On a horse with no name

Our journey to and from Walvis Bay and Swakopmund was pretty cool.  If you look at the country on the map, Namibia is only the size of a couple of our midwestern states combined.  Even so, we get all the landscapes.  The amazing thing about the drive is that there were no transitions.  You turn the corner and you're out of the desert and into the plains.  You top the crest of the hill and BOOM...you're in mountains.  You go from sea level to nearly a mile high in about 200 miles.  Incredible drive...even if it is all dirt road.  So, I've included some pictures in chronological order of our drive home.To the right here, you'll see the where the ocean meets the desert again.  

 Here is the desert.  We cruised through nothing but sand and gradual desert vegetation for about 70 miles.  It's the straightest road I've ever been on.  Straighter and flatter than Kansas if you can imagine that.

You'll notice it stayed flat, but we got some grass.  With the grass came a few animals.  The most impressive (and within picture range) was this Gemsbock here.  It's a gorgeous animal.  It took off running and we were able to stay with it for a few kilometers before it changed directions.  Really a remarkable animal.  In a related story, we had Gemsbock fajitas last night.  So, apart from magnificent, also quite delicious.

Same story with this fella.  This is a Springbock.  Really fast.  We were cruising along around 60 kph and this little guy was keeping up right in stride.  You'll notice the fence posts.  Well, he didn't.  He decided he wanted to come our direction and went right through the fence, doing a full flip, and crashing in the weeds.  He didn't jump right up either.  We stopped and went back to check on him when he got up and tried to jump back over the fence, only to another flip and crash to the ground before taking off across the field.


A little further down the road, we happened upon this riverbed in the mountains.  The mountains were incredible.  You can kind of see the ridges in the side that look like God swept over the region with a comb.  The entire area of about 50 km looked like they were formed quickly and violently.  This picture doesn't do it any justice.  I'll try to find some others. It's very impressive and breathtaking.  I never got bored looking out the window.

 You can kind of see the rolling hills that created deep, deep caverns in the landscape.  These were for as far as they eye could see.  I've really never seen any other formation quite like it.

So, there you have a brief tour of the Namib desert.  Amazing drive, absolutely amazing.  Next week we are going to Etosha, and game reserve in the north, so I should have more pictures coming.  Hopefully, we'll get to see the "lion's share" of the Big 5.  Get it? "Lion's share"?  Seriously.  I really want to see a lion.  

  

The other side of the desert

 We took time to be tourists this weekend.  After church on Sunday, we (Bryan, Dana, family friend Sybille, and the four of us) departed for the coastal town of Walvis Bay.  A little bit of history, Walvis Bay is one of the few deep ports on this side of the horn of Africa.  It's such a crucial port that when Namibia became an independent country in 1990, South Africa refused to release Walvis Bay.  However, in 1994 South Africa finally gave Namibia their prized port.  To your left, you'll see the sunset at the lagoon in Walvis.

After breakfast on Monday, we loaded up in the car and drove outside of Walvis Bay by about 15 km and came to Dune 7.  Namibia is home to the largest sand dunes in the world, which are even more amazing because they are right next to the coast.  It's a pretty impressive sight as there is absolutely no transition from ocean to desert.  Since we were at the dune, we had to climb the dune.

Topher climbed the dune 2.5 times.  We were incredibly impressed as he trekked up there twice and seemed like he would've gone more if we weren't exhausted.  He went with Kaci and Bryan for the second trip and they came across a Namibian at the top.  When he came down he said to me "I'm very impressed with your son.  I can't believe he has climbed it twice and it keeps pushing them to go on. He won't stop and they're at their max."  I think this phenomenon can be explained that Topher has a shirt back home that says "Sand Lover".  It's obviously true.

We then drove down the coast to some of the nicer beaches.  The water travels from the south from Antarctica.  Furthermore, it's winter.  So, the water was quite frigid.  When we arrived the high tide was coming in so Topher and I played chicken.  The game was going well till the tide knocked him off balance and he fell in.  He embraced the moment and the fact that he was wet to go ahead and play in the water a bit more bravely.  I'm not sure how, but he did.  In the picture to the right you can see another dune in the background.  It shows how the desert butts right up to the ocean.  The thing about Namibia is that you never run out of beach.

