The Race

Some friends of ours hosted a motorcross race on the outskirts of town on Sunday, so we took the opportunity to camp out the night before. I know what you’re probably thinking, Camping in Africa? How brave! How grand! Settle down. You should know that: a) we were camping in our friends’ backyard (but said friends are a Danish couple of outdoorsmen, so that makes it remotely exotic, right?), and b) we were a little ill-equipped.

One of our tents lacked poles. The archaic contraption had apparently outgrown its poles, and preferred to attach itself to trees for night slumbers. This proved more difficult that we had hoped. No trees offered to help, but the Russells did. The Russells are a generous family from California (generous Americans you say? yes, it’s true), who, after seeing us struggle with the spineless tent, offered to let us join them in their own roommie tents (fully equipped with poles).

We woke to a West Coast morning: overcast rainy drizzle. No matter. We brightened the day with hot chocolate and French toast (cooked on a borrowed Russell-stove). The weather warmed as the day went on, and a sizable crowd gathered for the races. We were recruited to be timers, allowing me front-row seats for the odd high contrast b&w photo (Bluefire Police). Our mini-vacation was complete with a small feast from Khan’s BBQ: the best carnivorous food in town.


4 Responses

  1. I’ve heard many stories about camping in Africa and they always seem to be an adventure in some way. By the way, I don’t appreciate how shocked you are by American generosity.

  2. silly joel… american’s are some of the most generous people on this earth! you can show up unannounced and they will make you an amazing dinner (without even thinking twice), set up a bed for you and pack you lunches for your trip the next day… all things even i wouldn’t do! i think you need to travel the US more, sir. you will be transformed. 🙂

  3. Silly Americans. Don’t you know me? Don’t you know sarcasm when you see it?

  4. I know sarcasm when I see it. It usually knocks on my door with a canvas bag filled with notebooks slung over its shoulders. Since the extinction of writing night, I haven’t seen sarcasm around much. Starting to miss him.
    ok, started to miss him quite a while ago actually. 🙂

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