Verneukpan, where nothing becomes something

Verneukpan

But this story is about nothing. It was a certain pole-dancing girl’s birthday and the annual wild-camp bash was planned – last minute…

On the Thursday after work, we grabbed our sleeping bags, filled our tanks and left west. I’ve never been to the pan and being over 1 000km away – we had to tap every drop of sunshine out of the available three days.

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Verneuk:

An Afrikaans word meaning to deceive, to mislead or to swindle. But we came here for the desertedness and we were not deluded… The last rays scratched streaks over the pan, clinging on for dear life as the sun fell over the edge – nou gaan ons braai!
Except for the crackle of the wood, we could hear nothing… not a sausage.

Siener van Rensburg (a well-known prophet) predicted that a red bull would approach with fierce horns, but would limp away with a broken leg.

In this battle Lord Methuen was shot in the leg and for the rest of his life he walked cripple with an aid… We found the pub! The barman gave Chikita a Bunch of Flowers for her birthday… or so this drink is called. I think she might have a pollen allergy; cause she didn’t feel so strong the next morning.

There was a brand-new lorrie next to the road, taking a short rest from his long trip to his new home. I wonder if they also sometimes forget their puncture-repair kit at home? The driver gave us permission to clamber all over this yellow gevaarte.

The road from Kathu to Upington was a killer! Long, straight, windy and boring as SABC2.

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The ‘farm’ is called Khi Solar One. Johan pointed his mirror to a wooden plank about six metres away and within seconds it started smoking! He warned us not to walk in front of the mirror and that our clothing could catch alight.

We held our hands about a metre in front of the mirror and it was hot enough to make you skrik and pluk your hand away.

We left Kenhardt with heads full of ideas – hot ones!

Kenhart, the last town we would see before we got to the pan. We filled up with petrol and had lunch at Oma Miemie’s farmstall.

The most certain energy is the self – my body, my thoughts, my actions. The world and all other minds do not exist. I obviously invented solipsism. What is a man? He is nothing in comparison with the infinite and all in comparison with nothing.

Nothing is a concept denoting the absence of something. Nothing denotes things lacking importance or value. For the adventurer it denotes a destination.

Here, it was already knee-height! There were about seven or eight gates keeping the nix from roaming free.
We stopped at the farmhouse to buy a few bundles of wood and get the keys to the last gate. Friendly farmers, friendly dogs, friendly sheep!

She became smaller and smaller, while the wind kept teasing her to run faster and faster. The pan is 57km long… I’m not sure how far she got!

We met up with the farm foreman to drop off the keys. Just look at that trusty TW horse of his, 22-spanner tied to the handle bar like a knight’s sword. He could probably fix the world!

Around the back of the farmhouse is the old race car (Edge), or what is left of it. Johan Jacobs used it in 2006 for an attempt at a speed record. He lost control at about 500km/h, and did not survive.

We who make stories know that we tell lies for a living. But they are good lies that say true things and we owe it to our readers to build them as best we can. Because somewhere out there is someone who needs that story.

Someone who will grow up with a different landscape, who without that story will be a different person. And who with that story may have hope, or wisdom, or kindness, or comfort. And that is why we write.

Neil Gaiman