(Daniel) There are many different ways to wake up.  To silence, to bird song, to the sound of water rushing by.  Some of these make you wake up slowly, easing you out of sleep, until you are ready to face the day.  Some of ways jolt you out of sleep, an animal instinct kicking in to make you alert and ready.  Machine gun fire is one of these noises, and it was to this noise, about ten feet away from my head that I woke up this morning…

The shots were loud and came in two short bursts, I hoped that they were nothing, perhaps not even gunshots, but having just fired an AK47 in Siem Reap, I knew the sound only too well.  I looked out of the front and side windows of the tent, but the boys were not around.  Quietly unzipping the door, I slipped out and dropped to the ground next to the truck.  From underneath I could see the youngest of our guards, or his feet at least, walking towards me.  I came out from the truck so that he could see me, standing next to him were the two other guards, who all had machine guns in hand. “ Tell me that you just shot a wild pig.”  I said hopefully.  “Chicken” replied the guard, referring to the jungle chicken, a bit like a pheasant.  They had missed, taking years off my life, and not even denting the chickens happy existence. 

I could see that the boys were amused at the effect that the guns had on Nii and I, and wondered if there had been a chicken at all!?  We set about making breakfast then, the boys getting some water on the boil for a soup, and reheating last nights chicken Panang. I went and had a shower in the freezing water to wake myself up, and then sat down to eat some of the food.

I’m not sure what it was, but I have said before that when you eat something bad, your body tells you.  It’s a subtle message, but it’s there if you can hear it.  Since my brush with dysentery in Pakistan I have been very careful to listen to my body. The message came now, I think it was the soup, and on reflection, the water which may have been tap water in this case had not been boiling when they added the noodles to it.  Whatever happens, my body gave me a clear message that I had offended it in some way, as I went to the toilet twice in the next 15 minutes before we left.

When it was finally time to go, the whole camp being packed up again, I sat down and discussed the idea of progressing further into the jungle with the boys.  They were unsure of the sense in the idea, as we would always have to come back this way, and were certainly looking at a day to return along the leg that we had already covered, so to add another few kms could mean adding two or even three days to the itinerary!  I decided that going back was the best plan.  So we took a few group photos for prosperity, then used the waffle board to climb back off the rocks which had served as our camp site.

As I moved the waffle I noticed that the spring had popped out from it mounting, as usual.  A problem that would be solved by a locator cone, which I now realise is an essential piece of kit for off roading, I still can’t understand why these aren’t fitted as standard.  I used our Hi-lift jack to lift up the vehicle by the rock slider sill, and got the boys to help me pop the spring back into place.  Then I dropped the vehicle back down to the familiar twang as the spring located itself correctly.  A note on the Hi-lift.  It worked very well at the outset, but dust soon creeps in,  making the movement sticky and unreliable.  This said, it is still the best jack for the expedition and off-road use by far!

With Nii and the boys back on board, I carefully negotiated the rock strewn forest back to the army track.  The weather overnight had been good, leaving the track dry and easy to negotiate, our first obstacle being a small stream which I had simply driven through without more than a slight bogging in the soft mud at the side of the track.  This time I got a bit more momentum, ready for the sludge, but didn’t take into consideration the underground river that fed the stream running alongside the track.  The vehicle bogged in and stalled as I tried to power through.  I started her up again and tried to back out to get another run, but she leaned heavily over to the side and wouldn’t budge.  Worried that the situation could get worse, I jumped out and asked the others to do the same.

I have used the term ‘axle deep’ many times before, but as I jumped out of the door, which was pointing at an almost 45 degree angle to the sky, the situation which I faced was much worse.  The mud was so deep that it went up into the chassis rails and the vehicle was so far over that if it slipped much more I could be in danger of tipping over.  This is a bad enough situation for any off roader, but tipping into a river, in the middle of the jungle, at the end of an almost impassible track?  This called for careful recovery to say the least!

I elected to winch out, easily said, but there were no suitable trees in range.  We decided to try a small tree just off the track at an angle that should avoid tipping the vehicle further.  I pulled out the winch cable and the tree strops, attaching the winch to the tree.  I jumped in the Wolf and started the wheels spinning to assist the winch as I winched in there was second as the winch tensioned and pulled, but then the tree bent and pulled straight out of the ground by the root.  I returned to the spot, where the three boys were looking apprehensive.  They suggested using several small trees at once.  We hooked up a series of strops and repeated the procedure.  This time the winch had no effect on the movement of the vehicle, but all of the small trees fell over together as the strops took the bark off their trunks.  I should say now, for the benefit of any tree lovers who may be reading this and screaming blue murder at me from afar, that these are jungle trees that spring up and fall down in months not decades, and the four or five which just turned into compost will be back in force in no time!