We travelled another 20-30 km down the coast to the tourist haven of Swakopmund.  We went there solely for coffee and sunset.  We were able to walk out to a jetty and watch the water crash into the rocks.  Because of the mist around Swakop, the sunset delivers some pretty amazing colors and really lights up the splashing water.  You can also see below the misty haze it casts on the city.  It's an impressive spot.

We only stayed through Monday and had to return Tuesday (today).  We drove to and fro through the Namib desert, which was also spectacular.  But, more on that tomorrow.

Biking Adventures Redux

We were finally able to get back on the bike today.  It was a special time.  Sure, its great exercise and bonding and all that.  But, what it really came down to was the opportunity to watch the human spirit prevail over a nemesis.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, refer to previous posts.

Superman had kryptonite and Lex Luthor.

Batman had the Joker.

Democrats have Republicans, and vice versa.

Children have broccolli.

Skydivers have gravity.

Large people have gravity.

Small people have large people.

Gravity has outer space.

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Bryan Bullington had train tracks....until today.

Bryan, 1.  Train Tracks, 0.  Well, I guess technically the train tracks were in the lead to begin with and Bryan just evened the score today, but, whatever.....

Idiot's Guide to driving on the wrong side of the road.

One day, hopefully, you're going to have the chance to visit a foreign land.  If you're lucky, this foreign land will have automobiles.  If you're really lucky, you'll get the experience of driving on the wrong side of the road.  You're probably saying "don't you mean left, Caleb?  'Wrong' seems very Western Elitist."  No.  It's the wrong side of the road.  Henry Ford revolutionized the way cars were produced and made available to the masses.  You know where he put the steering wheel?  On the left.  So if Henry Ford expected cars to be on the right side of the road, then who are we to say differently?  I digress.

I heard once that one of the leading causes of tourist deaths in Namibia is traffic accidents, particularly on that first day when you arrive and are leaving the airport.  Whether its true or not, I don't know.  It fits the topic so I'm running with it.  In order to prevent you from being one of those tourists, allow me to enlighten you.

The Best Offense is a Good Defense:
It's important to note that nobody here actually knows how to drive.  They know how to get it, turn the key, and accelerate, but beyond that driving isn't an art form as much as it is a chore.  Ever see an 18-wheeler make a U-turn on a major thoroughfare?  I did.  Last night.  Suddenly.  While I was driving 60 mph.  He started all the way in the left lane, didn't signal or anything and just whipped his rig right across all lanes of traffic in the middle of an intersection.  My tires made a lot of noise.  So, my approach now is that every time I step into a vehicle I expect to be killed.  If I make it to my destination unscathed, then its cause for celebration.

Racism is Worse Behind the Wheel:
Most of us are very aware of Nelson Mandela, or at the very least Morgan Freeman.  Mandela's story of liberation and rise to power is extraordinary.  His approach to healing and forgiveness as a means to repair South Africa is even more extraordinary. Namibia being a former territory of South Africa also received great benefit from Mandela's path to power. However, what isn't communicated is the state of the Afrikaaner.  Afrikaaners are a robust, proud, brash, and aggressive people.  That's the stereotype anyway.  Many have let bygones be bygones, but many haven't been able to let of the past.  They remember the good ol' days when they dominated the region and ruled with unmatched power.  Considering that was only two decades a ago, its still fresh on a lot of people's minds as it has changed the way of life for many.  As a result, they fight the power in more subtle ways.  For example, they are tired of being told what to do.  They've lost their clout with people, but there is no way that a sign is going to make them stop.  No, they're going to fight the man.  You're going to tell them they can only drive 80 kph?  I don't think so.  Right now at this very moment there is an Afrikaaner trying to break the land speed record on Robert Mugabe highway.  You probably want to avoid cutting them off so its best to never change lanes.

