I’m awake at 4:30 already. Fuck, my ribs hurt.
I make some coffee, shower and attempt to get dressed and pack away my tent. But because I can hardly move my left side without pain, it takes 90 agonizing minutes. I hit the road at 6am.
My plan is to blast down the shortest route to Windhoek, meet the guys, load the bikes on the trailer and begin the 2-day drive to Cape Town.
The shortest route is a largely dirt route. As I turn off onto the gravel, I last about 5 minutes before my ribs are killing me. This is not going to work.
I stop and recalculate my GPS route to take the much less painful, but longer, tar route.
The morning passes quickly and I cover several hundred kilometers at 140km/h. At this point, I don’t care about conserving my rear tire. I just want to get off this rattling tortue device and into a comfy car seat.
Around 11am, I arrive in Windhoek and meet up wwith Jan Lucas and Marc who already have the trailer loaded and ready to rumble.
We’re all happy to be reunited. They have also had a hard ride yesterday. We exchange stories, load my bike onto the trailer and set off.
But the drama continues...
Along the way, the rear tire of the bike trailer bursts, destroying the rim and ripping the axle out of place.