shaggydoink
New member
Thank you for sharing your adventure! :smiley_drive:
Shaggy
Shaggy
Three weeks in North Africa driving as far south as latitude 23
- Thread starter thebigblue
- Start date
Scott Brady
Founder
Fantastic images. A return trip to northern Africa is high on my list, a meander through the high Atlas and western Sahara. The G-Wagen looks great too!
thebigblue
Adventurer
Thanks Scott - I stole the solution for the black bonnet wrap from you lovely G. I will return to Anti Atlas and Western Sahara for 6 weeks late February 2015 - can't wait. And I´m dreaming about shipping to Capetown and do Namibia.... Maybe next year
Last edited:
thebigblue
Adventurer
thebigblue
Adventurer
Day 6 #2
Some more rock-art in the Western Sahara, illuminated by the saturated light from the setting sun. I could easily spend several mornings and evenings capturing these aged drawings on my digital image sensor.
I was lucky to be here in this spectacular warm light.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-9-2014.asp?id=37
Some more rock-art in the Western Sahara, illuminated by the saturated light from the setting sun. I could easily spend several mornings and evenings capturing these aged drawings on my digital image sensor.
I was lucky to be here in this spectacular warm light.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-9-2014.asp?id=37
thebigblue
Adventurer
Day 7 #1
We all change over time, and I´m not thinking of exterior impression here, I´m talking about the change in our personality. Well it´s not entirely true come to think closer of it, - several individuals will never change, they will forever be selfish and ignorant pricks.
The reason why this comes to me at this moment, is that I have noticed a radical change within myself. Firstly I have observed that when I´m in nature, in the middle of desolated beautiful vistas I will wake up by myself without an alarm, very early, often hours before sunrise. At home I really love sleeping late and hate getting up in the morning; but this is not the case at all when I´m traveling. I apparently enjoy the grande views so much that I´m afraid I will miss out any.
And so again this morning I have risen very early all in good time to enjoy the sunrise itself and the hours beforehand, where the skies gradually changes from dark, over pink to orange, and end up in a warm yellow explosion before it all goes blue, from light blue to a darker one.
Again today I had time to explore the rock art, and on this morning the low light from the sun naturally had a different direction than yesterday evening, allowing me to photograph in a different perspective. I was grateful for this gift that nature presented for my eyes this morning.
So, - to get back to the subject of changes in mentality and personality over age; you see most people will grow softer and become more mellow with age I think. At least that´s what has happen to me, I have radically changed my view on, - and my conception of the definition of happiness, and on what it takes to be a happy and fulfilled person. And I have deiced to act on this, to put my newly gained knowledge into action. I will change my way of life radically, and I will not wait until I can retire with a proper retirement plan and pension, but soon, - very soon.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-10-2014.asp?id=39
We all change over time, and I´m not thinking of exterior impression here, I´m talking about the change in our personality. Well it´s not entirely true come to think closer of it, - several individuals will never change, they will forever be selfish and ignorant pricks.
The reason why this comes to me at this moment, is that I have noticed a radical change within myself. Firstly I have observed that when I´m in nature, in the middle of desolated beautiful vistas I will wake up by myself without an alarm, very early, often hours before sunrise. At home I really love sleeping late and hate getting up in the morning; but this is not the case at all when I´m traveling. I apparently enjoy the grande views so much that I´m afraid I will miss out any.
And so again this morning I have risen very early all in good time to enjoy the sunrise itself and the hours beforehand, where the skies gradually changes from dark, over pink to orange, and end up in a warm yellow explosion before it all goes blue, from light blue to a darker one.
Again today I had time to explore the rock art, and on this morning the low light from the sun naturally had a different direction than yesterday evening, allowing me to photograph in a different perspective. I was grateful for this gift that nature presented for my eyes this morning.
