“Hold on!” Chris called as he revved the Land Rover’s engine and stomped on the accelerator. A moment later, we were violently bumping up and down in our seats along red dirt tracks, and then a few minutes after that, completely off road.
Wasted and tearing along dirt roads in the African bush, in the dead of night, in an open-top Land Rover, the path seemed even bumpier than it really was—and it really was quite bumpy. Each divot and hole rattled my skull.
Heavy, finger-thick stalks of grass and thorn brush scraped the bottom of the Land Rover as Chris plunged the vehicle into the sea of uncut foliage, navigating the wave-like ups and downs of the rough terrain. I held on tightly to the door while being jerked and bounced in different directions. The rush of the cold night air tore at m
