De Dakar organisatie is ieder jaar in oktober bezig met het verkennen en maken van de route, hieronder het verslag van de voorhoede. Zo weet je ongeveer wat de broertjes te wachten staat...
1 The terrain, on paper
The route has been devised, drawn and pinpointed. It is now time to examine and to set out precisely in the roadbook the route which the rally’s co-pilots and pilots will use in January. This meticulous work is carried out every year in October by a team of desert, and, in particular, endurance rally specialists. A total of four cars (one of which is for the support route), a truck and a motorcycle are needed for reconnaissance.
The group comprises ten people. One opening car, with Francois and David, is responsible for finding through routes and testing the trails. One or two kilometres behind, it is in the second car, with Claude behind the wheel and Jacky with pen in hand, that all the necessary information is copied down. As for Pierre, Patrick and Georges, they look after supplies from the lorry, while Stéphane and Paul take care of reconnaissance of the support route. Depending on needs, Etienne, the Dakar boss, invites himself along in one of the two leading cars.
The group is in constant contact with one another by walkie-talkie in order to be able to warn of any eventual dangers or small technical incidents. On average, every stage requires two days of fieldwork. It’s off for one month of adventure.
2 Equipment review
Reconnaissance has already been under way for several months before taking to the road. When leaving to spend one month in the desert, it is best to have thought of everything. This is the work of Stéphane, who, along with his team of mechanics, is in charge of preparing the vehicles in the A.S.O. garage. The two cars, Toyota 105s, which “trace” the course for the race, could easily be mistaken for the type “T1” which takes part in the rally, apart from one small addition, GPS. The software used by Jacky is a real-life assistant for writing the roadbook, and saves the coordinates of every point entered, calculates distances and traces the route. The 4WD in charge of pinpointing the support route, a Toyota 78, which drives, almost exclusively, on tarmac, is not of quite such high performance, but it makes it possible to carry slightly more equipment. Stéphane and Paul will stop “in town” more often, but are also planning on camping from time to time and, therefore, they have taken what they need to get by on their own: a trunk of food, a tent, sleeping bags and spare wheels…
The biggest piece of work is preparing the Renault lorry which carries all the equipment for the “racing” team. Thanks to a few well-thought out innovations, the vehicle’s total weight has been reduced to 19.5 tons, compared to 21 tons last year. The interior is sumptuous. For mechanical problems, there are spare parts for the cars and the truck, as well as everything required for welding and carrying out all the main types of repairs imaginable. For daily life, the companions have a generator, as well as a 200 litre fridge, camping equipment and food and water supplies for a minimum of four days. Finally, there is just enough room to squeeze in a few bottles of wine, to be enjoyed in moderation of course. And, the group’s participant from Bearn has not forgotten to add two or three blocks of foie gras.
3 Lusitanian surprises
Who would have thought it by looking at the maps of the route for the Portuguese stages that we would have to get out the spades and sand plates before leaving Europe… Not us in any case. Yet… We had been driving for only a few hours, concentrated and happy at long last, to get down to designing the roadbook, when suddenly, as we were crossing a small dune, which did not look anything special, we found ourselves stuck deep in the sand, just as in the furthest flung reaches of Mauritania. The encounter did not cost us more than twenty minutes, but the message was clear: Watch out for the first few kilometres in Portugal, they may surprise more than one.
After a few hours in the middle of sand, which makes us think that we had already crossed the Mediterranean, the landscape gradually changes. The sand becomes more dense, the track easier to drive… And, above all, the sound of the engine changes…You just have to look at the smiles on the team’s faces to know that, at the start of January, WRC enthusiasts will be able to abandon themselves to the pleasure of quick gear changes and skidding. But, they will have to be careful not to lose time in a stage which will certainly be more difficult than we had thought. Because, as the old Dakar proverb says: “He who wishes to see the Pink Lake should ensure that he still has reserves from which to take”.
4 Moroccan conundrum
It is quite simple, everything has to be rethought… Arriving in Morocco, we thought that we had our marks and would find the routes on the map easily. Not at all. Between the portions of road which have been freshly laid, those in the process of being laid and those waiting to be laid, nothing we find looks anything like we expected. Therefore, instead of groping our way around and running the risk of finding ourselves in a dead end, we get out our maps, call the local authorities, drink some tea and think, drink some more tea and think again about how to solve the Moroccan conundrum posed by this maze of roads undergoing work.
