The Home straight

With just 100km to go the excitement started setting in, imagine for a moment that we had now traveled 2600odd kilometers and with only 100 to go it was almost within pushing distance, not quite but the imagination and nerves were running wild, even towing each other was now an option to finish this epic adventure. After about 30km these feelings wore off quite drastically.

The next feeling was one of a chapter coming to an end, that feeling you get when you finish a good book(I assume) or the world cup ends, as if nothing could ever live up to it again and how could life be the same after experiencing something this good.

Anyway one thing that will happen to you many times on a scooter is that the feelings come and go because before you reach the destination a lot of time tends to pass and with that a lot of thought and so the next feeling was one slightly more basic, we became quite hungry.. Now with the trip almost at an end and a whole side-bag still filled with 2-minute noodles and pasta sauces we decided that we would try out some of our survival equipment, the gas stove(a heating and cooking device).

We set up the whole Jamie Oliver affair right next to the road with every sauce we could find being debated about whether they would compliment each other and the neutral noodles, at this point we rated ourselves as cousine experts and no-one would convince us otherwise. Soon the two combinations of "Toit's cheese and corn" and "the Boere beefy tomato" sauces were decided on, mostly because cheese and corn were of the same colour and beef and tomato often go together on burgers.  Not long after we hit a snag because the one box of matches we owned we had graciously given away at a braai, luckily for us Flip had brought his, self proclaimed, 'wildest knife in the world' along so he whipped out the flint and soon we had the stove going at full tilt making noodles which could provide for half of Southern Africa. We soon scooped away our stack of noodles sharing a spoon(we had done some weight shedding in windhoek and left the cutlery behind in our excitement) and soon we were on the home straight, tummys bulging like 40year old elvis impersonators.

As the end was neigh we started high fiving each other while riding, dancing on the bikes and as we crested a tiny hill before us we saw the gates that we had been longing to see for two and a half weeks, the challenge had been completed, for two years we had dreamed of that moment, to finally reach the endpoint of an absolutely amazing adventure, to prove so many wrong, to prove so many right and to just do something very few people have attempted.

Moments later we stopped at the gate, looked at each other, looked at the gate and instead of jumping from joy we were sort of "what now?".. Having said that neither could get the smile off their faces and even now thinking back and writing this the smile returns. Grinning we asked the security of Etosha whether we could just make a quick spin inside the gate but a firm no quickly ended that conversation.

Never the less We had done it!!!
(We just need to get back home)

The Outjo recap

So we left Windhoek where we stayed 4 nights instead of one, max two, nights but we're flexible like that. Provided the company is good (and kind enough to house us that long) and in Windhoek's case the liqueur is expensive enough, they made a big tick there, fortunately for them they have the specimens there to get young boys fresh out of the Kalahari’s blood running and to have them totally forget about budget and all those poor man’s problems. I mean we were in a town where if you don’t drive a cruiser you’re about as cool as a grade 5 chess athlete.

We’re facing the last leg of our trip, Outjo to Etosha. My bike is constantly packing up with a blocked airfilter, its odometer has blown its last breath as well as my own and Du Toit's speedometers. My front brake has a rattle on it which I'm too lazy to fix, and Toit's numberplate is held by wire alone.  The duct tape responsible for holding his bike together is failing its task, I'm starting my bike with a screw driver -the key is broken off in the ignition... add to that the fact that he have no headlights, and you will notice we're having lots of fun. The spaces between towns seems to have shrunk because there is no way of measuring how fast we are driving..

Another spec Du Toit has added to his scooter is that it is now without its exhaust, its taken on the sound of a 1200 offroad bike and my scooter is rattling to a sound that resembles the kaapse klopse on a sunny second newyears morning. We are quite the fixture on most towns, in windhoek some of the people just unceremonially packed up laughing. We are thinking that etosha would do well to meet us halfway...

so off we go, never mind bon vouyage... just get there! (just 100km to go!)

We weren't at the beach but there was definitely sand

After two nights at Aranos and a brilliantly easy day of hunting which we observed on 'Bosduin farm' it was time to carry on to Gobabis to meet another friend of Flip.

The road to Gobabis wasn't uneventful and after slowing down countless times for patches of sand we made it in the late afternoon, this time I supervised the phonecall and directions. Gobabis now felt to us like a buzzing city compared to the one-road-towns we had gotten use to, the amount of people around you even at a distance was overwhelming and no fun at all, we are definitely desert people.

The directions to the farm were easy enough, 10km then turn left 20km and you,re at the farm. Easy game.

If we were taught anything this trip it is to never assume. The first part was the deepest corrugation we had come across, it felt like every time you crossed which felt like a speed bump your front tyre was swallowed by a monster of the deep and you then had to ride it out with the throttle only to be repeated 20cm further. After what seemed like ages we saw the sign D1017 and relief set in, as we approached the turnoff that relief started to slip away in a red disbelief. It was a bed of Kalahari sand, ever the optimist we decided we were going to be we speculated that it would only be the first couple meters. That soon changed when we rounded the first bend(after both almost falling a handfull of times and having to walk the scoots close on half of the first stretch) as far as we could see it was stretches and stretches of beautiful sand, funny how every time we were in trouble just the most beautiful of scenes arose around us.

After 20mins we had done one kilometer and after a quick calculation we realized it would take us roughly forever. We soldiered on but every time you're tiny front wheel touched the sides of the deep tracks it would suddenly get a mind of its own, best thing to do is just to hand over control and follow you're recently employed boss the scooter.

Not even halfway Flip's scooter again started choking and we had to open her up for the umpteenth time, frustrating was not the word and if it was a reality show the the rating would have gone up a couple of ages at this stage.  By the time we got it fixed the the sun was setting and we were extremely relieved to see our help arriving in the shape of a Hilux. Pieter told us to meet him at the next bend which seemed easy enough, only thing was the next bend was 2km from us. With the sun having gone firmly behind the horizon the fun started(I was without my headlight ofcourse) . For the first bit I tried to make out the track but soon realised it was no use, I was like a blind person riding a bike in sand, the only thing I could do was react to it. After NEARLY going on my side a couple times we made it and I had the giggles from relief. This was by far the most challenging bit of riding of my life.

The ride was again rewarded with amazing Namibian hospitality which made for a wonderful couple of beers and dinner