GPS and an Old African Saying

An old African saying – “GPS tells you the road. It does not tell you there is a hole in the road.”  OK, maybe not an old saying, but we did hear this advice in Africa from Harry, one of our safari guides. I was thinking about Harry recently, as someone stuck his truck in our field, while following his GPS.

 On our last visit to Africa, we spent quite a bit of time in Botswana. At one of the camps, our guide Harry disappeared for a day and they linked us with an alternate. The next day, Harry returned and we asked what happened. It turned out some people were touring with their own vehicle and had spent a night at the camp. They left, and a day or two later, the camp received a distress call. The vehicle had an accident and broke down. Harry and another guy went to help them. 

The people in the vehicle were blindly using GPS to follow a route. They came to a small river and although signs showed they were to go another way, the GPS told them to go straight across the river and ford it there. Unknown to them, the river current formed a hole in the bottom at that crossing point, so locals found a new crossing point about one hundred meters away. That is where the signs pointed. Our intrepid travellers ignored the signs, and started across the river. Halfway across, they hit the hole and their four-wheel drive vehicle’s front end went in and stuck. They couldn’t go forward, or backward. They sent out a distress call, and fortunately Harry came to their rescue. He told us the story and then finished with his words of wisdom: “GPS tells you the road. It does not tell you there is a hole in the road. You still need common sense and awareness of your surroundings.”

 At the farm, we have had similar issues with people strictly following their GPS. When people are to turn right on Swains Road, which is about fifty yards past our driveway, the GPS tells them “turn right” when they are even with our driveway. Mistakenly, they break quickly and turn on our driveway, even though our mailbox and a post with our address on it are right there. Neither of those items deter the drivers and they continue down our driveway. Reaching the house and barn, they realize their mistake and depart, usually speeding.

The problem was so prevalent, we eventually bought two signs. One saying it was a private drive. A second sign telling people their GPS was wrong and to turn around. They helped, but didn’t stop everyone. 

 Which brings us to a few weeks ago. Cath and I arrived home and found a vehicle stuck in our front field. I parked the car in the drive and walked over. A man and his young son were with their vehicle. The vehicle was on the edge of our property and Swains road, which borders us. One of his wheels had slid off a three foot drop off. They couldn’t go forward, or backward. Oh, and cell coverage is not particularly good at the end of the drive.

Me: “How’s it going?”

Him: “OK. Sorry. I stuck my truck. (Something nobody out here ever wants to admit.)

Me: “Did you see our sign saying your GPS was wrong and to turn around?”

Him: “I did. That’s when I stopped and decided to just cut across the field.”

Me: Looking at the wheel hanging off the drop off  – “You decided to cut across my field in your truck after seeing a sign telling you turn around.”

Him: …silence… …more silence… then finally, “Yes. I thought it would be easier. I didn’t see the drop off until it was too late.” … silence…  “Sorry.”

Me: (Thinking to myself, “How fast were you going that you couldn’t see the three-foot drop off?” Then chuckling to myself and thinking, “Yea. Fast enough to be stupid. Two feet to the right and you would have hit the boulders partially covered by grass.”)

And that is when I thought of Harry, and Africa, and laughed out loud. I remembered his wise words as they came to life right here at Rohan Farm – “GPS tells you the road. It does not tell you there is a hole in the road.”

The father looked at me a bit strangely.

 Me (still laughing): “Wait here. I’ll bring my truck and a chain and pull you out.”

 At the barn, I loaded the chain into the the truck and returned to the scene of the crime. Two minutes later, I had him out. I shook hands with him and his son. I think I smiled when I shook hands with the boy. I wished them a good day and told them both to be safe. I almost said, “watch out for lions,” but they wouldn’t have understood the joke.

 They slowly backed out the drive onto Enon School Road and then turned right on Swains Road. We waved at each other as they passed. Thinking of Harry and his old African proverb, I smiled.

Addendum:

Here is one other story involving Harry. He was a great guide. Receiving a special delivery, while in a boat on the Khwai River:  https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/11/09/a-delivery-on-the-khwai-river/