Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 8

Stage 4  – January 7.

Twice in this race they had the racers do something especially challenging.  We raced 450 kilometers one way, where they gave you a tent and sleeping bag.  You pitched your tent in the middle of nowhere, and in the morning you raced back.  No mechanics.  Only two spare tires.

The course was fast all day.  In our class, SSV, we had a speed limiter – we could go up to 135 km an hour, or 84 miles an hour.  We were at that a lot.  It’s scary when you get dusted out and can’t see where you are going at 84 mph!

The engine was getting hot and we were concerned.  Too hot and the engine blows and we are out of the race.  Towards the end we had to stop and put four liters of water into the radiator.  It must have been leaking out somewhere.  Hopefully that somewhere was not through the head gasket into the engine.  After we got the checkered flag, it was only one kilometer to the camp.  It turned out to be a majestic setting where the flats rolled up against small mountains made of near vertical rock. 

As far as the overall standings, at the end of Stage 1, we were in 181st place out of about 280 four-wheel vehicles.  After stage 2 – 150th.  After Stage 3 – 135.  And now after stage 4 – 120th.  

Sometimes, you just keep showing up in life, long after your competition has failed, lost interest, retired – and you are ahead just because you kept showing up.

We got our tent, our sleeping bag, and a box of food.  Tent pitched, food hydrated with water, and eat. Sun sets, climb into the tent and go to sleep.  I’m a side sleeper, and the hard ground made for a bad night’s sleep with my shoulders and hips hurting.  In the morning we awake to the beautiful setting.  Instant coffee, eat, and wait a bit for our start time, watching other vehicles start from a perch up the rocks.  

Stage 5 was leaving this remote place and making our way back to the bivouac, which was normal, moved hundreds of miles since we saw it last.  They pack everything up – this whole city, and move it long distances, and set it up again.  Usually, just in the time we are out on the course.  It’s a miracle of logistics, planning and teamwork.

The course was fast all day.  We’d be going along and suddenly the car would come out of 4-wheel drive.  If I was turning, we’d start to fishtail.  Later, we would learn that we were just in the wrong electronic “mode”.  We did not know the car well enough at that moment.

The car continued to run hot, but it was intermittent.  We could not explain it.  It would be hot, then the temperature would come down.  Later, it would heat up again.  We had to stop for ten minutes to add four liters of water again.  We finished 115th overall in all four wheel classes, and 24th in our class – the best yet.  We were now 116th overall.  The mechanics fixed the water leak (so they thought) and replaced a broken sway arm.

I felt good – better every day.  The days are long, but my brain accepted it.  This is what we do every day.  We drive – fast in rough terrain – ALL DAY LONG.  That is our life right now.  

Dennis is great.  He is smart, experienced, and calm.  No drama.  Being from South Africa he has an accent.  (He says it’s me.)  Speed zones near villages or camel paddocks are either thirty kilometers per hour or fifty.  Well, the way the South Africans say “thirty” and “Fifty” sounds the same. Especially though headphones with tons of background engine and tire noise.  We had enough misunderstandings and clarifications that I asked him to say “Third Eye” or “Fitty Cent”.  He laughed and complied.  It worked.  

Dennis – “In 300 meters, speed zone, fitty cent.” 

Me – “Got it”