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About Port Elizabeth

Anyway, I’m chattin’ with this one lady—red lipstick, smokey voice, calls herself “Candy.” I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “Is this chick for real?” She’s quotin’ prices like she’s sellin’ me a used Chevy. “Fifty bucks, Joe, and I’ll rock yer world!” I’m like, c’mon, man, I ain’t that green! Made me mad, tho—folks tryna hustle ya, takin’ advantage. But then she winks, and I’m crackin’ up—girl’s got charm, gotta give her that. “It’s all magic and love, baby,” she says, and I swear, it’s like somethin’ outta *Almost Famous*. I’m half expectin’ her to pull out a guitar and sing “Fever Dog.”

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The primary goal was to get to Willowmore in 44 hours or less. The sub-goals were critical if I wanted to achieve the primary goal. The next.

Not gonna lie, Willowmore sometimes makes me want to smash a bottle in rage, then laugh it off with a swig of whiskey. I mean, who else finds solace in those unexpected moments, when the wind whips through the abandoned train station near Ridge Road and you’re reminded that every broken thing can still shine — “When you’re fucked up, a little bit of blood is what you need”, or somethin’ like that, eh?

Brutal conditions at the 2022 Trans Baviaans Race