We were driving along all happy and chatting. Several of us were on a spot on the truck called the 'beach'. It is like a bed or viewing platform where there is no roof and we sit on top of the truck watching the world go by.
While we were gayly passing the time and taking in the landscape, we notice that george is trying to swing wide of some mud in the road. At this point we think nothing of it, but then the truck starts suddenly tilting; first ten degrees, then twenty, then thirty.
Everyone's eyes started popping out of their skull as the truck felt as if it were about to tip over and spill us out into the semi-desert.
I would say I took it all in my stride, but I'm sure you would understand if I said I made a small squeak like a five year old girl.
The truck was fully stuffed into the mud. We all had to dig it out and lay rocks and sandmats to try to get it out. This was unsuccessful. Fortunately there is a sort of desert code where all of the truck drivers help each other out. A passing 24-wheeler helped to give us a tow.
This was most generous of him, which we paid back by reversing into his truck after we were pulled free. No damage, well, to his truck anyway. Our ladder was all bent so as only to allow gymnasts to ascend the truck. We made our tow-angel very happy though with a payment of forty US dollars - a fortune for a Kenyan truck driver. He chuckled all the way back to his truck.
No comments:
Post a Comment