Finally, after a day of thinking, hesitating and more thinking, we lay out the first Moroccan stage on paper. Although there are undoubtedly more surprises in store, it looks as if what we have dreamed up will be of a relatively high standard. But, it is late. The sun has not yet set, but it is no longer wise to venture blindly along paths which we have never crossed before. We set up camp and go to bed before nightfall. As the old Dakar proverb says: “If it is to Dakar that your road is led, make sure you are early to bed”.
5 All in the nose
Yesterday has left its marks. The time spent thinking around a glass of tea has given some a headache. It promises to be a long journey. Especially since we do not know where we are going, having completely abandoned our initial ideas. The first kilometres pass by without any difficulties, thanks to the precise information supplied to us by the local authorities and the well tuned “nose” of David in the opening car. After a few hours, we have covered most of the stage, passing between tracks to find our way through the rocky landscapes of northern Morocco.
But, at the end of the day, things start to get complicated. The track we have been following disappears and gets lost in a rocky field. We have to stop, search, set off, stop again a little further on to find our way out of the maze of cairns and reach the end of this first Moroccan stage. It has been a hard and trying day. Nevertheless, once again, despite the fatigue and the hours spent searching for the route, it has all been worth it. At the camp this evening the team is all smiles. This stage will be beautiful and demanding, with a clever combination of driving and navigation. In the purest Dakar tradition.
6 Negotiations
We knew that it had rained, that it had rained a lot, that the tracks might be cut off by debris or carried away by landslides. But, we did not expect this. From the first few kilometres, our progress is slowed down by the damage caused by the torrential rain in September. Slabs of rock block the road. Long detours are required to find our route. And when, by chance, we find our route, it disappears suddenly, lost under the rivers of mud which covered the region at the end of summer. Yesterday’s smiles have disappeared and we are overcome by questions. Nevertheless, David, who has set off on motorbike several times to scout, finds a way out, allowing us to continue our route without losing too much time. But, much more than lost time, it is the roadbook which worries us. How can we calculate today what the state of the trail is going to be tomorrow and how can we know which dangers and difficulties need to be mentioned? Dark looks are exchanged around the cars which have stopped at the crest of a rise.
Finally, Etienne takes his telephone and calls the local authorities to find out precisely which work will be carried out before the rally. As the minutes tick by he starts to look more relaxed. He has been promised that work will be carried out and that it will be possible to use the tracks again before the winter. We can take to the road again feeling only partially reassured, because we will have to return at a later date to ensure that work is progressing.
The day continues, studious and determined. But, we do not reach the end before nightfall. As the sun goes down, the team sets up a new camp. Tomorrow is going to be a long day if we want to make up for the time we have lost.
7 Meeting
The sun has not yet risen and already the engines are purring. We gulp down a coffee before hitting the road… heading southwards, where the mountains gradually make room for the wider horizons of the desert.
Over there, in the middle of nowhere, our military escort is waiting for us. They will accompany us through this sometimes still-unstable region. But, we have fallen behind schedule and when we arrive at the bridge where we are supposed to meet, the soldiers are not there. No doubt, not seeing us arrive, they have gone to look for us. We, too, try to find their tracks, but in such a labyrinth of stone, where all the hills look alike, we get the feeling that we are going round in circles… At last, in the middle of the afternoon, we catch sight of our escort. Peacefully set up on the crest of a hill, they have been waiting for us since this morning, barely a few kilometres from where we thought we were supposed to meet them. After quick introductions, we decide not to waste any more time and to take advantage of the last hours of daylight to continue on our journey southwards. The rest of the day passes quietly, counting off the kilometres as they fly by. At last, we manage to make up some of our lost time.
We set up camp at nightfall. Pierre, Patrick and Georges put up the tents while David, Etienne and Jacky take a last look at today’s notes. The soldiers have prepared some tea which they share with us by the fireside. Language barriers dissolve, faces light up with friendly smiles… This is a bivouac with the atmosphere of Dakar, in the heart of the desert...
