would meet up with Graeme to enjoy a barbecued meal . Lucky buggers . It no doubt tasted better than the sand sprayed at my face from Scooter ’ s rear wheel .
Finally finding reception at the top of a dune a text message came through from Clint , one of the tour group guests .
The message explained that Dickie was on his way back to find us . I tried to message back , but it wouldn ’ t send .
Just a little later we almost had a head on collision with the returning Dickie and although great to see him the quick movement to avoid the collision created a small issue in the soft sand with Scooters rear tyre squirming too far to the right grabbing at the tow rope , ripping it apart .
Dickie had returned with a new tow rope and additional fuel , with a laugh he reassured us we were ‘ nearly there ’. He also said we only had one more big dune , which was repeated three times .
“ Where did that water go ?”, I thought as my Camelbak ran dry at around 3pm . Of course , pushing a 110-kilogram bike up fifteen sand dunes is thirsty work .
Scooter graciously handed me his water . ‘ Covid be stuffed ’, I thought . I wasn ’ t going to die from dehydration out here in the desert .
Scooter continued towing me as Dickie rode behind , the largest of the dunes were well behind us , but now we had reached that part of the border track that has a lot for clay areas and has become a playground for 4x4 vehicles . We now needed to strategically pick our lines well in advance , Scooter had developed a hand system to tell me before a fork in the road that he planned to go either left or right . This had proved very efficient and now we were about to test how well it would work
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