Chapter 21 - No Brakes, No Brakes!

“In journeyings often, in perils of water, . . . in perils

in the wilderness,…”

—2 Corinthians 11:26

Although it happened twenty-five years ago, it

seems as though our living nightmare happened
yesterday. Linda, Angie, Jr., Joy and I were
living in the town of Aboisso. The Lord had blessed
us with a soul-winning church with Ghanaian refugees
who had fled from war in their native country.
Approximately a month before the event that I am
going to recall, I had a new seven hundred dollar
engine installed in our Volkswagen van.
    One afternoon a man in our church asked if I
   would be willing to take a battery to his brother in
another village where his truck had broken down.
I agreed to help and enlisted some additional help
from a few of the men in our church to make it a
merrier trip, not knowing that I was in for the adventure
of a lifetime.
    It was just a little after one o’clock in the afternoon,
and I thought we had enough time to get to
the village and back before dark, since I had been
informed that the road was good all the way. But
I had forgotten that “good” in an African language
usually meant “bad” in my native language!
    We loaded up the battery and took off down a
paved highway. About an hour into our trip, one of
the men said he knew a shortcut that would save
about an hour of driving time. I asked, “Is the road
good?” the reply was, “The road has just been
resurfaced.” With this exchange, I was thinking
pavement, while he was thinking red dirt. At first,
the road was smooth, but after we entered the rain
forest, the resurfaced road ended. Furthermore, it
began raining so hard that we were forced to stop
and wait an hour for the rain to let up.
    We headed out again but soon encountered large
holes filled with water. One man got out to check
the depth of the water, but when he misjudged one
whole of water, the rear end of the Volkswagen
sank into the water and the engine gurgled to a stop.
There we sat, in the middle of the rain forest with a
brand-new engine flooded with water. Oh my, what
have I gotten myself into? I silently lamented.
    The six of us pushed the van out of the deep mud
hole. Then I removed the spark plugs and let the
engine turn over to blow the water out of the cylinders.
I reinstalled the plugs, and the engine fired right
off. (But later, when the engine began running badly,
I was reminded that there was sand in the water, and
it had ruined that brand-new engine—ouch!)
    Again I asked, “Is the road good from here to the
village?” and I got the same answer as before.
    “Yes, yes, Pastor, the road is good,” they assured
me. They have been working on the road and resurfacing
it, so we can go.”
    We headed out of the rain forest and onto the
newly resurfaced road—a red dirt road, that is.
You know what rain does to red dirt, don’t you?
Yes, the road was nothing but red mud. We slogged
through the mud until we came to a hill, which
stopped us dead in our tracks. What should we do
now? We were buried in mud and could not move.
So one of the men walked to the next village for
help and soon returned with twenty men trailing
behind him. Working together, we basically carried
the Volkswagen to where the red mud ended. We
thanked the men and were on our way again.
    Finally arriving at the village, we discovered that
the brother we had gone to help had managed to start
his truck and was already headed back to Aboisso
via another route. We left and soon caught up with
him. There we discovered that his battery was not
the cause of his problem but the clutch. We decided
to hook his truck to the back of my van and tow him
to Aboisso. I asked the man whether his truck had
good brakes and also inquired about his emergency
brake. He assured me that all worked perfectly, but
I should have known that he meant when the brakes
were working, they worked perfectly. Nevertheless,
we got underway for the trip home.
    For a while all went well, but then we came to a
red mud hill. I stopped my vehicle and again asked
the man with the truck about his brakes. And again
he assured me that they worked perfectly. As we
started down the long hill, which was slicker than
a peeled onion, I noticed a gas tanker at the bottom
that obviously could not make it up the hill. But we
had enough room to get by, I judged.
    All was going well until I noticed that the truck
we were towing was passing me. I really could not
believe my eyes. The driver and his passenger were
screaming, “No brakes, no brakes!” Now we were
in a real mess.
    “Lord, help!” I yelled. As we headed for the
tanker, I immediately slammed on my brakes, tightening
the cable and causing both vehicles to spin
around and slide down the hill backward. The truck
flipped onto its top, and my van flipped onto its side
as we slid wildly down the hill. I was thinking about
the gas tanker at the bottom, but by God’s grace, we
slid right past the tanker and jolted to a complete
stop.
    There we lay almost facedown in red mud with a
bunch of church members lying on top of me. Was
this close fellowship or what? The other men started
crawling out of the van, and I was finally able to
free myself and join them. It was only by the grace
of God that none of us in the van were hurt. One of
the men in the truck, however, was bleeding from
his face and another man from his lips.
    What have I gotten myself into? I wondered
again. It was only supposed to be an easy ride to
the village and back, and now it was dark and we
were stranded on a mud hill with the van lying on
its side, and the truck lying on its top. In addition,
the truck driver had been hauling goats. Goats were
everywhere, and some of them were dead.
    One of the church members volunteered to run to
the next village to get help. In about thirty minutes,
he returned with a group of men who took hold of
my Volkswagen and flipped it upright. I unhooked
the cable from the truck, and the men flipped it onto
its wheels and moved it to the side of the road. I
started the van and turned it around for home. Then
I said, “Whosoever wants a ride get in, because this
train is headed home.” So many piled in, there was
hardly breathing room. The truck driver wanted to
take the goats with us, but I refused! We dropped off
the men who had come from the village to help us,
thanked them, and headed home.
    It was late before I finally made it home, and
Linda said she had been worried to death that something
had happened to us. I filled her in on the day’s
events and then showed her the side of the van. It
had a few minor dents and red mud everywhere
from sliding down the hill, but at least we had all
survived our great adventure.
    “Thank You, Lord, for Your protection!” we
rejoiced. This was one trip I will never forget!

(Copyright by Jay B Ayers)