It was obvious that these small trees were not man enough for the job, and we would have to find something larger for the job.  Two trees, which I could describe as adolescent poked through the thick brush about forty feet off the track.  I took my machete and cut a path through to them, attaching the strop to the first one.  Sadly this and the other suffered similar fates, bringing us only centimeters closer to the track and burying us inches deeper into the mud.  Just then, Mr Yet piped up, he had found a tree stump at the side of the track that should hold, but it was on the same side as the Wolf, an angle which did not suit recovery as it could tip us over too far.  I opted to try, hooking the winch up to the stump and returning to the vehicle.  Inside I switched on the digital inclinometer, a useless contraption except for just such an occasion when the vehicle is still and on the borderline of tipping over, it read 36 degrees, an angle which I had previously thought my maximum.  I winched in, but instantly the Wolf lurched over to the side another two degrees.  My frustration started to dent my mood then, and I decided to call a break in proceedings.  Sensing a suitable time to strike, my stomach decided to churn matters up a little giving me cause to find a quiet spot in the bushes.

No further rested, I walked out from the bushes to the worried faces of my four passengers.  I looked around and saw that there were large trees, but they were 150 feet into the deep jungle at the angle I required.  I opened up the winching bag and pulled out all the ropes and strops I had in stock, linking them together and starting out again into the bush with my machete.  Eventually I found myself at a tree thick enough to anchor the winch.  (By the way, if there is anyone from Pulpal reading this, please send me a ground Anchor?  Please?!)

On returning to the Wolf, I said a prayer, which I could see was echoed by the others to their various gods, then winched in to take the strain.  The tree held, and as I started the wheels spinning the winch continued spooling the line.  Slowly but surely the vehicle started to inch forward, righting it’s angle and eventually freeing itself from the soft sticky mud.  Two hours and a lot of sweat and effort after thinking that this stream would not be an issue, we were free!  A cheer went up as I got out and inspected the damage.  The valve on the deepest wheel was leaking, but not fast, the paint on that wheel had been all but sanded off leaving steel showing through, and as I pulled away the X-Brake, disk handbrake was making an awful rattling metallic noise that meant the disk or pads were not in the right place!

Everyone was tired as we pulled up to the next obstacle, the gulley that had kept us digging and winching for almost an hour yesterday, but we jumped out and everyone mucked in to get the job done in half the time, although we did seem to dig out a lot more mud on the nose this time!

After leaving this obstacle we passed each of the river crossings and without needing a winch or the waffles, and crossed our self made bridge without further modification being needed.  After another two hours we found our selves at the river which had been labeled impossible the day before and had taken us several attempts and some serious use of waffle boards to cross last time.  I dropped into the deep water and drove across following the route which I knew to be safe.  The first attempt was not quite enough to pull us out of the other side, but after pulling back and trying again, we drove out without incident.  

As we pulled up at the village, the locals were pleased to see us again safe and well, furnishing us with drinks and seats while they crowded around to see our videos and photos, I found myself with four children hugging me while they watched from either side of my chair!  The two local police left us then, I thanked them for their monumental efforts, asking Mr Yet if he had paid them for their time, he confirmed that he had ‘looked after them’ signaling that it was now time to leave.

We waived goodbye and pulled away.  Within no time, Mr Yet and Nii were fast asleep, and it was just me and my ever worsening stomach left to drive the two hours back to the ferry and Koh Kong Town.

After we dropped off Mr Yet, we went straight back to the Hotel and stripped off the muddy smelly clothes that we had worn for the last two days.  I spent a long time in the bathroom, between showering and other ablutions, before climbing into bed.  Nii came out of the shower about half an hour later and looked at me in shock.  I had turned grey, and was sweating profusely.  She walked over and checked my temperature, it was incredibly high.  She brought me water and my medicine kit from the truck.  After dosing myself up I fell into an uncomfortable sleep, waking three hours later to be violently sick for 30 minutes before going back to sleep, I prayed for a quick recovery.

PREVIOUS |  NEXT