So, - to get back to the subject of changes in mentality and personality over age; you see most people will grow softer and become more mellow with age I think. At least that´s what has happen to me, I have radically changed my view on, - and my conception of the definition of happiness, and on what it takes to be a happy and fulfilled person. And I have deiced to act on this, to put my newly gained knowledge into action. I will change my way of life radically, and I will not wait until I can retire with a proper retirement plan and pension, but soon, - very soon.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-10-2014.asp?id=39
thebigblue
Adventurer
Thanks, it´s difficult not to take great photos in this place
Nice 130
Yes the light is quite special with the reflection from the sand
thebigblue
Adventurer
day 7 #2A
As you can easily tell; I was completely taken in by the rock art. Although this is my second time here I was overwhelmed by the engravings again, more this time than on my first visit I´m sure. It might be the orange morning-light from the sun than had just surfaced above the horizon; saturating all the colors in a beautiful reddish-orange-yellow cast.
I´m surely no expert on rock-art; but it´s my understanding that these engravings are pretty old. And the evidence is that some of them show animals that have only lived here in a distant past when this was not a desert, but a tropical forest and plains filled with animals like giraffes, ostriches and antelopes. You will also see that there´s a different style, - some is made with solid lines, others made up by dots in the lava-rock. A few is nearly washed out by now, as evidence of the endless sandblasting that mother nature performs here on this hill on windy days.
It´s sad to see that in the past three years since I first was here the rock-art have been tempered with and someone unfortunate has made some graffiti engravings amongst the original rock-art; and it fills my heart with sadness. What individual would want to damage this lovely gift from our forefathers? It´s beyond me to understand this; do they simply not know the value of this, - or simply just don´t appreciate it? Luckily this place is of the beaten track; and few locals and tourist come here into this desolated part of the desert.
But if rock-art and engravings are not for you, you might want to jump to the bottom of this page for a few landscape photographs.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-11-2014.asp?id=40
As you can easily tell; I was completely taken in by the rock art. Although this is my second time here I was overwhelmed by the engravings again, more this time than on my first visit I´m sure. It might be the orange morning-light from the sun than had just surfaced above the horizon; saturating all the colors in a beautiful reddish-orange-yellow cast.
I´m surely no expert on rock-art; but it´s my understanding that these engravings are pretty old. And the evidence is that some of them show animals that have only lived here in a distant past when this was not a desert, but a tropical forest and plains filled with animals like giraffes, ostriches and antelopes. You will also see that there´s a different style, - some is made with solid lines, others made up by dots in the lava-rock. A few is nearly washed out by now, as evidence of the endless sandblasting that mother nature performs here on this hill on windy days.
It´s sad to see that in the past three years since I first was here the rock-art have been tempered with and someone unfortunate has made some graffiti engravings amongst the original rock-art; and it fills my heart with sadness. What individual would want to damage this lovely gift from our forefathers? It´s beyond me to understand this; do they simply not know the value of this, - or simply just don´t appreciate it? Luckily this place is of the beaten track; and few locals and tourist come here into this desolated part of the desert.
But if rock-art and engravings are not for you, you might want to jump to the bottom of this page for a few landscape photographs.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-11-2014.asp?id=40
Last edited:
thebigblue
Adventurer
thebigblue
Adventurer
day 7 #3
When roaming around in the desolated regions of Western Sahara you will have gotten fairly used to see and experience stuff out of the ordinary, - see things you won´t find at home in Europe and certainly not in Scandinavia where I live; like very old rock-art, great saturated sun-rises and sun-sets, endless sand-dunes and ancient tombs; - but still I was not prepared to stumble over a unexploded and more than 1.5 m. long bomb in the middle of the desert, and I was genuine and greatly surprised by this encounter. I was not shocked, but as close as you will get; - after all it´s fairly common to stumble over leftover hardware from the resent war here in Western Sahara, but certainly not in this scale. It will often not be anything bigger than a used launching-device for a mortar or for a anti-panzer missile or just some big-caliber cartridges from a heavy machine gun. So this was quite spectacular.
It was around 4.30 pm. and we were quite close to the border to Mauritania, the travel-party were scattered a bit in search of a nice spot to make camp for the night. I were on my own about a half kilometer further north than the others from the group, driving slowly up a oued (wadi) enjoying myself, the view and the sunny weather. I was totally relaxed and hence I was completely taken by surprise by the unexpected view to the unexploded bomb laying in the sand only a few meters from my truck. After a short while of just sitting inside my Geländewagen staring on the lump of metal in awe, I regained my composure and contacted my travel-companions over the CB-radio; concluding that they maybe would want to see the blody thing.
