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The challenge is now pretty clear. Across the rocky passes, the drive was tentative, cautious and constantly wary. No man left behind. Here it’s all about speed, committing to a route, and taking no prisoners. Every man for themselves. I understand that now.
As the hours tick by, the desert takes its toll. The sun beating down unremittingly through the windows – and during the sporadic moments when I stretch my legs – has taken its toll on my ever-reddening forearms and face. The factor 50 is empty, I’m starting to run out of water, and hours in the heat have left me surprisingly fatigued. Hitting the dunes at speed means I’ve been thrown around the cabin almost unceasingly, despite the supportive seats. And try as I may to avoid it, I get stuck. Again. And again. And again.
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The Armada’s fared better than I, but the battle scars are there. Dust has completely coated the interior, the front number plate is broken, and sand has lodged itself into most of the instruments. Including, rather worryingly, the gearbox.
And I’m enjoying myself immensely. The thrill of the off-road dash has been an amazing experience. Long, hard, and certainly not one to be taken lightly, but amazing nonetheless.
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And it occurs to me as the sun starts to drop that the Armada is a vehicle ideally suited for this occasion. Something lighter and more nimble might have enveloped the driver within the experience, true, but the Nissan’s raw power, gutsy performance and resilient nature means its gone from A to B across unforgiving ground without so much as breaking stride. On the road it may feel big and maybe a bit cumbersome, but on the beaten track, this particular SUV holds its own. The Armada IS its own arsenal. And after everything we’ve been through, I can’t help but respect that.
It was another couple of hours before I eventually made it to the final checkpoint. At the time I didn’t know how many kilometres were left, but it didn’t matter. The Nissan Armada LE had already taken on the world after all. A little more wouldn’t hurt.
