true setback, but I realise that holding on to the plan of riding the pass will jeopardise the rest of the trip. I don’t feel like riding down to Cape Town in a hurry. Hence the decision of skipping the pass and trying to enjoy the rest of the trip as much as possible. I feel relieved after I finally took the decision and it’s a big burden off my sholders, but at the same time I am conviced I will be back some time to ride the pass. A trip to Angola in a couple of years seems appealing and the TO DO yet contains one challenge more now…
We opt for an alternative route heading for the Kunene River and we pass by numerous Himba settlements. The red colored topless women are typical for the North of Namibia and the their primitive way of living is in fierce contrast with the world we are used to at home. No cellphones here as you often see with other Namibian tribes, but true authenticity!