They were all quite stunned by what they saw when they arrived at the site; partly because I in my state of mind had insulted the bomb and called it a granate; but mostly because it was quite a big device. As little as I´m an expert on rock-art, as little am I an weapons-expert, but a quick search revealed that the rear part of the bomb might have originated from USA as I located a reference to a inactive US Army Research Development & Engineering Command standard MIL-A-14712A (2), published on 1974-02-28.
After some curious investigation and a lot of taking photographs, we left the bomb alone in solitude in the desert. We then had the fortune to locate a nice potential camp-site-spot a few kilometers further upstream in the wadi, and made camp for the night. The day had been very eventful, not only because of the bomb-find; but also because we had located a new set of rock-art not to far from the already know location. This new collection of engravings had a particular nice piece, portraying a mother-antelope and four calves on the same lava-rock.
Little did we know, at that time, that the Western Sahara still had some unexpected events in store for us this very evening.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-12-2014.asp?id=41
When roaming around in the desolated regions of Western Sahara you will have gotten fairly used to see and experience stuff out of the ordinary, - see things you won´t find at home in Europe and certainly not in Scandinavia where I live; like very old rock-art, great saturated sun-rises and sun-sets, endless sand-dunes and ancient tombs; - but still I was not prepared to stumble over a unexploded and more than 1.5 m. long bomb in the middle of the desert, and I was genuine and greatly surprised by this encounter. I was not shocked, but as close as you will get; - after all it´s fairly common to stumble over leftover hardware from the resent war here in Western Sahara, but certainly not in this scale. It will often not be anything bigger than a used launching-device for a mortar or for a anti-panzer missile or just some big-caliber cartridges from a heavy machine gun. So this was quite spectacular.
It was around 4.30 pm. and we were quite close to the border to Mauritania, the travel-party were scattered a bit in search of a nice spot to make camp for the night. I were on my own about a half kilometer further north than the others from the group, driving slowly up a oued (wadi) enjoying myself, the view and the sunny weather. I was totally relaxed and hence I was completely taken by surprise by the unexpected view to the unexploded bomb laying in the sand only a few meters from my truck. After a short while of just sitting inside my Geländewagen staring on the lump of metal in awe, I regained my composure and contacted my travel-companions over the CB-radio; concluding that they maybe would want to see the blody thing.
They were all quite stunned by what they saw when they arrived at the site; partly because I in my state of mind had insulted the bomb and called it a granate; but mostly because it was quite a big device. As little as I´m an expert on rock-art, as little am I an weapons-expert, but a quick search revealed that the rear part of the bomb might have originated from USA as I located a reference to a inactive US Army Research Development & Engineering Command standard MIL-A-14712A (2), published on 1974-02-28.
After some curious investigation and a lot of taking photographs, we left the bomb alone in solitude in the desert. We then had the fortune to locate a nice potential camp-site-spot a few kilometers further upstream in the wadi, and made camp for the night. The day had been very eventful, not only because of the bomb-find; but also because we had located a new set of rock-art not to far from the already know location. This new collection of engravings had a particular nice piece, portraying a mother-antelope and four calves on the same lava-rock.
Little did we know, at that time, that the Western Sahara still had some unexpected events in store for us this very evening.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-12-2014.asp?id=41
thebigblue
Adventurer
Day 8
Yesterday evening we heard a truck in the far distance, the noise went and came back from time to time, and we did not take further notice of it. But after a while the sound grew stronger, and we saw a very old Land Cruiser appear over the hillside at our camp. Apparently the LC would be a military vehicle because there were no glass on it at all, thus preventing any reflections from the sun to bounce off and reveal it.
We were briefly interviewed by the personnel with questions about our route and our planned heading for tomorrow, and whom we were. After a while they seemed pleased with our answers and took of again. But this would certainly not be the end of it; later that evening in the dark we spotted a set of headlight approaching us in the far distant. And sure enough after a while a Hummer in military colors arrived at camp with two soldiers and a local chauffeur in it. This time one of the visitors were a higher ranking soldier, and he spoke better English than the previous visitors we had.
