Outback Challenge, Part 2
Photos and text by Scott Brady

No sleep, adrenalin and too much caffeine is a brutal cocktail. Standing in the hotel parking lot we were wide awake, yet shaking from 14 hours of intense night driving through the Atlas Mountains with no guard rails and no lights on Nicola’s Land Cruiser.

After a short caravan trek from Moulay Ali Cherif the competitors left the highway and staged for the premier challenge. Nathan and I focused intensely on the instructions for the day’s event, which were given in French (with which neither of us are fluent). With 20 minutes to enter the tasks waypoints, we worked at a steady pace; I read off the coordinates while Nathan entered them into the laptop and repeated them back. Nicola and Sebastien did the same as a double check to help prevent entry errors.

To the minute, the announcer’s horn broke the silence and the race trucks staged for the start. The teams started in two-minute increments, tearing across the hardened mesa, thick clouds of dust our only tell to the direction they had chosen. There were essentially no rules for this stage, with the exception of hitting every waypoint within 5 meters or so, as there could be a surprise checkpoint. The route was open, including highways, pistes (the French word for dirt track), dunes and washes; 450 km’s into Algeria on some of the most remote and rugged landscape in the world.

The waypoints took us south along the Mehjaoua Qued and into the Western flanks of the Sahara, and right into the town of Agoult. It seemed like the logical navigation choice, with the 1960’s era topo maps showing the road going directly through town. However, reality proved different and the road ended at a huge mud mosque. Thinking there had to be a way around the mosque walls, we drove deeper into the village, asphalt turning to dirt and the streets becoming a twist of narrow paths and mud brick homes. A few lefts and a few rights and we were lost, along with our GPS coverage because of the tall structures. Children began closing in on the race trucks, further adding to the confusion. Men in dark robes came to the doorways and looked with stern faces at the westerners disturbing their quiet town. Then we came to a dead end.

Sand dune driving.

Parked on some dunes.

The crowd grew larger and the adults pointed sternly for us to back up. The confusion and lack of reference had us completely lost. In a moment of clarity, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a very shiny five Euro coin and handed it to the oldest of the children near the door of our truck. I told him to take me to the mosque, where I would give him five more. His eyes lit up and off he went. In reverse, the two big Toyotas backed out of the narrow path and onto increasingly wider streets. The sense of relief was palpable when the blacktop came into view. We handed out stickers and a few Durham to the other kids and got the hell out of Dodge (er, Agoult).

Progress improved significantly after Agoult as our team settled in and Nathan made a series of strong navigation choices. The sun was setting and we were making great progress through Algeria, sticking to the major tracks and closing in on our three remaining waypoints. The route was intense, with wide, fast mesas broken by deep ravines and canyons. Route selection was critical, as dropping into the wrong canyon could end our chance for a win.

Relief came when we hit a major piste and the speeds increased to nearly 100 kph. Nathan advised me that we would be intersecting a large road in about .5 km (based on the GPS map). Dipping further into the throttle, the turbo moved the heavy Cruiser well over 100 kph on the graded surface. The roar of the tires and motor was interrupted by Nathan yelling “That is not a road, it is the international border!” I lift off the throttle at the same time I see the border crossing and the border guard putting all of his weight on the crossing arm, which went vertical just as we blew through in a cloud of dust. Moroccan soldiers began pouring out of the bunker to our right in various stages of dress, but each with a rifle. We stuck our arms out of the window, waving frantically, and with big smiles, praying they wouldn’t shoot. Instead of shooting, they just stood in amazement as two race trucks tore off into the setting sun.

After finishing the stage (in first place), we still had 160 km’s to drive to camp near M’Hamid. Now at much slower speeds, we fought the urge to sleep against the drone of the big diesels. After helping to extract a stuck competitor and wandering through the sea of dunes in the dark, camp finally came into view. I barely remember falling into a heap on the floor of the Bedouin Tent.