8 First heat
Following an evening with a “local flavour” in the middle of the desert, and after a good night’s sleep, we make an early start to take advantage of the few hours of cooler temperatures. It is 5.00 am when the engines start and we gobble up the first few pre-dawn kilometres. Aboard the vehicles, the noise of the engine gradually wakes up the crews in a strangely quilted atmosphere. But, as soon as the first rays of sunlight start to make themselves felt, the interior very quickly turns into an oven. At 11.00 am, it is over 45° when we encounter our first ridge of dunes.
Fortunately, despite the heat, the sand is not too light. We cover about forty kilometres without any problems, before finally finding ourselves stuck. A quarter of an hour later, after much digging and manoeuvring of sand plates, we succeed in getting the lorry out, under the amused eyes of the soldiers accompanying us aboard an antique pick-up truck. The atmosphere is relaxed and when we set off again, laughter can be heard along with the sound of the purring engines.
A few kilometres further on, we meet a second military patrol. They will replace the first one which has escorted us to this point. Introductions are made quickly and we set off again, now supervised by a new pick-up truck which has a strange and heavy load. In the back, among all the campaign equipment, three goats bleat and nod gently to the rhythm of the swaying truck. Tonight, the barbecue promises to be good...
9 See you soon
Today, once again, it is still dark when we climb into our vehicles. After yesterday’s heat, we want to take advantage of the relatively cool dawn temperatures… But, although it is barely 5.00 am, it is already almost 30°. We must leave, regardless. After two hours of trouble-free driving we arrive at the Wall. We stop to bid farewell to our military escort. They will not be going any further. Warm and frank handshakes are exchanged. The evening spent together around the barbecue has forged ties between us. We promise not to forget one another and to see each other again next January, at the camp perhaps... Finally, we climb back into our cars. The barrier rises up above us and we cross the Wall. We head southwards towards the depths of the Mauritanian desert.
Yesterday, we progressed without any problems, swallowing up the kilometres and sand dunes without losing any time in spite of getting stuck a few times. But, as we enter Mauritania, our world changes. The much finer sand gives way below our wheels. We have to move forwards with care and patience in order not to get stuck in the sand. Fortunately, old habits come back to us quickly. Behind the wheel of the two cars, Claude and François quickly find the right pace and weave their way through the dunes without losing any time. But, this is an unusual part of the route and it is not just a question of driving skills. Above all, it is necessary to know where to go and how to get there. And, that is something we are not quite sure about. Since, in terms of navigation, it is best to avoid venturing out blindly, we send David off to act as a scout. Etienne signals us to stop and we take the motorcycle out of the truck… David kicks it into life and is very soon far away. At ease, he drives through the middle of the waves of sand, appearing and disappearing over the dunes. 30 minutes later, he returns with a smile on his face: “No problems, I have found a passage...” We set off again, heading for our next stopover.
10 The cliff road
Yesterday, we were able to make up the lost time. We are now on time and ready to take on the difficult stretch of our journey. Today’s programme promises to be a full one as the objective is to cover a completely new special stage. Once again therefore, the camp is roused even before the first rays of morning sun. In the distance, the mountain ridges are hardly visible as we cross the first dunes of the day.
After a few hours on the road, the landscape begins to change. The dunes give way to cliffs and the sand becomes rock. We are forced to thread our way through the rocks, following David’s trail who has had to take to his bike to find a clear path. We’re driving around in circles, but the scenery is superb. The ochre earth opens onto a clean blue sky as we emerge onto a rocky plateau. At the other end, the route drops down deep into a gorge. There are more and more technical sections. We have to be more careful now to get through these last few tricky sections without any problems.
Gradually, it gets darker. We have to stop to avoid taking unnecessary risks. Even though we haven’t finished the special stage course, we’re happy. The routes that we have found promise a really good stage on the day when the rally comes through.
In the tent tonight, the faces seem relaxed. The méchoui (barbecue) organised in the middle of nowhere refuels the batteries. Around 10pm, the whole team is asleep. Because tomorrow will be another long day.
11 A spanner in the works
We still have a lot of distance to cover before we reach the end of the route that we began yesterday. Before setting off, we take a last look at the maps. Our expressions tell the story: things are likely to get even more difficult today. What with the cliffs, the gruelling tracks and the vast expanses of sand that we should reach towards late afternoon, we are in for a long day.
