Road rescues on roads less traveled - Tanzania

There is one thing that makes an adventure memorable - the obstacles you overcome. After all, if everything went perfectly, there would be no stories to tell.

In the fall of 2020, Jamieson, myself, and our guide Peter (Everlasting Tanzania) were driving a dark green Land Cruiser along the dirt backroads connecting Arusha and Lake Natron. The landscape around us comprised of tall dry grasses dotted with green shrubs. It had been about an hour since we encountered our first wildlife, a male gerenuk, and now were treated to first looks of Ol Doinyo Lengai - an active volcano jutting out from the plains. The sand was becoming thicker with each mile and was now deep silt. Motorcyclists bobbed and weaved through, kicking up large swaths of dust into the air, feet dangling off to the sides ready to catch themselves if they tipped.

Just ahead we saw a tan Toyota stuck with silt half way up its wheels. The tires were spinning, sending sand airborne as the wheels continued to sink. We stopped and all three hopped out to help. Minus the motorcyclists, we hadn't seen another car in quite awhile. For all we knew, we would be the only car for miles.

We met with driver, who turned out to be a veterinarian at a nearby giraffe sanctuary. He was now in the process of removing heavy bags of dried food in hopes of lightening the load. We each grabbed bags to help quicken the work. Next, the plan was to connect the winch of the tan Toyota to ours so it could pull itself out.

Thankfully the plan worked like a charm, and the tan Toyota was free to move once more. Dust covered and feeling accomplished, the three of us returned to the Land Cruiser, only something was wrong. The engine was quiet. The car was off.

"That's not good," we think to ourselves as Peter climbs in and turns the ignition. The engine turned with a repetitive, dissatisfied sputter, but no spark. He waited, then tried once more. The engine only made defeated sounds of disappointment.

Peter wasn't worried. He's ran into this before.

"We'll bump start it," he says, signaling to our friend the vet whose engine was purring perfectly. He pulled around behind us, this time setting up his winch to connect the front of his truck to the back of ours.

Once ready, the tan Toyota lurched backwards as Peter successfully bump started our rig in reverse. We all let out a cheer as the engine roared to life, regaining the accomplishment high from before. We wave goodbye to the vet, who needed to return to the sanctuary and care for his patients.

Our plight, however, wasn't quite over just yet.

Barely 20 minutes had passed when we came to a stop to yield to a motorcyclist passing through another impressive section of silt. After the path was clear, Peter began to push on the accelerator. Instead of moving forward, we realized we were sinking.

We look down and watch as our tires spin and dirt kick up. Peter rolled his eyes, popped open the door, and jumped out of the truck with both of us in tow. He opened the back hatch and retrieved a shovel and a pair of foldable recovery boards to help provide traction. The motorcyclist we previously yielded for returned to help lend a hand.

Before long, the tires were freed and, thankfully we were back underway, with plenty of silt in our clothes to keep as a memory.