By now it was getting afternoony and I still had about 40 km of dunes to navigate to Two Rivers. I didn't know when they close the gate, but judging by other border posts (the entrance to Kgalagadi NP is also a border post), I suspected they may close at 16:00. So I jumped on the main track and pushed on to make it there before that time.
I knew I am being somewhat stupid and should have rather ease up as by now I was nursing proper headache from dehydration and heat. It was pretty hot and I was riding apart from few photo stops more or les nonstop since 9:00 am. Since then I have done about 140 km of sand and dunes and - because 500 made it deceiptively easy - I stupidly drank probably less than liter of water (I was carrying about 7 liters). I know dehydration when I feel one, and I knew I am being stupid, but I was keen to get to Two Rivers before the gate closes so after few gulps from my camel bag I just pushed on.
The rest of the track sailed up and down sets of paralled dunes all the way to the Two Rivers - the more west I got the more reddish tint they became:
Few km shy of Two Rivers I came upon my first fence and gate. I found gate in 180 km of sand and dunes an acceptable score, though of course I would have prefered not to find one at all.
I have made it to the gate at about 5 to 4pm. My original plan was the following: the top priority (minimum) was to talk them into letting me in to fill-up my bike at the camp petrol station. Second priority was to talk them into letting me sleep in their campsite, as that way I would also have access to the restaurant in the camp - bingo. If I could get petrol and but not be let to camp there, I was to backtrack into the dunes and bushcamp.
Hasty enquiry at the reception desk confirmed what I expected - the campsite was full, so no go. They wouldn't let me go on the bike to the petrol station either, but they offered that if I have a jerry can of a kind I can walk there to get petrol. I didn't - I took one of the Coke bottles with petrol in the morning as spare, but it fell off somewhere in the dunes. Plus, it would take quite a few trips there and back with 2 liter bottle to fill up my bike. No bueno.
My head was killing me by know, so I went into full autopilot mode - i.e. my inner gastro tourist took over. He argued that without petrol I'm toast anyway as I wouldn't risk trying to get over dunes back to my car and possibly running out, so the only option was to jump across the border and ride down to Molopo lodge, where they had petrol. Of course there was another option - backtrack to Struisedam about 20 km south, buy some bottles there (or even better, just buy bottles at the camp), fill-up and go sleep in dunes as planned originally. But there was one massive problem with that plan - no medium rare steak to be had this side of the border. I eat only once a day in the evening, but then I have to eat properly and while I came prepared with variety of possibly expired cans (as I have been carrying the same cans for past 2 years or so) in my bags, I felt that it may not fully satisfy the gastro tourist after 180 km of sand.
In other words, I went full tourist retard mode, thrown away any adventurer/outdoorsman pretenses and begged them to let me through the border, which they were about to close. Nice people they were they obliged and at about 16:05 I have made it across the border and after short break I rode remaining 50 km of tar south to Molopo lodge, where they were out of petrol. But not out of steak, so I booked into an A frame challet and rushed into the restuarant for a 4 course dinner of variety of meats and cold beverages. Petrol will have to wait till morning - I knew there is petrol station in Askham about 15 km away, so that should take care of that.
Molopo lodge ground: