First Blood - Sand Track

By Mardi-Louise

After the rediculously easy riding on the gravel, John and I started feeling smug: we can do this - what's to worry!

We swaggered into Maun, well before the trucks, high on life on the long road and ready for some more action.

Once the group caught up - we set off to find a place to overnight. A gorgeous lodge a few kilometers out of town, presents itself: the prospect of a hot shower almost dizzying!

We pulled up, outside a six foot high wooden gate - and when it swings open to welcome us, I feel my heart sink: where the 'driveway' is supposed to be, is just a... OCEAN of thick, slippery sand.

Our first sand in Africa. In a bloody driveway, about a mile long!

Shit. Fancy coming all the way to Africa, and then coming unstuck in someone's driveway, forgodsake!

I steel myself and lead the way - remembering my mantra: when in doubt, open the throttle.

The bike bucked, slipped, skidded and bounced its way through the muck - and I held on for dear life. Praying fervently as I went, wondering briefly whether, if I keep opening the throttle, I'd eventually end up going 100mph across the sand!

From the corner of my eye, I saw John fall behind, and then couldn't see him in my mirror...

Damn!! The right thing to do, is to stop, and check on him.. but if I stop, I'll get stuck! I wrestled with my conscience for a minute, and finally pulled up.

My heart sank as deep as the front wheel into floppy sand. At the same moment, John careers past me without a sideways glance. Damn Yank!

I heaved and struggled to get the bike out of the heavy sand, and finally got going again. Doing a kind of ice skate dance, on a motorcycle.

Man... I could cry with relief, when I finally pulled up onto the hard stuff. I looked over at John, and he was grinning like an idiot: we made it. Again.

We are the gods of the road!

Celebrating around the fire that night, it suddenly hit me like a brick in the stomache: we have to do the same again tomorrow, in order to leave.

Arrrrrgggghhhh!!!

The only thing worse than being thrown into a scary experience - is doing it for the second time, knowing exactly what to expect!!

***

I'm delighted to report, I made it without coming off.

John, sadly, came off twice.

Impressive: 2 - 0 in my favour. I prayed fervently that it would stay that way!


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