This time the inquiry became more thorough and he wanted to know if the trucks were owned by us, if any in the party had a military background, what we were doing here and where we had planed to drive the following day. It was quite a long conversation but during the hole session they were extremely polite and he also had initiated the conversation by welcoming us to Morocco, numerous times actually. They warned us that there could be animals like snakes, scorpions and lizards in the sand, - and that we please should take care. It seemed to us that they mostly were concerned about our safety, and not from the danger from wildlife, but actually due to the fact that we had camped only a few kilometers from the border to Mauritania. Or maybe we were potential smugglers to them, although I don´t actually think so.
After a period with polite conversation we were informed that they had been instructed to escort us out from the area because it was a military area. They would escort us 60 km. away from the border in a westerly direction the following morning, onto a paved road leading towards Laayoune. We naturally had to agree, and so the three soldiers took of again in their Hummer. Shortly after the Land Cruiser with no windshield reappeared and parked in the dark on a hillside above our camp. I later learned that they would stay all night to watch over us.
We were all then satisfied and went to bed, some in their rooftop tents, one in a ground-tent and myself inside my Geländewagen. I slept wonderfully all night long until sunrise; to realize that the soldiers were still on the hill; and to be told the story of how another more superior officer had arrived around midnight to perform yet another inspection in our camp. We were all asleep when they arrived and they had woken Steve by knocking on his car window, not realizing he was sleeping in the rooftop tent. Steve naturally had pointed them to our guides truck, they woke him up and then demanded that we should all rise and present our passports. Paul naturally did not want to fulfill their request; and somehow managed to satisfy the officers by showing his own passport and a list with detailed personal data on the full travel-party.
So in the morning we were escorted 60 km. west until we met the tarmac. Again the military personnel were extremely polite, and actually made excuses for thier superiors invasion of our camp at midnight. Since we were actually not headed for Laayoune, we simply crossed the tarmac and made a big arc back south-east as we wanted to go further south into the Western Sahara. As far south as our amount of fuel would alow us to.
Upon this adventure the Western Sahara still had yet another surprise up the sleeve; a quite annoying sand-storm rolled in from the west, it was to bee seen many many kilometers before it hit us. This middle section of the Western Sahara is extremely desolated and unbelievable flat. Driving here on the flat plain there´s simply no features to be seen in the horizon, and only a very few scattered bushes and small trees will brake the monotony. I have never been in such a place before in my life, you have a unobstructed 360 degrees view as far as the earths curvature will allow; - that is when a sandstorm is not interfering. And I have never experienced that the clear blue sky would turn from dark blue to dull grey within minutes. All the colors in the landscape is desaturated during the sand-storm, and it feels like your´re looking though a opaque piece of glass.
As you drive further south the distance between signs of live decreases and becomes very obvious, the population of trees and bushes also belittles until it is close to zero. And so we had to drive around quite a while, in order to find just a minimal amount of cover from the wind on the flats. Luckily the wind died just after sunset, and it all became yet another lovely evening in camp.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-13-2014.asp?id=42
Yesterday evening we heard a truck in the far distance, the noise went and came back from time to time, and we did not take further notice of it. But after a while the sound grew stronger, and we saw a very old Land Cruiser appear over the hillside at our camp. Apparently the LC would be a military vehicle because there were no glass on it at all, thus preventing any reflections from the sun to bounce off and reveal it.
We were briefly interviewed by the personnel with questions about our route and our planned heading for tomorrow, and whom we were. After a while they seemed pleased with our answers and took of again. But this would certainly not be the end of it; later that evening in the dark we spotted a set of headlight approaching us in the far distant. And sure enough after a while a Hummer in military colors arrived at camp with two soldiers and a local chauffeur in it. This time one of the visitors were a higher ranking soldier, and he spoke better English than the previous visitors we had.
This time the inquiry became more thorough and he wanted to know if the trucks were owned by us, if any in the party had a military background, what we were doing here and where we had planed to drive the following day. It was quite a long conversation but during the hole session they were extremely polite and he also had initiated the conversation by welcoming us to Morocco, numerous times actually. They warned us that there could be animals like snakes, scorpions and lizards in the sand, - and that we please should take care. It seemed to us that they mostly were concerned about our safety, and not from the danger from wildlife, but actually due to the fact that we had camped only a few kilometers from the border to Mauritania. Or maybe we were potential smugglers to them, although I don´t actually think so.
