In deconstructing yesterday’s debacle, the thought crossed my mind that I was an unmitigated idiot… anyone knows you shouldn’t mess around with clay soils in weather like this. The following photos illustrate quite well just how crazy the morning was before we got to the point where I got us stuck. We’re crossing a river that is dry for about 11 months of the year, that had chosen that morning to become a watery, muddy landcruiser trap. Through blind luck or something we did actually get through that. Ernest was quietly taking snapshots from the passenger seat, presumably resigning himself to the tedium that he surely knew was coming.