A quick gulp of coffee by the light of our headlamps and a last tug on the straps to secure our supplies, and we’re off. Despite the skills of Claude and François behind the wheel, we are tossed around like puppets. The cars jolt over each rut and boulder that our drivers can’t avoid. We make slow progress. Then after about fifty kilometres, the truck gets a puncture, and one of the car radiators gives up the ghost, pierced by a flying stone. We stop to carry out the necessary repairs. While Patrick, Pierre and Georges get to work with the toolbox, Etienne and David take stock of how far we have got during the day. They look pleased; we must have got further than we thought. In spite of the slight mechanical hitch, we should manage to finish the leg before nightfall.
Once truck and car are roadworthy again, we leave the rutted tracks behind us and plunge into the heart of the desert. Dunes stretch as far as the eye can see. Despite the scorching heat, we reach the bivouac without getting stuck in the sand. A new military escort is waiting for us. They will be with us for the next few days. New faces, new stories. The warmth of the bivouac and supper roasting over the fire loosen our tongues as we all settle down to what promises to be another interesting evening.
12 I’ve stared death in the face three times
And suddenly, the deluge. We are woken at 2 in the morning by the rumbling of thunder and the sound of torrential rain slating down on the bivouac. We all tumble out of our sleeping bags in panic. A few feet from the tents, the wadi that was bone dry just a few hours before is now swimming in mud. The water level is rising fast. In a few minutes we have packed up and loaded all our supplies into the truck and set off in search of a safe place to spend what’s left of the night. Twenty minutes later, we set up a makeshift camp on the highest point of a small slope and we fall back into our sleeping bags with relief. These days every minute of sleep counts and despite this unwelcome disturbance, the priority is to get some rest.
When the alarm goes off at 5 a.m., it is already so hot that we can hardly recall the early morning rainstorm. It has been a hard night. After the downfall, the intense heat made it difficult to sleep. All the same we have to head south, and fast. Once again a long day awaits us. In the half light of dawn there is a certain apprehension in our eyes as we scan the sand spreading out in all directions before us. None of us has ever crossed this stretch of the Mauritanian desert. Except, that is, for one of the soldiers in our escort who chooses his moment to mutter: "You’re crazy to come this way. In these parts I’ve stared death in the face three times... "
13 A question of balance
You need to know one thing: the Mauritanian soldier is often right when he speaks about the desert. Yesterday was terrible. We spent hours going around in circles, in the burning heat, in the middle of a sand and stone maze. And, after much doubt and endless wandering, a passage to salvation and an extraordinary camp was found.
Today, as we prepare to leave, we think about the difficulties awaiting us, which the competitors will have to surmount. With furrowed brows and concentrated looks, we set off. As soon as we start, things become even more difficult. The tracks we are following wind their way along the cliff faces, before losing themselves in the middle of the dunes. We advance very slowly, because the slightest mistake could have some serious consequences. Things are such that we decide to turn back, to look for a new, more balanced route, better suited to the philosophy of the 2007 race: Technical tracks, arduous passages, but, above all, variety, allowing each person to have fun and express themselves under conditions which they enjoy.
In order to cross a slightly difficult passage, the teams get out of their vehicles, some of them guiding the others by means of voice and hand signals. As he is walking backwards, Pierre trips over a stone and cuts his elbow as he falls. The injury is minor, but deep enough to need a few stitches. Etienne gets out his first-aid kit and his satellite telephone and calls the doctor in Paris. Using the instructions he is given, he sews up the wound. After the last stitch, we decide to set up camp. It has been a long and exacting day and each one of us deserves some rest. We put up our tents. Once again the landscape is breathtaking. It promises to be a beautiful night.
14 Tomb or treasure
A hot coffee, a few rays of sunlight which gently colour the mountain… This morning, we grant ourselves some respite in order to spare our bodies before taking to the road again. It may be hard to believe, but all the kilometres we have accumulated over the past two weeks have left their mark on our exhausted bodies. Backache, burns, cuts… the list of minor injuries is growing longer. It is true that there is nothing worrying, but the road to Dakar is still long, so there is no point in overdoing it.
Once we have pulled ourselves together and feel properly awake, we set off on a new track which winds its way down the hillsides to a stream. We follow the stream for a few kilometres before losing it in the sand and rocks. Along the waterside, a few antelope and a fennec were drinking. Although we slow down in order not to frighten them, the sound of the engines takes them by surprise and they run away towards the hills.