After a period with polite conversation we were informed that they had been instructed to escort us out from the area because it was a military area. They would escort us 60 km. away from the border in a westerly direction the following morning, onto a paved road leading towards Laayoune. We naturally had to agree, and so the three soldiers took of again in their Hummer. Shortly after the Land Cruiser with no windshield reappeared and parked in the dark on a hillside above our camp. I later learned that they would stay all night to watch over us.
We were all then satisfied and went to bed, some in their rooftop tents, one in a ground-tent and myself inside my Geländewagen. I slept wonderfully all night long until sunrise; to realize that the soldiers were still on the hill; and to be told the story of how another more superior officer had arrived around midnight to perform yet another inspection in our camp. We were all asleep when they arrived and they had woken Steve by knocking on his car window, not realizing he was sleeping in the rooftop tent. Steve naturally had pointed them to our guides truck, they woke him up and then demanded that we should all rise and present our passports. Paul naturally did not want to fulfill their request; and somehow managed to satisfy the officers by showing his own passport and a list with detailed personal data on the full travel-party.
So in the morning we were escorted 60 km. west until we met the tarmac. Again the military personnel were extremely polite, and actually made excuses for thier superiors invasion of our camp at midnight. Since we were actually not headed for Laayoune, we simply crossed the tarmac and made a big arc back south-east as we wanted to go further south into the Western Sahara. As far south as our amount of fuel would alow us to.
Upon this adventure the Western Sahara still had yet another surprise up the sleeve; a quite annoying sand-storm rolled in from the west, it was to bee seen many many kilometers before it hit us. This middle section of the Western Sahara is extremely desolated and unbelievable flat. Driving here on the flat plain there´s simply no features to be seen in the horizon, and only a very few scattered bushes and small trees will brake the monotony. I have never been in such a place before in my life, you have a unobstructed 360 degrees view as far as the earths curvature will allow; - that is when a sandstorm is not interfering. And I have never experienced that the clear blue sky would turn from dark blue to dull grey within minutes. All the colors in the landscape is desaturated during the sand-storm, and it feels like your´re looking though a opaque piece of glass.
As you drive further south the distance between signs of live decreases and becomes very obvious, the population of trees and bushes also belittles until it is close to zero. And so we had to drive around quite a while, in order to find just a minimal amount of cover from the wind on the flats. Luckily the wind died just after sunset, and it all became yet another lovely evening in camp.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-13-2014.asp?id=42
thebigblue
Adventurer
Day 9
Today it happened again, Paul would have to work on Ken´s Land Rover Defender once more; this morning it was a shock-absorber that needed attention.
Earlier on the trip, when we were passing through a tiny village in the Anti-Atlas mountains, the Defender had a catastrophic and very sudden clutch-failure. Not in a way the normal failure happens, where you will experience that the point of engagement of the clutch slowly, but steadily, travels towards the floor of the car with each push; indicating a leakage somewhere in the hydraulic-system.
So, with a completely non-operating clutch we had no choice but to make a stop in a appropriate spot and have a closer look. We were all certain that this would be the normal fix; either a defective slave-cylinder or the master-cylinder needed some TLC. Ken, apparently knowing his Defender quite well, brings quite a collection of spare-parts, and naturally revealed a brand new replacement slave-cylinder and a full repair-kit for the master-cylinder, from the enclosure of his 110. So without any further delay and with determination in his eyes Paul pulled his toolbox and set off under the truck to fix the damn problem.
Step one was to replace the slave-cylinder, a fairly easy task although being in the bush with no access to a lift. To our dissatisfaction this did not cure the sick clutch at all. So the next thing would naturally be to trow the repair-kit at the master-cylinder that disrespectful thought that mutiny would be quite timely. This however proved to be a daunting task, on a very bad day a very bad British Engineer had been so careless as to construct a fullish bracket to support the clutch-lever and the master-cylinder; mind you such a silly piece of a bracket that it would not easily be dismantled.
