Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 12

January 13, 2026  Stage 9.

Today is a long stage again.  217 km liaison, 420 km special, and 110 km liaison.  Now you might be thinking the liaison road section is a gimme, and yes, driving it is easy.  But it is boring, and cold, and at night on the way back, it’s hard to see. It’s no fun.

I don’t know what came over me, but today I decided to RACE.  I was annoyed with cars passing me.  My Baja instincts kicked in for the whole day.  We were going one way to pitch a tent again.  Well, I killed it.  We passed 23 cars today, and finished 95th overall, and 17th in our class.

There are not too many classes in Dakar like in Baja.  There are two motorcycle classes, an unlimited class, Challenger, SSV (that’s us) stock, classic, and atv.  Oh yes, there is one more incredible class – race trucks.  Not Baja kind of race trucks, I mean truck trucks.  Big giant trucks.  You’d think they’d be slow.  Oh no.  Half of them go by me!  They are fast!  Amazing to watch.  

I did hit a tree today. It was a small tree, and the brakes were locked up when I hit it.  Minor damage.  Not a big deal.  But the power steering was pulling badly to the left.  If I let the steering wheel go we would take a HARD left.  I drove 75 miles like that.

We pulled into the “refuge bivouac”, got our tent and sleeping bag, rehydrated rations from a box, and went to sleep.  No mechanics here. 

In the morning, we faced Stage 10, after another bad night’s sleep on hard ground, we fixed the steering ourselves.  Well, Dennis did. Some guys had flats and had to be extra cautious today.  We did not get any coming here, so we were good.

When I went to start the car, it was dead.  We had a jumper box and got it started.  We left the jumper box hooked up to the car all day.  

The race was wearing hard on everyone now.  This race was designed to break you.  Nothing would be easy.  There’s no calling “no fair”.  This is real.  Suck it up and get it done, or go home.  Nobody can save you.  You have come this far.  Keep going or quit.  If you quit, you still have to get back to the bivouac somehow.  Nights are very cold out here.

I focused on what was in front of me, trying to stay present and not think of how far I had to go.  Do your best in this moment. That’s all you’ve got.

Today would be a big dune day.  We were doing great, but got stuck high-centered at the crest of a dune.  A race truck was in the same predicament 40 meters to our left.  The car was overheating again.  We lost 15 minutes digging out.  At least we were not in a hole.

A while later, there was a long section of small dunes and we were behind a big truck.  We got stuck in the soft sand at the edge of a shallow hole.  We lost another 25 minutes digging out.  

We finished 18th in SSV out of 38 starters back in stage 1, despite losing time twice for getting stuck.  Since there are at least 14 pro drivers who do this for a living in our class, I’m very happy with that.  Well, as happy as you can be when you are beat down, tired, sore, and fatigued in every way.

10 stages complete.  I’m ok.

“I got this”.

Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 11

January 12 – Stage 8

Today is the longest Special (Dirt race section) of the Rally.  171 km liaison, 487 km special, then another 171 km liaison back to the bivouac.  

It was a mix of terrain.  First it was fast, then dunes, then fast, then dunes, rocks, fast again, then just crap.

It was a tough day.  It started with dunes – big ones.  BIG.  We were behind another car when we approached the foot of a huge dune.  Another car had failed and was coming down at us. In the dunes, you have to get on the gas and get momentum and speed, or you will not make it up and over.  Your engine is whining at max rpm, but your speed is slowing and slowing as you go up.  If you feel you aren’t going to make it you have to turn down and around, otherwise you will bury all four tires and be stick on a steep slope.  It is sketchy when you turn down because when you are off camber, you feel like you are going to flip over.  You have to get the nose pointed down as soon as possible if you abort.

So this guy is coming down at us, and the guy in front of me decides to go left and around.  I follow.  Soon, we are making virgin tracks.  My plan is to cut right when I can and find the race line to rejoin it.  The sun is directly overhead, and my eyes can’t make out the shapes or the dunes or even see where the crest is. I’m surprised by sudden drops, I did not see coming. The color of the sand in front of me is the same as the sand of the higher dune in the distance, and it all blends together. I am feeling uncomfortable.