We continue our route without encountering any particular difficulties until we reach an expanse of sand and stone which looks as though it stretches as far as the other side of the world. The horizon shimmers with the heat. We stop to look at our maps. No way of escaping these few kilometres of deepest desert… We are preparing to set off when David notices a stone set in the ground. The few sentences engraved on it leave us with no doubts as to the day’s programme: “Abandon all hope, you who enter here” (Alighieri) and also “It depends on those who pass, whether I am tomb or treasure, whether I speak or am silent” (Paul Valéry)… We have chosen.
15 Things will be better tomorrow
We have made our choice. We were waiting for Paul Valéry to speak to us and share with us the famous treasure referred to on the stone. But, since this morning, although we have been listening very hard… nothing. Not a single sound. Nothing but the silence which leaves us prey to serious doubts. Which direction to follow? In this land where the rally has almost never left its tyre marks, we hesitate before venturing out. David and Etienne turn their maps in all possible directions, consult Claude and François about the possibility of taking this or that course, this or that dune ridge, without risking breakages or getting stuck in the sand.
Fortunately, it is not as hot as the previous days, which helps our progress. But, we have difficulty making up the time we have lost. Everything is timed. We barely stop for lunch, every petrol stop is timed with the same precision as in a F1 race. Little by little, we manage to win back a few minutes. Until we break two shock absorbers and a brake hose on one of the 4WD. Despite Pierre and Patrick’s efforts to repair them as quickly as possible, yet more hours slip through our fingers. Morale is low, but we continue on our way, as best we can, until the last ray of sunlight has disappeared.
At nightfall, we set up camp. Tents, tables… but we had not planned on the clouds of insects which savagely attack our meal. This evening will be a fast. It is supposed to be good for the figure… not so good for the morale however.
16 Separation
We had hoped that things would go better today. But, this has not been the case. We have been going around in circles since this morning, without understanding why, and without being able to find our route. We did read our preparatory notes properly before setting off and we did not forget to include the slightest detail we noticed on the maps. It has to be said that nothing looks like we though it would. Southeast of the plateau, we thought we would find a track leading into the desert and its long stretches of sand. Instead of that, we find ourselves up against a completely impenetrable rocky outcrop, several metres high.
Driving along the south-eastern side of the plateau, we eventually find a passage, a sort of bottleneck, which is not quite so steep. Claude and François set off carefully in their 4WD. They make it through, but only just. However, Pierre, at the wheel of his truck, is feeling slightly sceptical. Nevertheless, he decides to take his chances. He is moving forward slowly when, suddenly, a rock is uncovered by the truck’s weight. The truck skids for almost one metre before coming to a halt. When Pierre climbs down, we can tell from his look that he is worried. He takes a preliminary look below the cab. The verdict is immediate. The front right half axle is gone, a clean break on a rock which was much larger than the others. We use the 4WD to pull the truck off the stone so that it is not left sitting balanced on the rock. After ensuring that Pierre, Patrick and Georges are equipped to make repairs without requiring external assistance, we set off again with the 4WD. We would have preferred to wait until the truck was repaired and continue together. But time is short and we cannot let ourselves fall even further behind schedule.
The end of the day arrives without any particular incident. As we are setting up camp, we think about the truck team we have left behind. We call them by satellite telephone. The news is good. They are ready to leave and will take the support route in order to meet us in a few days time. In the meantime, we camp on our own, accompanied by the light of the fire we have lit to chase away the insects. In short, another ordinary day.
We have been completely self-sufficient for the past two days. We left the damaged truck behind us in order to head off into the heart of the desert, entirely off-piste. The atmosphere is loaded: getting stuck in the sand, high temperatures, getting stuck in the sand again, navigation, searching for routes… Initially, this small expedition into the middle of nowhere should have lasted one day. But, once again, unforeseen circumstances have caught up with us and have forced us to extend the outing. We are therefore obliged to ration our water and food: two litres of water per person per day instead of seven, a few cereal bars… Not an awful lot to sustain the morale of the troops. The atmosphere is sometimes heavy, full of questions about our situation. Because, to be completely honest, we have no idea how long this little joke is going to last. Fortunately, this evening, we found a tin of Béarn sausage in the bottom of a shoe. David, our very own wild boar from Béarn, starts to moan and we have to prevent him from swallowing the whole sausage… However, this find acts as a soothing balm for our flagging spirits.