Since Paul is´t getting any younger and his body will begin to ache from time to time he used the opportunity to lubricate his aging shoulder with some hydraulic-fluid during the repair-process, - just in case you know and naturally quite unselfish just to speed the progress up a bit.
The sun was quite close to the tip of the Anti-Atlas before all the clutch-bits was put together and bleed with hydraulic-fluid. To our astonishment the clutch was still very ill after all the tiring work. With this knowledge Paul took another leap beneath the sick patient; after awhile of fiddling the doctor announced the diagnostics: the clutch-fork was defective, something had broken or broken off it, it seemed. This was more than Paul our guide, slash bush-mechanic, would want to fix onsite exposed to the outdoors and the fading light; - although Ken after a short while unaffected returned from the inner guts of his sick patient with a brand new clutch-fork.
Naturally Paul promptly chose to tackled the situation by taking a short test-drive in the sick creature to establish that the unfortunate Defender could actually maneuver though the gears without a working clutch; not without an argument from time to time; but still it was doable. Right then, - we all then took off to locate a camp-site, as it now was well after sun-set and getting quite dark.
The following day we would all drive together into town to try to locate a local Land Rover mechanic that would be willing to take care of the Defender, and fix the malfunctioning clutch. The clutch-fork had naturally chosen to collapse on a Thursday, so when we arrived in town just after midday on a Friday, all of the inhabitants had gone off to the musk, thus delaying the search for a mechanic quite a bit. But finally Paul showed up at the meeting point in the afternoon, declaring that the Defender would be taken care off shortly, and maybe the mechanic would be able to fix it on the same day; giving Ken the option to catch-up with the rest of us in the evening. Which he luckily did.
So with that experience well behind us, we were not surprised this morning when Ken also on this occasion took a deep breath and dived into his spare-parts compartment, - and resurfaced with a replacement shock-absorber. Paul estimated the problem being so tedious that it was not worth him getting into his coverall, - a few bolts and bits decided to be stubborn and the fix did take a while.
An hour later the job was done and we were all then ready to go hunt for some additional adventure. With all the engagement we already have had with the Moroccan military, one would think that it would be the end of it; - but oh no no, not likely. Before we actually set of from camp this morning we observed loud noises and very tall dust-clouds not too far from our camp. There was no doubt in our minds that this was huge explosives going off, probably some artillery gun firing, and at lot of it, and it was frightening close to our position. With an iPhone compass and Paul's digital mapping software we soon clarified that the impact-zone was spot-on in the center of our planned heading.
We then back-tracked in an arc to meet up with the main-piste before heading south again. Cruising south on the piste we could observe a rather huge collection of military hard-ware and personnel placed on each side of the piste; and we where left with no other choice but to drive though the middle of the whole shebang, in order to follow the track. Very unexpectedly we were not stopped on one single occasion in this confinement of soldiers. My guess is that they already knew very well that we would be coming and exactly whom we were; but the others in the travel-party questioned my opinion; - we will never know. Maybe the military were simply taken by surprise, thinking no civilian would be here in the southern and desolated part of the Western Sahara.
In camp in yet another wadi we experienced some light local rainfall during dinner-time; and we could watch a heavy rain-storm pass us, not to far away, covering the sky with dark clouds. We all took shelter from the water-drops and made it an early night. The rain then intensified a lot during the evening and night.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-14-2014.asp?id=43
Today it happened again, Paul would have to work on Ken´s Land Rover Defender once more; this morning it was a shock-absorber that needed attention.
Earlier on the trip, when we were passing through a tiny village in the Anti-Atlas mountains, the Defender had a catastrophic and very sudden clutch-failure. Not in a way the normal failure happens, where you will experience that the point of engagement of the clutch slowly, but steadily, travels towards the floor of the car with each push; indicating a leakage somewhere in the hydraulic-system.
So, with a completely non-operating clutch we had no choice but to make a stop in a appropriate spot and have a closer look. We were all certain that this would be the normal fix; either a defective slave-cylinder or the master-cylinder needed some TLC. Ken, apparently knowing his Defender quite well, brings quite a collection of spare-parts, and naturally revealed a brand new replacement slave-cylinder and a full repair-kit for the master-cylinder, from the enclosure of his 110. So without any further delay and with determination in his eyes Paul pulled his toolbox and set off under the truck to fix the damn problem.