I can’t drive aggressively like you should in the dunes because I don’t want to crest a dune at speed and flip the car forward end over end, as happens to more than a few drivers.  We drop down a 20-foot slope, and the sand is super soft.  All four wheels dig in easily, and we are up to the skid plate in sand.  We are in a bowl – uphill on all sides.  Worst-case scenario.  Dennis gets out and gets to work.  He is not reporting progress.  I get out.  It’s bad.  I start digging with the shovel, but digging is not the whole answer because the undercarriage is already on the sand at the bottom of this bowl.  

The wind is blowing the sand up the slopes, and the sand is falling over the crests.  I see our deep tracks erased in minutes.  The dunes are being reshaped in real time before our eyes.  They are alive.

We have to put the two boards we have under the front tires, and jack the car up with the jack to put sand under the rear tires to lift them up.  We are jacking, and the bottom of the jack is going down and down, instead of the top coming up.  Quicksand.

I thought we were done.  From the looks of it, I didn’t think we’d ever get out.  Of course, I did not give up.  At this point, we’d die out there.  (A little dramatic. They have helicopters.)  We were off course. A chase truck could not get to our location, I didn’t think.  But we needed to finish, and we were early in the stage.  After 45 minutes, we thought we were ready to try to drive out.  The lowest part of the bowl was, unfortunately, at my seven o’clock position.  I had to get out going uphill, and turn sharply at the same time.  

I get in, start it up, and try.  I go three feet and bury in again.  Oh no!  Not good!

We get back to work.  Same procedure.  This time, by some miracle, and with engine revving and movement at a snails pace, I was able to inch forward and drive out.  Whew!  

We lost 1 1/2 hours.  Now we had to find the course.  While digging, I could hear engines in a direction over two giant crests.  I was worried about getting stuck now more than ever.  I burst through virgin sand to find the course line.  

I was grateful the rest of the day for still being in the race, no matter how much time we lost.  The overheating problem seemed to be solved.  We got back at 8:30 pm.  We were both very cold.

Tomorrow – we go one-way camping in a tent again.

Oh the joys…

Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 10

January 11  Stage 7

Coming off rest day in the desert somewhere near Riyadh.  Trying to sleep in the bivouac is not easy.  There are helicopters coming and going – like the one for the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia.  Apparently, there are a lot of princes, and one is in charge of motorsports, and he had a big helicopter.  Then mechanics are working on vehicles all over the bivouac, and they have to start them and test whatever they were working on. There is loud revving engine noise all night closeby.  This is Dakar. 

This stage is another long one – 875 km.  271 liaison, 450 special, 260 liaison.

Second half.  Here we go.  I felt like each mile driven now put me closer to the finish.  But I had a long way to go.

It started with big dunes.  We were “surfing” the dunes – where you wind along the crests at the tops, when a photographer was standing at the crest right in our line.  People ask me how we got such epic pictures.  Well, the race organization and South Racing hire photographers to station themselves in the most epic places and take pictures.  They send you a link to your photos by the end of the day.  It’s amazing.

Well, we almost ran one of them over.  We had to abort our good line and turn down into a bit of a hole to save the poor fellow’s life.  But we got stuck in the sand.  Dennis got out to assess the situation and to dig us out.  Meanwhile, other cars were going by us really close, and one car came over the berm and nearly T-boned us.  We lost 15 minutes.  We were lucky in many ways.

Our overheating issue persisted, and Dennis was calling the temperature to me often.  Again, it was intermittent, but climbing soft sand dunes was one thing the car did not like from an engine temperature perspective.  I was worried we’d blow this engine and it would all be over.  We had to put water in twice.

We both had our face shields changed the night before.  Wiping abrasive dust off your face shield all day puts little micro-abrasions in it until it seems cloudy.  We got new shields, but little did we know, they were the “cheap ones”.  They marred up within hours and we were struggling to see.  By nightfall, with headlights, I could not see very well at all to drive the car.  Good thing I had a backup plan.  I brought $2 safety glasses that I bought in Baja, Mexico, with me.  I put them on and raised my shield just a bit to see through.  It worked and saved us!