 

Day two was a special navigation challenge through the massive dune system of Debbiait Sfaia that parallels the Algerian border. The stage began in a vast sea of 30-meter dunes in search of eight waypoints. The first team got stuck within 10 meters of the start, their big Patrol buried axle deep. The driver bolted from the car and attempted to extract the Nissan with the winch. While digging in the hot sun he fell to his knees and then face into the dunes, passing out due to heat exhaustion. We were next, and the marshal sent us into the same dunes, though I chose the path of least resistance and stayed away from the tallest dunes and on the hard crust between the mountains of sand. Our strategy paid off and we made great time through the course, getting first place.

The third day brought a series of special tasks, including a closed dune course and a winching stage. The closed dune course gave me the first chance to test the BFGoodrich Baja T/A’s and Staun beadlocks at ultra-low pressures; in this case 3 psi. Like tank tracks, the tires provided flotation and excellent sand grip allowing for a fast time and completion of an optional climb, which gave us an hour bonus.

Following the dune course was a caravan drive to a winching stage that required winching one of the team trucks down a 30-meter tall face and then pulling them back up again. My PZJ73 was equipped with a hybrid Warn 8274 upright with a 6.5 HP motor. Because of the fast winch and good communications we beat the second place team by over 15 minutes. After the winching stage, another navigation challenge brought us back to camp.

Zooming through the desert

Rising early on day four, we drove in caravan to the challenge I most anticipated, cliffhanger. The goal is to dig or winch away the face of a three-meter tall cliff to the point that you can winch your vehicle to the top. Then, the second vehicle in the team winches to the top and both trucks turn around and drive off the cliff. Winch too early and there is a chance of a roll over when coming down; winch too late and you lose.

We used the big Warn and the ground anchor to knock down the cliff face and then winched early to try and secure the win. Secured to the ground anchor, my Cruiser went up the face, aided by the BFG’s and the Marks Adapters t-case gearing. Nicola’s Cruiser also pulled up the face without issue. Then it was time to turn the trucks around and drop off the cliff. As I edged the nose down the face, the rear tires started to slide as gravity took hold. Knowing that an endo was possible, I had selected 2nd gear, low range and once the rear tires slid to the edge, I hammered the throttle. The Land Cruiser landed bumper first in the soft dirt and sand at the base of the cliff, the rear axle several feet off of the face. The truck started to go over sideways, and the front tires finally grabbed traction and we landed on all four tires. Nicola’s long travel Cruiser faired better and he only left the ground momentarily. The win at Cliffhanger was huge for Team Alice Springs, and combined with our previous wins, gave us a six hour lead ahead of second place. Now it was time to drive conservatively and keep the trucks in one piece.

The final challenges included a high speed, closed course dune race, a technical canyon course, an amphibious rock crawling course and finally a technical rock crawling course. We placed second in the dune race, and in the middle of the pack in the canyon. The water rock crawling course was a blast with hood high water over submerged rocks, followed by a 40-meter long mud trench and then a 3-foot tall rock ledge, more sandstone and then a huge water hole at the finish. My competitive nature got the best of me there and I hammered the cruiser through the course and won first place, grinning from ear to ear.
The last rock crawling challenge was in a tight canyon and very familiar to Nathan and I thanks to years of wheeling in the rocks of the Southwest.

We came back to camp to a huge Moroccan feast, wine and the deadly French Pastis (A 45% alcohol like Ouzo, that makes you think you can actually understand and speak French). The following morning we had the awards ceremony, where we were given our trophy and a bottle of champagne. In typical Motorsports fashion, I shook the bottle, popped the cork and proceeded to spray champagne in the air. While looking around I noticed the horror on the faces of my French friends as the last drops of the $120 bottle sank into the sand of the Sahara. Sorry “Mes Amis”, I will bring a bottle for us to drink next year!

Resources:

Outback Imports: www.outback-import.com
Extreme Outback Products: www.extremeoutback.com