There are, at most, four nights left on this amazing Coast2Coast4CANSA expedition which I feel so lucky to have been a part of. Since some of the guys have urgent appointments and commitments to attend to in the next few days back home, I feel a bit guilty for hoping that a manic weather system delays our impending return to normal everyday life. The guilt doesn’t last long though, as I manage to console myself with the fact that it is only natural to want to prolong any awesome road trip, let alone one that has taken me from South Africa’s Eastern to (almost) Western borders.
Apart from the genuine belief that we have made a difference with both our fundraising and cancer awareness mission objectives, I will also be heading back to the KZN South Coast with memories of a trip that I will never forget. I’m sure that the Lambert’s Bay Harbor Master won’t forget us for a while either, unfortunately for him it was at his harbor where today (11 May) I managed to get my hands on one of the jet skis for the first time in weeks. After tearing up the ‘No Wake Zone’ for a few minutes, I eventually realized that his frantic arm waving and shouting was actually directed at me. The only idiot riding around the harbor at 40 kmph in the freezing wind and rain.
For those of you who recall the “Fuel Wars” episode between Jason Ribbink and Barry Lewinsky, the argument was once and for all sealed a few days back when the guys were arriving in Lamberts Bay. Barry was the only rider to make it to the harbor unassisted. The rest of the crew, including Jay, ran out of fuel literally just outside the harbor entrance. Unfortunately for Trigger Ribbink, his tank ran dry whilst he was attempting to lead the guys into harbor via the Tiger Line directly through some massive 10 foot breakers. What made it worse was that no one followed the poor bloke, leaving him stranded in the impact zone bobbing around on a giant cork. He managed to save himself and the ski, although it did take at least an hour (and a double dose of ‘mikkies’) for him to stop dribbling on himself and snap out his emotional trauma-related catatonia.
Barry may have won “Fuel Wars”, but Jay was doing his best to get some revenge. On the 65 km drive from the beaching site at Brand se Baai back to our accommodation at Lutzville this evening, a presenter from a well known radio station called to conduct a pre-recorded telephonic interview which had been arranged earlier that day. Russel and Mark, my usual go-to-guys for interviews, were both in the other vehicle, so I passed my phone to Jay. He took the handset, and started with “Hi, my name is Barry Lewin and I have something very important to tell you…”. Fortunately for Barry, Jay was on a bit of a comedown from his daily ‘mikkies’ and Red Bull binge, so snatching the phone from the sluggish Ribbink and doing the interview himself was not much of a problem.
No road trip would be complete without getting lost at least once. And these days it appears that no GPS comes complete with detailed maps of West Coast dirt roads. I spent at least 3 hours today speeding around gravel roads in and around Brand se Baai and Lutzville without a clue where I was going. I was trying to locate, and this is no joke, a stick stuck in the ground with a beer bottle on the top, which Lance had used to show me which sandy track to take down to the correct beach. The first time I drove straight past it, he and Bennie could see me from the beach, no doubt muttering between them about the “nut head from Natal”. Truth be told, I did not see the bottle-stick road marker, but I wasn’t really looking for it. Instead, I was just sussing out the gloriously rugged and wild West Coast, as the sand track I was on was at some places just few metres from the beach, the rocks, and the pounding surf. When I eventually did locate Lance and Bennie, and their rudimentary road marker, I was greeted with a simultaneous shake of the head and a textbook “things not working out for you there” from Zulu.
Few sights that I have seen can compete with a starlit African sky on a clear and frosty winter night, especially when you are far from the busy (and luminescent) city centres, and Lutzville definitely qualifies as such a place! Although nearly every waking moment during each of the last 23 days have been spent running around like a man possessed, I always find the time to think and reflect on life. Yes I’m a hippie I know. Quiet time late at night is a perfect time to clear one’s mind and ponder about the people, places or incidents that continue to occupy your subconscious during the frantic daytime hours. As a fellow blogger once remarked, “everywhere is anywhere under the cover of darkness”…
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