Step one was to replace the slave-cylinder, a fairly easy task although being in the bush with no access to a lift. To our dissatisfaction this did not cure the sick clutch at all. So the next thing would naturally be to trow the repair-kit at the master-cylinder that disrespectful thought that mutiny would be quite timely. This however proved to be a daunting task, on a very bad day a very bad British Engineer had been so careless as to construct a fullish bracket to support the clutch-lever and the master-cylinder; mind you such a silly piece of a bracket that it would not easily be dismantled.
Since Paul is´t getting any younger and his body will begin to ache from time to time he used the opportunity to lubricate his aging shoulder with some hydraulic-fluid during the repair-process, - just in case you know and naturally quite unselfish just to speed the progress up a bit.
The sun was quite close to the tip of the Anti-Atlas before all the clutch-bits was put together and bleed with hydraulic-fluid. To our astonishment the clutch was still very ill after all the tiring work. With this knowledge Paul took another leap beneath the sick patient; after awhile of fiddling the doctor announced the diagnostics: the clutch-fork was defective, something had broken or broken off it, it seemed. This was more than Paul our guide, slash bush-mechanic, would want to fix onsite exposed to the outdoors and the fading light; - although Ken after a short while unaffected returned from the inner guts of his sick patient with a brand new clutch-fork.
Naturally Paul promptly chose to tackled the situation by taking a short test-drive in the sick creature to establish that the unfortunate Defender could actually maneuver though the gears without a working clutch; not without an argument from time to time; but still it was doable. Right then, - we all then took off to locate a camp-site, as it now was well after sun-set and getting quite dark.
The following day we would all drive together into town to try to locate a local Land Rover mechanic that would be willing to take care of the Defender, and fix the malfunctioning clutch. The clutch-fork had naturally chosen to collapse on a Thursday, so when we arrived in town just after midday on a Friday, all of the inhabitants had gone off to the musk, thus delaying the search for a mechanic quite a bit. But finally Paul showed up at the meeting point in the afternoon, declaring that the Defender would be taken care off shortly, and maybe the mechanic would be able to fix it on the same day; giving Ken the option to catch-up with the rest of us in the evening. Which he luckily did.
So with that experience well behind us, we were not surprised this morning when Ken also on this occasion took a deep breath and dived into his spare-parts compartment, - and resurfaced with a replacement shock-absorber. Paul estimated the problem being so tedious that it was not worth him getting into his coverall, - a few bolts and bits decided to be stubborn and the fix did take a while.
An hour later the job was done and we were all then ready to go hunt for some additional adventure. With all the engagement we already have had with the Moroccan military, one would think that it would be the end of it; - but oh no no, not likely. Before we actually set of from camp this morning we observed loud noises and very tall dust-clouds not too far from our camp. There was no doubt in our minds that this was huge explosives going off, probably some artillery gun firing, and at lot of it, and it was frightening close to our position. With an iPhone compass and Paul's digital mapping software we soon clarified that the impact-zone was spot-on in the center of our planned heading.
We then back-tracked in an arc to meet up with the main-piste before heading south again. Cruising south on the piste we could observe a rather huge collection of military hard-ware and personnel placed on each side of the piste; and we where left with no other choice but to drive though the middle of the whole shebang, in order to follow the track. Very unexpectedly we were not stopped on one single occasion in this confinement of soldiers. My guess is that they already knew very well that we would be coming and exactly whom we were; but the others in the travel-party questioned my opinion; - we will never know. Maybe the military were simply taken by surprise, thinking no civilian would be here in the southern and desolated part of the Western Sahara.
In camp in yet another wadi we experienced some light local rainfall during dinner-time; and we could watch a heavy rain-storm pass us, not to far away, covering the sky with dark clouds. We all took shelter from the water-drops and made it an early night. The rain then intensified a lot during the evening and night.
http://gwagendays.com/explore/western-sahara-14-2014.asp?id=43