You Can't Stop Expansion
The people won't be silenced.  Every morning, I take the bypass out to Katutura. This is about a 15 mile stretch of road where I get to shift into 5th gear and drive in a straight line without the annoyance of traffic lights or stop signs.  The speed limit is 120 kph, but inevitably there are a handful of drivers that refuse to go over 80kph.  A large stretch of this road is two lane with a wide shoulder.  But, these 80kph drivers refuse to be bound by the constraint of two lanes.  Instead, they convert the should and about 2 feet of the lane into their own private slow lane.  I haven't decided if this is highly courteous or highly annoying.  I don't understand why they can't just go 120kph and be done with it.

A few other pointers include, always look right first because that's where the traffic is coming from.  They don't allow left turns on red lights.  Honking isn't a sign of aggression, its more of an announcement that you're here.  And finally, you're best bet is to get to your destination and just stay there.

Manliness at its pinnacle

This is a story of great agility and prudence.  Or, the complete of opposite of that.

This story is in two parts.  Nay, not two Parts 1 and 2, but Part Saturday and Part Sunday.

Part Saturday.  In preparation of coming to Namibia, my father-in-law, Bryan, and I vowed that we would be getting on the bikes and riding frequently.  Bryan has fallen from the Road Cycling faith and crossed over to Mountain Biking.  I told him of my inexperience, but he told me not to worry, we'd take it slow.  So, after fitting myself to one of his spares, we departed there home and made our way to the trails.  We traveled down a few roads, circled a couple of round-a-bouts, dodged a few cars, and made our way to some nice and easy double track trails.  They were rather flat and simple as we were really just riding to kick the rust off and get our legs back in order.  It was great as I needed to adjust to mountain biking, rocks, sand, etc.

After a few miles or so, we approached some train tracks.  They looked a little steep to me so I decided to fall behind Bryan to see how he would navigate the tracks and then I would follow and take his line.  So, I watched as Bryan made his way up the small hump to first rail and give it a hop over.  I thought "yeah, I'll do it like he did it."  Then, Bryan's back tire caught the first rail and slammed his front tire down just in time to catch the second rail.  The bike came to a standstill, but Bryan did not.  In slow motion, Bryan's back tire came off the ground and his Bronco of mountain bike discarded him effortlessly.  At this moment I thought "nope.  I'm not going to do it like this.  This is going downhill.  Ha! Downhill.  Good one Caleb."  In continued slow motion, Bryan continued to fall forward in the direction of his face.  Bryan was clipped in at the pedals so his feet didn't immediately come out.  Instead his bike continued to flip upside down with him in tow.  But, the Bronco had another buck.  While inverted, his clips gave way and his feet came tumbling after.  At this point, I assumed that Bryan had died and I was planning what I would say at his funeral...and to the police.  Then it also occurred to me that I'm in a foreign land and had no idea where I was standing at that very moment.  This was unfortunate as Bryan was about to suffer from a tremendous brain injury, so we would be left to die out in the cold.  Finally, Bryan fell on his face, neck, then his back.  Meanwhile, I had carefully dismounted my bike and walked over the tracks where Bryan's corpse came to rest.  He stood up. I assumed it was just the nerves and it would all be over soon.  I approached and asked "are you okay?"  He said, "give it a second".  Simultaneously, we both looked down at his knee.  By knee, I actually mean knee.  His knee had unclothed itself of its fleshy garment and it stared back at me.  That's only a mild exaggeration.

Seeing as how Bryan had not actually died and somehow still had a face, I decided I should call for help.  This, of course, is always easier with a phone.  I asked Bryan if he had his.  He wasn't concussed but he did respond with "yes, its in my asdl;kjfj;asdlkfj."  So, having one of our good friends become a police officer last year, I assumed I could master the pat down.  I found the phone.  And no drugs.  I ended up having to call one of the friends of family in Namibia and began organizing the event later to be known as "The Great Rescue."  As I hung up the phone a lady in a truck came around the corner to find both of our bikes strung across the trail, Bryan laying on the ground with his skeleton showing, and me standing over him maliciously holding the phone.  She was nice enough to ask if we needed to be taken somewhere.  When I said we had a ride coming, she then kindly asked me to move my bike so she could get around.  In the end, 15 stitches inside and 10 on the outside.  No riding for 10 days.

