A HEATED DEBATE ABOUT VAN ZYL

Ross and I set of at a civilised hour, with little incident throughout the day.  Straight roads and summer style heat accompanied us on the road north.

I was just beginning to get sleepy and about to suggest a stop, when the darned black box complained about a lack of water again.  I wasn’t too concerned until we opened the bonnet and saw the rubber diesel return pipes completely melted.  After topping up with water and bleeding the system again, we inched towards Kamanjab, a town that according to my GPS promised the services of a mechanic.

We found only the mechanics assistant and the assistant’s assistant.  Something like a wheel tappers mate, I thought.  They were both adamant that the gasket was gone again and they could only order the parts five days time at best.  Or we could just get a tow truck to take the car back.

After telephonic consultations with my Eendekuil mechanic and Ross’ Windhoek mechanic we decided that to test Kamanjab’s theory by driving up the hill out of town.  If the gasket was once again damaged, I should not be able to get up to 100km/h.

She passed the test with flying colors and we turned to head north again towards Opuwo, with regular checks under to hood.

I stopped after 15min to see the water pouring out of the water reservoir once again, but this time it occurred to me that the reservoir capped may have been damaged and that I had a spare.

We swapped out the cap and lone behold - no more problems.  But now it was getting dark and we had plenty cattle on the roads to contend with.  So we slowed once again to 70km/h to ensure we could at least blink before hitting something.

Of course while Ross and I endured these trials in blistering heat, unbeknownst to us, the rest of the crew were cavorting in hotel swilling pools, enjoying the local brews, and chatting up foreign tourist talent.  No respect!

30km from Opuwo, we heard the welcome voices of Arthur and Andrew trying to raise us on the radios.  Following Andrew’s directions was a touch challenging for Ross, due to their lack of brevity (probably because it was late and drinking started early), but we arrived to a fabulous welcome by everyone with meat already maturing on the fire.

After the Khowareb Schlucht

We sat down to a welcome meal and drinks and listened to their excursions in the Khowareb Schlucht.  It sounded fabulous and seriously dusty and left me itching to get going.

But after dinner a touchy debate ensued about the various route options and the time and risks involved.  At one stage it appeared that it made no sense to push on with two uncertain vehicles as the risk was too great.  Ross in particular wanted to stick his toe into the Kunene and tick of the legendary Van Zyl’s pass of his list.  Others believed there was insufficient time left and too risky to attempt it.  I even considered heading back home again to allow everyone to push ahead on the route they wanted without the concern of a breakdown.

We decided to sleep on it, and decide in the morning.