The question gets asked now "Can I change this part" and honestly I have no idea. When I did my buddy's XJ, we had to pull the axle out of the diff and that was a pain! We also dont have any grease or a slide hammer... We go over things and I'm corrected on a few things: The part is an entire hub, not just the wheel bearing. We wont need to take the axle out, just shove this on the end. (and so on).
Well, I mean what other choice do we have. We're going to try it! I will say though, that I'm not comfortable playing "lead mechanic" for a bunch of people I don't know. With the language barrier, and well the entire situation, I don't really feel like I have the freedom I do on my home turf to bodge the heck out of something just to make it "good enough". Are these guys going to get squeamish if I start looking for a log to wedge under this thing a-la Worlds Fastest Indian style?
But I digress because there's no time to be uncomfortable. We need to start figuring out how we're going to do this. Misha now reports that she has a tow-truck on the way, and that means we need to maximize people in the good cars, and minimize passengers in the bad one. Of course sending people to a Nouakchott hotel, we're favoring the girls going first. That's Katka and Linda. Linda's boyfriend will go with, and Lukas will stay here with most of the Bananas and myself. I think 5-guys stayed in total (Lukas, myself, and three Bananas. I don't yet know their names at this point).
I'm asked if I'm sure I want to stay and my response is "I'm here with all my tools and my truck. There's nothing I CAN'T do to help in this situation, so that must mean I'm exactly where I should be"
My answer is accepted, and the Slow-Vakian team vehicle is loaded up and sent down the highway.
Here we are again. Hours to kill...
With only the skeleton crew left behind, there's not much to do... I'm the proud first user of the poop bucket, and when I get back to camp I tell everyone "Whelp! I think I showed this place what I think about it!"
I've been lucky so far with bathroom visits. They always seemed to coordinate with hotel stays and that's been nice (I think a big part of this is the lack of food I'm eating. I'm a big eater despite my small frame, and I am definitely NOT getting enough food...). But the bucket idea worked WAY better than it had any right to (hoo-rah, Mensa Engineering!).
We also have a few visitors. The driver of a Caterpillar 950H stopped by and asked for some water. We gave him some.
You know how snowy places have snow drifts that need to be removed from the highway? Well Mauritania has sand drifts that need the same treatment. And that's what this guy was out doing when he spotted our lot.
Another trucker stopped by and he was driving a beefy old Mercedes tanker truck. He actually passed us by about 300-yards, and backed his butt up to visit. Again, just someone asking for water and we gave him some.
Another rallye must have been running through the country at the same time, because a stickered up vehicle that wasn't in the B2B stopped by. We were happy to report this time that we had help on the way.
Obviously it's getting late at this point, and I'm getting worried. You don't have to be the head accountant at the firm to realize that if it's taking 3 or more hours for the tow-truck to get here, then it's going to take at least that long for the return trip. And boy is that sun starting to get low...
Each day's sheet in the road book has the time the sun will set. It's 17:45 now, and we're just taking down our sun shelter (with the sun so low, it's really no longer needed). The race sheet says that big ball of fire will disappear behind the horizon in 1 hour...
oof.
We do get a little bored
I do get a call out on the satellite phone, but Mrs. Hungary and the boys are still in Czech Republic. I can't get a call through and need to let her know we're alright. It's been a couple days at this point.
I go through my emergency contacts list. These are people we're close to, and all have Mrs. Hungary's number. None of them pick up.
Not knowing what else to do, I get my cell phone out and start at the top with the "A's". I enter the numbers in the satphone one by one...
It's not surprising really. This day in age, if you don't recognize the number (and if you're not expecting the call), then you don't answer!
A's turn to B's, and B's eventually turn to the end of the list...
I do omit a few people as we have neighbors and whatnot that I wouldn't be able to communicate with as well as I'd need to (in Hungarian) but for the most part, I've just dialed 100% of my friends in the area and no one's picked up.
And then I get to the last one "Williams" (last name). Pete's an adventurer so I believe there's a chance he'll answer. And he does!!! I tell him it's me, and I'm calling from the sat phone. Can he get a message out over FB messenger to Mrs. Hungary to let her know I'm ok? We're staying with a team that broke in the desert and should be in Nouakchott tonight. We'll be back with the rallye in the next day or so.
He's happy to help, and we have a good (but brief) chat.
Eventually enough time passes and we spot a tow truck headed our way on the highway (it's pretty flat, we can see a good way off). It's a flat bed, and Misha is standing between the driver and passenger in the cab! She's waving at us and we all wave back!
As they get closer, we can see there's another man standing in the back (on the flat bed).
Ok, we're calming down now and plans are being made, and we're introduced to a man named "Alva" (the guy who's responsible for this tow, AND for finding us a room in Nouakchott tonight). This is how it's going to play out:
One of the Bananas is going to ride in the truck. The other 5 of us (Misha, Lukas, myself, and two of the Bananas) will ride in my Toyota. We're going to have to re-arrange cargo in my truck to fit the extra person, but we can do it.