Part Sunday

I still desperately wanted to ride as I need to mind my personal fitness.  A group from the church was planning to ride later in the day and invited me to come.  Again, I'm not a mountain biker.  I'm a road cyclist.  And, really, I'm fat and so out of shape I'd be better off in a car but I said yes.  So, again, I embarked on another ride with a larger group after having gained so much expertise from the previous day's ride.  We hit some of the back country (that can actually be seen in the photo from the previous post above).  There were a few more hills and rocks, and a lot more sand.  The sand is rather brutal too.  If you don't hit it just right, it turns your front tire and I think you can see where this is headed.

Anyhow, I suffered up a few hills, carefully traveled down a few hills, dodged a few rocks, navigated some sand, avoided some trees, and didn't see a single lion.  If you reference the previous paragraph, you'll also remember that I'm fat and grossly out of shape, which plays a pretty massive part in my decision making for this next part.

We had finally hit a long stretch of trail that didn't require stopping to open and close gates.  It was mostly downhill with a couple of small climbs in between so everybody took off.  I'm slow up the climbs anyway, and I was being careful on the downhills due to my inexperience.  After a decent distance while the group was pretty well spread out (myself in the rear) I came to a straight, quarter-mile downward decline.  It looked nice and flat, but it would be followed by a rather steep climb that was more than I cared to attack so I started strategizing.  I knew that if I could get up enough speed I would be able to use my momentum to help me up most of the climb.  So, I started picking up speed and decided to open up full bore.  I clicked out of my middle ring into my big ring.  Something didn't feel quite right and I had chain issues a couple of miles back.  I looked down for a moment and saw that everything was fine.  I looked up to a surprise.  As most of you know, dirt roads usually have those ridges that are formed when rain washes part of the road away.  One of those was coming my way.  Since I had looked down, I didn't have time to veer around it so I tried to find my line of least resistance.  As I rode through/over/not exactly sure, something knocked my rear tire out of line and I began to lose control.  Then I hit some of that ridiculous sand which rerouted my front tire.  Now, control was completely lost.  There were a few thoughts that went through my head, the most prevalent being "you've got to be kidding me."  Finally, my bike grew tired of having me around.  It went right.  I went straight.

Fortunately, I know how to fall; tuck and roll.  It's simple.  Don't try to catch yourself with your hands because you'll break your arms and mess up your hands.  I need my hands to play guitar. "Tuck the head, roll the shoulder" is what I said to myself.  I flew, tucked, rolled, and finally landed on my head, bounced to my shoulder, flew some more, became more of a ragdoll, flipped over to my back, back to my front, back onto my shoulder where I skidded another few feet.  I immediately felt dizzy and naseaus as I came to a rest.  My head pounded.  Then the pain hit me at full force.  I let out an indiscernible yell praying that someone would hear.  Then I went into full systems check mode.  "Head? Check. I think.  Neck? Yep, still works.  Back? Good.  Legs? They'll hurt later.  Arms? Ugh.  That won't be pretty."

My friend Pete raced down the hill to find me saying "Oh no, oh no, oh no."  That doesn't usually make me feel confident.  He hopped off and had me go through systems check again.  Friend #2 came down and said "looks like you just bought your first piece of Namibian real estate."  Pete continued checking my status as friend #3 came down and said "hey! looks like you just bought your first piece of Namibian real estate."  We determined that my neck and back were fine while friend #4 came down yelling "looks like you just bought your first piece of Namibian real estate."  I asked if there was any blood.  Pete told me my shirt was shredded and I had a little bit on my knee, but everything seemed to be intact.  At that point, friend #5 came down and predictably said "looks like you just bought your first piece of Namibian real estate."  As I was just thinking that this country needed more jokes, Pete said "Congratulations, looks like you just bought your first piece of Namibian real estate."

All is fine except from some scrapes and much pain.  My head must have taken the most impact as my helmet was completely cracked from the front back to the middle.  You can see the road rash on one of my recent facebook posts.  Bryan and I will likely be playing cards or chess for the next little while.  There are two lessons to be learned from this.

1.  Always, ALWAYS wear a helmet when biking.  It'll save your life.
2.  Comedy is dead in Namibia.