The dunes gave way too fast, flat sections and then small canyons with rocky passes between them.  We were chasing two cars that were both in our class just ahead of us. Suddenly, the first one veers off to the right wildly.  The next one veers suddenly to the left.  It was almost as if they were pulling over to let me pass.  Then – “Boom – Boom!”  I realized what happened.  There was a sharp tire-eating rock that they both hit.  Then we hit it for two flats at once!

Good thing we had two spares.  In Baja, we only carry one.  Dennis changed the tires and now we had to be extra cautious as we had no more spares.  Our flat-less streak was broken.  Dang.  We lost 30 minutes and finished 115th overall, and 24th in our class.  

On the two-hour liaison in the cold darkness back to the bivouac, we were following another car.  Remember, in the liaison road sections, we are not being timed.  Dennis realized that he had missed a turn 15 km back.  Nobody saw it in the black night.  We flagged him down and told him but he did not believe us.  He elected to keep going. We turned back and went a long way.  To be honest, I doubted Dennis was right.  Then he started doubting it himself, but he said the road book said keep going back.  We were cold and tired, and an hour and a half from the bivouac.  Finally, we found this important hidden turn, and were headed the right way home.  When you are in a foreign country, in the middle of nowhere, in the cold night, with limited food and gas, you can get into a bad situation quickly.  Ask me how I know.

I was tired.  Very tired.

Six stages to go.

Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 9

Did you ever set out to do something out of your comfort zone, and you are unsettled by it, and it’s challenging, but once you are there and it seems to be going well, a feeling of satisfaction comes over you?  You are proud of what you are doing?

You never know what you can do if you do not try.  

I took stock of where I was. In Saudi Arabia, in the most remote locations, racing in the longest race on the planet. Pinch me. I’m actually here doing it.

Ted was doing great with his duties, taking enough footage, interviews, and setting up GoPro cameras on the car each day so we could make a movie later.  The question is – how will it end?  I guess that part was my job.

South Racing continued to wow me.  I became great friends with my mechanics, the cooks, and the whole staff.  At Dakar, everyone is in the same boat.  We are all talking at dinner about our day, the challenges, and our problems.  Egos are out the door by now.  We are all helping each other however we can.  

Stage 6.  A long one today.  A whopping 925 Kilometers.  270 km liaison, 336 km special, and 260 km liaison back.  That’s far.  The liaisons were very cold sitting there at the speed limit on the road.  But during the day, it was perfect – cool – no sweating. 

Today, ALL DUNES!  

Today was the day to see if I had shaken the dune curse for good.  We started the special in the dunes, watching cars launch up over the first high crest and disappear.  Our turn.  Let’s go!  

I did great!  I did not feel sick all day.  Up and down.  Up and down.  Up, up, up, and doooooown.  Early on, I followed an “ultimate class” car closely.  I learned some lines from him.  It’s an advantage to follow another guy because you can see how fast his car disappears over a crest.  If it’s a gentle slope on the other side or a sharp downhill, you can see it and ride the crest appropriately yourself.  After 30 minutes or so, we were on our own. 

We got the four-wheel drive figured out – good thing because in this soft sand, we needed it.  After 200 km, we had to stop to add water to the engine again. The problem was not getting fixed.  We were thinking it was a head gasket.  They had changed the radiator, hoses, and all kinds of things to try to fix it, yet we were still losing antifreeze.   

At one point, the car would not go over 90km/hr.  But Dennis found a low gear switch that was engaged.  

We were in the dunes for the last hour.  Our lights were not good like the lights we have in Baja.  But here they don’t expect you to be out at night for too long.  In Baja, you are racing sunset to sunrise.  Dennis told me something surprising – he had never navigated at night before. I probably had 100 hours of night racing experience.  It didn’t worry me – but these lights seemed like 2 candle-power.  Geez.  

I was really happy about my driving.  The dunes were tough.  Another South racing car aborted the day when it got dark.  He would not drive in the dunes at night for how scary it can be.  He was out of the Dakar Rally for that.