But here's the catch: To maximize usable interior space, I took out the seat cushion for the driver's side passenger seat. Whoever is sitting there, is sitting on nothing but metal underneath as is the person sitting in the center position. In the event of a crash, I don't think either can really count on a seatbelt working the way it usually does to save them.
No time to think about that now though, we gotta cover as much ground as possible before darkness falls.
Honestly, this part is kind of a blur. As the sun starts to set we get to that time of evening where it's too bright for your headlights still, but the shadows are long enough to conceal a lot of crap, and this highway is ROUGH.
The sand is eating at the sides, which are chipping away, forcing you to the center line. Oncoming vehicles are usually GIGANTIC old Mercedes semi-trucks and they wait until they're almost on you to fire off their high beams and every last on of their spot lights.
The covers are off of my KC lights and we respond in kind. Again, I'm super happy about my decision to point the outboard lights to the side slightly as that left one blasts right into their cab.
I really cant explain why they do this and my only thought is that they're trying to blind you in an effort to push you out to your side some (to make room on the eroded road?). it sucks and it scares the hell out of me.
In addition to the gigantic semis trying to blind you, is the absolutely unpredictable road we're traveling on. We've gotta keep speed up or we're a rolling hazard. I've got my glasses on (I wear glasses at night to help see better. My vision isn't bad but I got in a fight once that permanently damaged my left eye. It's a little better than 20/70 vision and the glasses help with the glare) but still can't see clearly far enough ahead to feel safe. the road is pock marked, eaten away, and the pot holes will sometimes go on long enough for you to drop all four tires into it before bouncing back out.
It's full concentration and I don't remember anyone even attempting to have a conversation as we went through it. Aside from being sun-fried and exhausted already from today's events, just staying on the road is requiring every bit of concentration.
man... and then I got to thinking about that broken sway-bar bolt... If I need to yank the wheel, will the truck respond?
Full on darkness now and nothing's let up. I finally got a good pair of tail lights in front of me that I'm using to map the road ahead. When they bounce erratically, I slow down for the pot-holes. When they turn, I can judge the radius and adjust speed as necessary. It's some sort of cab-over pickup with a covered bed. Nothing big, and looks to be pretty much to be what I'm used to seeing in Europe (just much older, and in crappier condition). But more importantly, where did all these cars come from??? We didn't see but a handful of vehicles all day, but this traffic is non stop!
Bouncing though pot-holes, blinded by oncoming trucks, returning fire with the daylighters, slipping off the side of the road sometimes, watching those tail lights in front of us....
And then it happens.
We were on a straight stretch of road and I was closer than normal to the taillights but didn't think anything of it. I saw them wag side to side and they started getting closer really fast. My brain told me this could only mean that our lead vehicle has locked up his brakes and that means he might be coming to an abrupt and unexpected halt here very soon (I'm expecting a collision and want distance between us before that happens).
He's got the focus of my attention, and I am hard on my brake pedal. Even on the sand dusted road, I've got 4ea 265-series tires on the pavement, and some seriously good rubber from those BFG KO2's. I'm easily able to immediately reign in our speed and am dropping gears on the fly. Fifth into fourth, and I just drag those back wheels for a split second before jamming it down into third to REALLY put them to work. This happens in a split second and I can tell I'm JUST about to see the results of the effort (we've matched his rate of decel, and are on track to exceed it with only about half a car-length between us) when my eyes pick up on something from my left peripheral vision.
The image that flashes in my head is one of a ghost-grey full front of one of those Mercedes Semi-trucks painted on a complete black canvas. Neither headlight is working and it's pointed at our truck ta 45-degree angle. So close, it completely fills my passenger window and still has plenty of body to spare.
Its straight trajectory and rate of speed tells me it's going to hit us almost exactly on our driver's side door.
The world has now slowed itself to a crawl.
There's nothing to lose now, so with the front end already loaded by the emergency braking I keep the brakes on just hard enough to make sure our balance doesn't shift excessively aft. Both hands were already on the wheel after the last downshift, and I yell "SH*T" as they throw the wheel to the right. If my calculations are correct, this should point us off completely off the road at a pretty good angle.
The weight of the vehicle transfers on to that driver's side front tire, and I feel it plant itself firmly into the pavement. Sand coated pavement or not, the tire bites and the truck responds by diving right on top of it and we start shooting off in the intended direction. The cycle is almost complete, and my foot is nearly completely off the brake pedal (my mind is preparing for the counter steer that's going to come next) when...
It just ended.
The pavement, in one crisp sharp shelf, just ENDED!!!!
...and my intended maneuver wasn't anywhere near close to being done. I have no idea where that Mercedes is right now, and I've got no front wheels on the ground.