After another night spent sleeping under the stars, we set off again, firmly decided to meet up with the truck this evening. The news we have received is good. They have managed to make the repairs and have been able to reach the meeting point we had agreed upon. This is a boost for us and we make fast progress. In the evening, we meet up with Pierre, Patrick and Georges who, along with the truck, are waiting for us at the inn. At last, we can enjoy a real shower and a little rest before continuing, tomorrow, with the second half of our expedition.
This night’s sleep has done us a great deal of good. Although Etienne is leaving us this morning for Paris, we set off refreshed to complete the second half of our journey. The day passes without the slightest hitch. We gobble up the road at great speed, occasionally escorted by local drivers behind the wheels of some strange vehicles, all outrageously overloaded in true African fashion: piles of fabric, fruit and thousands of other indescribable objects, on top of which are perched dozens of joyful people. Despite their more than uncertain shock absorbers, the drivers of these funny pick-ups obstinately refuse to let themselves be overtaken. It is almost a question of honour to stay ahead of us. It is true that our 4WD are more powerful, but the dexterity of our day’s “competitors” over this succession of tracks and dunes never ceases to amaze us.
At last, we take our leave of each other, in a hail of horns and laughter, and continue on our way. The kilometres rush by and, this evening, as we are setting up camp, we realise that we have covered more than 300 kilometres in one day. It is a record for this year. The small and friendly sparring with the other drivers provides food for discussion and the jokes start to fly. Claude and François, who had such difficulty shaking off their competitors, accept the mockery with good grace. The atmosphere is relaxed. Things look promising for the next part of the trip.
At last, we set down our bags at a hotel to recover before tackling the last stretch of road. Fortunately, the day has not been too physically demanding. However, we all feel that our brains have suffered as a result of trying to solve the problems which the itinerary has posed us. Today, the object of our thoughts was security for the local population and the particularly arduous exercise: How to get to the airport without going through the city centre when all the roads converge there…? The result, lots of brainstorming and many hours spent searching for “back roads”.
After many detours, we found what we were looking for. Maybe it is frustrating to spend an entire day in this way, but it is vital for all the team to design a route which combines the maximum safety guarantees. This is why, since the start of our reconnaissance expedition, and today in particular, we have done our utmost to avoid villages. For example, for today’s stage, our map work had us crossing six villages. Thanks to reconnaissance work in the field, we have been able to prevent the rally passing through four of them.
So, tomorrow, perhaps we will lose even more time on our initial schedule, but this type of delay is never time wasted.
“Fire, fire!” We can shout as much as we want, nobody hears us. And while we are shouting, the car starts to burn. It is true that it is nothing like a good Bonfire Night blaze or the Toros de Fuego so loved by David, our resident representative of Béarn, but it is a strange feeling having your rear-end on fire… Now that I think about it, it is not all that surprising really. So what happened: As the vehicles pass by, dry grass is lifted up and gets caught in the engine, around the radiator and in the exhaust system. The heat from the engine and the outside temperature of 50°C makes it all white hot. A highly flammable mixture as you can imagine, despite our many stops to clean the cars.
However, we got more of a fright than anything else. We easily doused the few flames which were licking the underbelly of the 4WD before they were able to cause any real damage. But, despite this, the fire has damaged the trip system which we use to measure distances. We must repair it, because none of the counters is working. And, without any counters, we will not be able to obtain reliable measurements of distance, and without reliable measurements of distance, we will not have a reliable roadbook… In short, it is a vicious circle.
By night fall, the problem has still not been resolved, but things appear to be on the right track. Consequently, as some of us are making repairs, others take advantage of a moment of relaxation. Sometimes, the world is just not fair.
It is hell. Indescribable. At the end of the day, we turn on the computer to enter the data for the day. And, that is when a swarm of insects – thousands of them, maybe even millions – attack us, attracted by the light and the colours on the screen. They are everywhere, all over the keyboard, they cover every single square centimetre on the screen, they get in our noses, our ears and our mouths. After a twenty-minute fight, we surrender. It is impossible to work, or to write even the shortest line in these conditions. We switch off all the lights. This evening, we will be hitting the hay early, as long as the insects leave us alone. Night-night.