My mechanics were thrilled that I went six days without a flat or any major damage.  They say it is a Dakar record.  Put me in the record books, coach!  Hey, it’s something!…..

We finished 110th on the day, 19th in our class – the best yet.  We are in 107th position overall for all four-wheel vehicles.  

We got back to the bivouac at 10 pm.  I got to bed at 12:30 am.  Late.  Here’s the great news.  There is a “rest day” – no racing for a day in the middle of the rally.  Tomorrow was a rest day! We were near Riyadh and could perhaps go to the city for a visit.  But there was no way I’d have time.  There was much to do, including REST!

I had finished the first half of the Dakar Rally.  Many did not. I had the terrain and the driving figured out.  There was no terrain type they could throw at me now that I was not comfortable in.  At least I thought…

I was tired and grateful.

Dakar – lessons from the longest race on earth. Part 8

Stage 4  – January 7.

Twice in this race they had the racers do something especially challenging.  We raced 450 kilometers one way, where they gave you a tent and sleeping bag.  You pitched your tent in the middle of nowhere, and in the morning you raced back.  No mechanics.  Only two spare tires.

The course was fast all day.  In our class, SSV, we had a speed limiter – we could go up to 135 km an hour, or 84 miles an hour.  We were at that a lot.  It’s scary when you get dusted out and can’t see where you are going at 84 mph!

The engine was getting hot and we were concerned.  Too hot and the engine blows and we are out of the race.  Towards the end we had to stop and put four liters of water into the radiator.  It must have been leaking out somewhere.  Hopefully that somewhere was not through the head gasket into the engine.  After we got the checkered flag, it was only one kilometer to the camp.  It turned out to be a majestic setting where the flats rolled up against small mountains made of near vertical rock. 

As far as the overall standings, at the end of Stage 1, we were in 181st place out of about 280 four-wheel vehicles.  After stage 2 – 150th.  After Stage 3 – 135.  And now after stage 4 – 120th.  

Sometimes, you just keep showing up in life, long after your competition has failed, lost interest, retired – and you are ahead just because you kept showing up.

We got our tent, our sleeping bag, and a box of food.  Tent pitched, food hydrated with water, and eat. Sun sets, climb into the tent and go to sleep.  I’m a side sleeper, and the hard ground made for a bad night’s sleep with my shoulders and hips hurting.  In the morning we awake to the beautiful setting.  Instant coffee, eat, and wait a bit for our start time, watching other vehicles start from a perch up the rocks.  

Stage 5 was leaving this remote place and making our way back to the bivouac, which was normal, moved hundreds of miles since we saw it last.  They pack everything up – this whole city, and move it long distances, and set it up again.  Usually, just in the time we are out on the course.  It’s a miracle of logistics, planning and teamwork.

The course was fast all day.  We’d be going along and suddenly the car would come out of 4-wheel drive.  If I was turning, we’d start to fishtail.  Later, we would learn that we were just in the wrong electronic “mode”.  We did not know the car well enough at that moment.

The car continued to run hot, but it was intermittent.  We could not explain it.  It would be hot, then the temperature would come down.  Later, it would heat up again.  We had to stop for ten minutes to add four liters of water again.  We finished 115th overall in all four wheel classes, and 24th in our class – the best yet.  We were now 116th overall.  The mechanics fixed the water leak (so they thought) and replaced a broken sway arm.

I felt good – better every day.  The days are long, but my brain accepted it.  This is what we do every day.  We drive – fast in rough terrain – ALL DAY LONG.  That is our life right now.  

Dennis is great.  He is smart, experienced, and calm.  No drama.  Being from South Africa he has an accent.  (He says it’s me.)  Speed zones near villages or camel paddocks are either thirty kilometers per hour or fifty.  Well, the way the South Africans say “thirty” and “Fifty” sounds the same. Especially though headphones with tons of background engine and tire noise.  We had enough misunderstandings and clarifications that I asked him to say “Third Eye” or “Fitty Cent”.  He laughed and complied.  It worked.  

Dennis – “In 300 meters, speed zone, fitty cent.” 

Me – “Got it”