My mind is racing and time is still slow so I use this to my advantage and figure that if I stay pointed right then our back end may still be at risk of a collision. It's a long shot, but I think when those front wheels land that maybe I can present a smaller target by whipping the truck left and throwing the ass out of the way (thus becoming parallel to the oncomming hazard)
We hit the ground with the front left tire first, and it digs it's inboard edge into the gravelly sand underneath. The passenger tire hits immediately afterwards and is instantly loaded. Off the brakes now I'm hard on the gas, but the RPM's are low and we're well out of anything resembling a powerband. Still though, I gotta get this thing to MOVE. Throttle wide open, the truck responds and that back end whips right and (I'm assuming) out of the way of any potential collision. I'm able to correct back right as we hit the next shelf and are back on to the pavement, and time speeds back up.
"holy E36 M3, did you guys see that??? He was pointed right at us!!!" I yell.
(Excited-Man Slovakian is shouted in response)
"What, are you guys alright back there?"
(I'm getting patted on the back by one of the bananas, who now sounds happy and still very Slovakian)
"He says if you hadn't turned just then, we'd all be dead!" Misha shouts in response.
Crap. What the hell are we doing out here. This is insane...
We carry on to Nouakchott and traffic doesn't let up just because we survived the incident. Off of the adrenaline rush now, and back to being fully exhausted, we're still fighting off center hugging, spot light blinding, semi trucks and all the other hazards...
It wasn't a long time, or at least it didn't FEEL like a long time before road conditions started to improve. The pavement got smoother, we ended up with two lanes in either direction, the road was long and super straight, we were even coming up on street lights!!!
I was busy taking it all in, when I realized there was an unlit police check point RIGHT in front of us. Again hard on the brakes, and we got the truck reigned in for the stop. Obviously the officer had something to say about or performance.
"no warning, boss!" Lukas said from the passenger seat.
"No warning!" I parroted, handing him a stack of fiches (no idea whos fiches I handed him at this point. I just pinched a stack that looked like it might be 5 pieces and away we went).
He let us through and eventually we get to the hotel...
No hot water.
No towels.
The water here is brown...
A text comes in from the Banana that's still on the tow truck. He's riding center seat, and there's a guy still standing on the flat bed as they drive:
Banana to Tow truck driver: "I think your man out there fell off the truck two villages ago!"
Tow truck driver: "Not possible! If he did that, he'd be in Morocco!"
(This gets a good, but exhausted, laugh from all of us)
We have 3-beds for 8 people (I don't remember seeing Linda or Martin here, but it's Misha, our team, and all 4 Bananas)...
The beds are in three separate rooms that all face each other from a shared hall. In the last picture above, you can see our bags. One of the Bananas will make a bed in the hall, and will surround himself with these bags (security measure, maybe).
The part for the Disco and the tow truck arrives around 2300, and Bananas paid 550 euro to get it. Most importantly, we're all back together again. To celebrate, Katka had purchased children's champagne, bread, and lunch meat earlier in the day for dinner. We talk a bit about "Burning man" (I've never been, but some of the Bananas have), and on one or two occasions the entire crowd goes outside without me knowing they were going (back to that Slovakian language thing) to have a smoke while I sat by myself.
This is seriously getting annoying not knowing what's going on, and it's definitely not helped by me being overtired. I don't smoke, but someone could have told me the entire room was going to clear and I would have joined you instead of picking my nose in here all by myself...
Before crashing, I see that the oldest Banana is still using his phone. We don't have wifi here, and everyone else's phone seems to be dead so I ask Katka if he minds slinging a mobile hot spot so I can send a message to my wife.
He doesn't mind, but I immediately feel terrible as two-days worth of updates fly into my phone on whatevers left of his data. Facebook, messenger, whatsapp, the b2b group chat.... it all comes flying in and my phone is chiming and vibrating out of control while I try to type out a message to Mrs. Hungary.
"We made it to the hotel. We've got the part. We'll fix the truck in the morning. I love you. Goodnight"
With that done, we really need to get to sleep.
What was 3 beds and 8 people, is now 2-beds and 6 people since Misha and Lukas just called it a night (makes sense, they're a couple).
The rest of us decide how best to divvy things up. It'll be me and one of the Bananas tomorrow working on the truck tomorrow, so it's probably best that the two of us share a bed since we'll be waking up at the same time (we settle for 7am). Katka initially doesn't want to sleep on that couch in that last picture (it's the only one in any of the rooms) as it's pretty damn dirty, but she says she doesn't mind taking one for the team since she's the odd man (er... woman?) out. That leaves 2 bananas for the other bed, and one who will sleep in the hallway.
We're about to call it a night when Katka tries to go in the bathroom to take a shower before she crashes. Someone's closed the bathroom door and it's locked...
seriously... I feel like if we caught half a break at this point then we could give the rest away.
Luckily it takes me 2-seconds to open the door with my Swiss army knife, but my Bed-Banana and I decide we oughta call it a night before anything else happens.
Alarm is set, and the lights go out.