My Life as an African Gypsy

Read www.jonandlayne.com under 'Some of Our Stories' and see pictures there!

The girl side of the story...

It all started with an afternoon game drive. It was warm and sunny, and though there weren't many animals, I was enjoying being amongst God's creation and sitting next to my handsome rugged husband.

The roads were horrible, lots of puddles and bouncing, which is not terribly abnormal. During our morning drive we had experienced much of the same. Where the water was impassable, there were tracks to the side where other vehicles had made "new" roads.

An hour or so into the drive we passed a safari vehicle going the other direction. We stopped to say 'Hello' and hear if they had seen any animals. Only hippos at the hippo pool, which was quite a long ways away. We decided we'd drive another 30 minutes and then we'd turn around.

Along the way we crossed some pretty deep muddy patches, but our vehicle took it with no trouble, and the safari vehicle we had just seen had made it all the way through, giving us an extra boost of confidence.

We came to one particular patch of water, and after going in a bit a feeling out, Jon decided to reverse and look for a side road. Sure enough, right to the side of us there were tire marks in the grass. Someone had gone there before, so off we went!

Bad idea.

Directly past the hard firm ground, we sank. And I mean sank.

Jon looked worried, and I tried not to be a tad annoyed that we were in this predicament. This would probably mean that I would get dirty. Great.

I rolled up my jean legs and braced myself. Jon stripped to his undies. I had to laugh. What was it going to look like when a safari vehicle drove up? Oh dear...

We started digging in the stinky, stinky mud, and I took the ax to go get some more branches for the tires to grip. As Jon kept working, I kept glancing at the sun. It was setting quickly. I finally decided that we were going to be sleeping in the car, and if we were going to sleep in the car, we needed to clean off while we could see, as well as get situated for bed.

We stopped working and went to clean up in the delta.

Once in the vehicle, Jon was a bit riled up and needing to calm down. I cut up some cheese and got out the crackers. We ate freely; I was not thinking we needed to ration anything, as I was positive a safari vehicle would pass on a early morning drive.

In attempts of people hearing us, Jon honked SOS a few times, but had no response.

The car quickly turned into a sauna with our hot breath. We didn't want the mosquitoes inside, so we were going to suffer the heat... that didn't last long. We lathered up in mosquito repellent and rolled down the windows.

It was a long rough night, waking frequently, itching the ankles, wrapping up in towels because of the cold. When the sun began to rise, I saw the sky begin to lighten. Help would arrive soon!

We started honking SOS again, hoping to attract a nearby safari truck. My emotional state was sinking by the minute. We ate some fruit and energy bars, again not thinking we could be out much longer. We decided we would sit tight until 9, and if no one came, we would start digging again. In my stubbornness I told Jon I would dig the whole car out myself! I was not going to die in that car.

At 8:30 my hope began to diminish. We put on some sunscreen to got ready to dig. We hopped out, cut down some big branches and got digging again. I was sure we could get it. An hour or more later, muddy and hot, we came to the decision that we were buried to the axles and even if the tires gripped, there was no getting out.

We cleaned up, put the sun shade up, and got in the car. I began to cry. We were stranded. I tried to nap; Jon read. I kept honking. We heard a plane in the distance, and Jon decided to hop onto of our roof rack and wave a white towel to get some attention our direction.

Nothing.

He did this with a couple more planes, but we had no response.

I couldn't help but think how awful it would be to just starve right there; I felt like I was on some survivor show, but without the camera crews for safety.

Jon began to talk about walking back to camp. "Camp" was some 28km away... through a national game park, where we had seen lion, hyena, elephant, etc. He wanted me to stay put in the vehicle in case a truck came by and for safety; I said, "No." All I could imagine was Jon getting eaten by a lion or stomped to death by an elephant and me being stranded in the truck for days, hysterical and freaking out.

Not happening.

Through my tears I explained that if he was going to be eaten, then I wanted to be eaten too. With hesitation he agreed that we would walk together.

It was mid-day and we figured it was the best time of day for the animals, since it was hot and they would be sluggish. This was our best chance. We packed a small back pack, covered our heads and shoulders, wrote a couple notes for help and stuck them to the windows, and took off into the wild... quite literally.

Our beginning conversation was similar to, "If we see an elephant, move away slowly, behind a large tree trunk." "If we see a lion..." and so on. Along the path we encountered lion tracks, which were not as old as I would have liked. As brave as I wanted to be, I kept looking around nervously. We prayed aloud, and I reminded myself that God has shut the mouths of lions before, and He could do it again.

We waded through swampy water, me praying against snakes and their bites, jumping at any small movement. I stepped on a few thorns, frustrated they were slowing us down.

An hour in the walk, about 4km down the road, Jon saw some vehicles in the distance. Thank God! I was so scared they would started driving and not see us. We cut across the tall grass and broke into the clearing, surely shocking these tourists to death. They had their video cameras on, filming our explanation of why we were walking through the game park.

Thankfully they offered to take us to our vehicle and to pull us out. They had a winch on the front of their Defender, and we thought it should be no problem. Hooray! We'd be out in an hour and off to see our friends in Maun!

Since their vehicles were full, they put us on the roof rack of their trailer. The ride was painful as we tried not to fly off with each bump, but it would only be 4km and I could handle anything for that short distance.

After an hour of trying, they could not pull us out. The Bison was stuck good.

They offered for us to ride on the trailer again, and they would take us back to camp, since they were camping too. Without many other options, we climbed atop and gripped the side bars. It was beyond painful. I wanted to cry, but there was no time between bumps. I had to mentally focus. My back and neck popped every which way, quite audibly. I feared I would not walk when we got there. I had blisters on my hands and feet, from gripping and bouncing. It was horrible. Jon was really worried for me bouncing right off.

We arrived back at camp, tattered and tired. The park told us to sleep for the night and first thing in the morning we would go get our vehicle.

At 6:30am, the time they told us to be there, no one was there. We waited. Around 7 we were told there was no vehicle to go right then, that one was coming from another camp right then and would be there by 10am. OK.

We went back to our tent and the tears came... and came. I could not imagine staying any longer. I needed shampoo. I needed food. And everything they said would happen, wasn't. I was so afraid of not getting our vehicle.

Finally at noon the truck arrived. Jon went, and I stayed to pack up camp in faith that our vehicle was coming back with Jon. And when it arrived, I wanted to pack it and get out quick.

I waited and waited. Praying and hoping. Hours later, Jon pulled up in the Bison and the tears nearly started all over again.

It was over.