CROISSANTS AND COFFEE 4/22/08

After two hours of climbing, our caravan takes a break at the base of a rather nasty-looking rock formation. It’s called the “Waterfall”. It’s a series of slick-rock shelves linked together, one after the other, like some intimidating sandstone ladder.

I share a cup of coffee with Ken. I learn that, after his military service, he took part in the Land Rover sponsored Camel Trophy, the last event of its kind. He beat out 16 other teams to finish 2nd in the world, crossing 2,500 miles of jungle terrain in Borneo. Ken isn’t the kind of guy to take second. He’s preparing for a new trip across the North and South American continents. He’s the kind of figure you’d want with you on any expedition. He commands confidence.

After croissants and hot coffee, we ride up the “Waterfall”. From the front seat of the LR3, you can see only the steep rock face lifting in front of you—and blue sky as the approach angles upwards. Theres’s an element of trust in place here. Without seeing exactly what’s moving under our vehicles, you put your trust in the engineering. You put some faith in the machine. It’s nerve-racking at moments. Thrilling at all times.

After making it up the “Waterfall”, I step out to view the shelves we just mastered. It’s astounding that a vehicle can drive such a thing. I quickly find out that it’s not always so easy. A group of Jeeps arrives below us. They have trouble making the approach. I hear the drivers shouting and cursing. Which is unfortunate. In the absence of technique (or technology—whatever it was that the Jeeps were missing), the enjoyment of the landscape vanished.