Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Stuck in the Desert #3 3.10.2006
It's been two days since the first breakdown. Nate and I are huddled underneath a makeshift shade structure, hiding from the unrelenting sun. It is insufferably hot. The few trucks that have passed have refilled our dwindling water supply. Currently, we only have enough for about one more day. We got a call yesterday from Mike and Tuuli. They were fortunate and got a quick lift to Windhoek with Captain Morgan, the pirate guide, but took a different road and didn't pass us. We sent our broken shock, along with a chunk of the frame, with a passing car. With any luck, they will get it and figure out a way to get us out.
Earlier today we met a passing Namibian named Frank. After giving us some water and driving off, he turned around about 500 meters down the road, came back and asked us if we wanted a cold beer. I wondered why he was tempting us with the impossible, mocking our pitiable condition and rubbing salt into our fresh wounds. What kind of person would make light of a situation as serious as ours? Not Frank. Reaching behind him, he pulled out two icy cans of Windhoek Lager beer and tossed them to us. Incredibly grateful, Nate did a spontaneous beer dance in the middle of the road as Frank left us in a cloud a dust. Shaking and contorting his body in ways frighteningly similar to a chicken saved at the last moment from inevitable slaughter, Nate strutted back and forth in front of the car. He finished his beer, I emptied mine, and we crawled back under the Stingray to escape the lethal heat while we continue to wait.
It's been two days since the first breakdown. Nate and I are huddled underneath a makeshift shade structure, hiding from the unrelenting sun. It is insufferably hot. The few trucks that have passed have refilled our dwindling water supply. Currently, we only have enough for about one more day. We got a call yesterday from Mike and Tuuli. They were fortunate and got a quick lift to Windhoek with Captain Morgan, the pirate guide, but took a different road and didn't pass us. We sent our broken shock, along with a chunk of the frame, with a passing car. With any luck, they will get it and figure out a way to get us out.
Earlier today we met a passing Namibian named Frank. After giving us some water and driving off, he turned around about 500 meters down the road, came back and asked us if we wanted a cold beer. I wondered why he was tempting us with the impossible, mocking our pitiable condition and rubbing salt into our fresh wounds. What kind of person would make light of a situation as serious as ours? Not Frank. Reaching behind him, he pulled out two icy cans of Windhoek Lager beer and tossed them to us. Incredibly grateful, Nate did a spontaneous beer dance in the middle of the road as Frank left us in a cloud a dust. Shaking and contorting his body in ways frighteningly similar to a chicken saved at the last moment from inevitable slaughter, Nate strutted back and forth in front of the car. He finished his beer, I emptied mine, and we crawled back under the Stingray to escape the lethal heat while we continue to wait.
1 Comments:
I know about rain dance, but beer dance! Thank you for your very visually entertaining description. I got some looks in my internet cafe I am reading about your adventures. I am sure you get more of the beer in a near future. Bless you guys including the inhuman ? Stingray
aiti
Post a Comment
aiti
<< Home