It is the hunt for space, the African brainteaser to prevent the race from having to pass through villages. After several hours spent looking for the best route, we find ourselves up against a village which is impossible to detour. On each side, the track loses itself in an inextricable and completely impassable mess. Consequently, we have to turn back and reinvent the 160 kilometres of special stage which we had devised this morning.
Because of this slight “setback”, we are only able to identify 70 kilometres of route. Tomorrow we are going to have to make up for this lost time, but, for now, our priority is to recover. Ever since we entered the “malaria zone”, the side-effects of our treatment have greatly increased our fatigue and stress.
Fortunately, tomorrow’s prospect of a good night’s sleep at a hotel and a real shower gives the team the required enthusiasm to inject life into this our umpteenth camp. To be honest, the kilometres we have travelled are really starting to take their toll.
We are in the heart of Sub-Saharan Africa, in the middle of a network of tracks which criss-cross and intertwine. Since this morning, we have been feeling our way, looking for the best route. As we near a village, the sound of our vehicles attracts a large group of children, soon followed by their slightly concerned mothers. After introducing ourselves, they take us to their village where we meet their chief. Fortunately, he speaks French. We explain our problem to him: to find a route which is passable by all the rally’s competitors without the risks involved of having to pass through the village. After much discussion, a solution is found and we agree on a route. Before taking our leave, we raise the issue of safety resulting from the rally’s passage and take the name of one of the village’s leaders, in the same way as we do at all the other villages through which we pass. He will be our contact person when it is time to set up the safety operations we have planned.
This time everything works out as we had planned. We continue on our way therefore, feeling reassured by this exchange. But the further we head into the bush, the fewer people we find who can speak French. Nevertheless, we are welcomed very warmly. This evening we are received in the hut of a village chief who does not understand the slightest word we say. He is helped by a translator. He offers us food, milk and water, which we cannot accept without running the risk of falling seriously ill. Thanks to the translator, he understands our problem and is not offended. After speaking with him for a short while, we continue on our way, guided by a group of enthusiastic children who show us the track which will allow us to bypass the village.
At the end of the day, we arrive at the hotel about which we dreamt yesterday evening. We will spend a pleasant and comfortable night here before setting off on the last stretch of road to Dakar.
The last stage before arriving in Dakar. Since this morning, we have going around in circles, in the middle of a maze of tracks which continually cross and re-cross each other. It has to be said that the directions given by the people we meet provide us with precious help for finding our way. The competitors will have to pay close attention to the many changes in direction in order not to lose the minutes they have earned so carefully during the long route. After more than 10 hours of driving, we decide to stop. Darkness falls before we have finished setting up our camp.
This is our last camp, our last evening around the fire. Although everybody will be pleased to get home after a month travelling in the desert and the bush, we feel a little something, almost nostalgia, now that it is time to go our separate ways. So, we get out the foie gras, the Jurançon wine and the duck confit that we had hidden away at the bottom of a trunk, and celebrate this last night under the stars.
Unfortunately, the moon is hidden by the clouds and the night ends with us in the cars, sheltering from the torrential rain. After several hours spent trying to get to sleep on the back seats of our 4WD, we manage to doze for a few hours. No doubt, tomorrow, the hotel will provide some relief for our exhausted bodies.
This is the end of our adventure, the end of the road. The 2007 Dakar is ready. After nearly a month of reconnaissance across Morocco, Mauritania, Mali and Senegal, we have gathered all the elements we need to prepare the road-book. When we get to the beach in Dakar, the team members are smiling and proud of what they have just achieved, in spite of sheer exhaustion and the nightmare struggles encountered over the 12,000 km adventure. And also because we have completed our very own Dakar.
Before setting off for Paris, we put the finishing touches to the details for the last stage, a sort of surprise which the organisers have secretly kept for this year’s competitors who make it to Lac Rose.
This evening, we get back to our hotel for some peace, rest and civilisation. To celebrate, we enjoy a good meal by the waterside, with lobster and plenty of good humour, to ensure an excellent conclusion to this incredible African adventure. Because above all, it is this meeting with Africa which brings us here. It is a need, every year, to feel this continent move to its wild rhythm.
This is why, despite our satisfaction at finally having completed the reconnaissance, we have only one thing in mind: do it again, ASAP. May January come swiftly.
The finish at Lac Rose, Dakar, Senegal