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Words and photos by Shane Quinnell and Videos by Tarryn Quinnell unless otherwise credited.

I never used to think about lifelines, about safety. I used to wander off into the mountains to trail run, paraglide and ride, on my own, sometimes without people knowing where I was going. I cruised South America with a friend on a motorbike for nearly 15,000km over two months with poor Spanish and no satellite phone, many times nearly running out of fuel deep in remote deserts. I used to listen with detachment to people going on and on about safety and backup plans. I went on adventures to get away from the world, not to stay in contact with it. Call me arrogant but I was just ignorant, and it felt free.

The land of the free, away from the world and technology, near Lumangwe Falls, Zambia.Even here we have our lifelines with us.

Today things are different. The school of hard rocks made sure of that two years back when without warning a dust devil dropped me and my paraglider out the sky, breaking my back and obliterating both my ankles. I was lucky to be alive.

I had two golden personal rules which I tried as often as possible to follow when paragliding: One, “never paraglide alone and if you do, tell someone where you are going,” and two “always make sure you have private medical aid that will cover your activity.”

My obliterated ankles after smashing into the mountain.

It wasn’t being stuck in hospital for many weeks or in a wheelchair for three months which changed my mind. It was the hour I spent lying alone on the side of a remote mountain with a missing phone, a malfunctioning radio and the most discomforting feeling in the world radiating from my broken back.

The pins put into my back after the accident fused three of my vertebrae.

Following these rules that fateful day possibly saved me from death due to exposure as the mates I was flying with saw me crash, managed to find me and get me emergency care. They also definitely saved me an extended, lonely, painful stay on a mountain and from either being in debt the rest of my life or having to brave South Africa’s infamous public hospital system for serious surgery as I had decent medical aid. I didn’t know it at the time but these rules I flew by were my lifelines; the things that kept me safe when the brown stuff started scattering.

With the gift of hindsight, Tarryn and I realised while planning Suzuki Africa Sky High, building and implementing lifelines was one of the most important things we had to do. With this mind-set, we have done our best to follow the saying “plan for the worst, expect the best.”

The fateful day, a photo taken of me about 1.5 hours after crashing just before I got carried off for months of treatment.

I had two personal golden rules which I tried as often as possible to follow when paragliding: One, “never paraglide alone and if you do, tell someone where you are going,” and two “always make sure you have private medical aid that will cover your activity.”…I didn’t know it at the time but these rules I flew by were my lifelines; the things that kept me safe when the brown stuff started scattering.

Shane Quinnell

Team Tane

Our plan relies on a number of key components. Each are integral to the success of us being able to get assistance if the worst happens during Suzuki Africa Sky High. These components are:

  1. Knowledge and Training: The old adage about it being better to avoid problems than fix them, is very true for remote emergencies. Before we left we did training in First Aid, chatted to paramedic friends and did lots of research. We found the information provided by International SOS particularly useful for both medical and security purposes. In addition to the information they provided before we left, we check their website and usually contact them before entering new areas and always get useful advice.
  2. Communication: The first part of resolving any emergency is being able to communicate to the outside world that you need help. Our infrastructure is:
    • Tracks4Africa Spot Satellite Tracker – The spot unit sends GPS pins for people to track us about every 5 minutes. Both Tracks4Africa and our parents monitor this data and alert our emergency responders if too much time elapses without contact. The tracker also has functions which can be programmed. The functions we have are; “We OK,” “Mechanical Emergency,” “Medical Emergency,” and “SOS,” each of which when activated, send messages to preprogramed contacts for assistance.
    • SmartGrid Satellite Modem – Very important to communicate the details of problems to get proper assistance. We are using a satellite modem which can be used for emergency calls from SmartGrid with data from Globecomm.

      Our SPOT GPS tracker from Track4Africa keeps people in touch with where we are. Help is just a button away.

  3. Emergency Response: Having put out the call you need someone who can come and get you, however remote you are. Our first line of defence is having International SOS who can, talk us through the problem or organise evacuations, at our back to. We have their number on speed dial in our SmartGrid modem and linked to the SOS and medical functions of our Tracks4Africa tracker. Once our signals get to them they help organise assistance or evacuation. We have evacuation insurance with them under a travel plan to cover any costs.
  4. Treatment: This includes any assistance you require post stabilisation. This is generally not covered by evacuation companies like International SOS and will likely require private health insurance. Make sure your insurer covers the region you are travelling to and the activities you are doing.

International SOS looking after us on our trip, in this case keeping us dry under the Lumangwe Falls.

It can be boring and tedious but thinking about lifelines is something, with the benefit of hindsight, we STRONGLY suggest. I personally have been involved with enough rescues to inherently know their importance. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the side of a mountain, broken, wondering if someone will find you. Learn my lesson; enjoy the wilderness responsibly.

You can find out more about International SOS and check out the options for renting a SPOT tracker from Tracks4Africa or chat to SmartGrid using the contacts in the following links:

International SOS:, ISOS South Africa:
Tracks4Africa:, you can buy the SD cards and maps at most outdoor stores;
SmartGrid Technologies:


Gliding on Water

Gliding on Water


Words and photos by Shane Quinnell and Videos by Tarryn Quinnell unless otherwise credited.

Don’t miss the awesome short video at the end which captures this story. 

It was still early when the giant, extended wheelbase Landcruiser, our ride to the Okavango, rolled off the main road from Maun and onto the dirt road towards the village. Along with Tarryn’s folks, Grant and Debbie, we were the only people filling the twelve seater.

The Okavango Delta is a huge marshland area in Northern Botswana. A very important area naturally, the area hosts a huge variety of wildlife from birds to the giant African mammals like the Hippo, Elephant and Giraffe.

Tarryn and I scoping out the Okavango and looking at the giraffe on the far side of the river. Photo: Grant Stevenson

Within a short distance from the road we came across the first of many water crossings over the veins of the Okavango. From first sight it was clear the Okavango’s reputation for wildlife was well founded. Life was everywhere. In a minute we spotted numerous bird species including Pied Kingfishers, multiple species of Herons and Cranes and Fish Eagles. The lush landscape glinted in the morning light from the moisture in the ground and local people moved on the banks looking for fish. It was beautiful, it even smelled pristine.


We drove on and after a few water crossings deep enough to submerge half of the Landcruiser, making its exhaust sound like a submersible, reached the village. We were happy we didn’t bring our Jimny, Badger, on this excursion. He might be tough as nails but we didn’t want to drown him.

The village we were at was one of the local polling stations, a hub for Macora activity in the area and a gateway to the Okavango. Macoras are the local name for the dugout canoes which the locals throughout the Northern Botswanan and Southern Zambian regions use to navigate the waterways. Rivers and swamps. Though traditionally made from trees, in Botswana, they are now commonly fibreglass in an attempt by the Government to reduce deforestation and promote sustainable tourism. From what we saw they were 3-4m long and on average only 50cm wide with a flat bottom to enable them to move in shallow water. Rather than using paddles as you would in a Kayak, they move the boats by using wooden poles to push off the swamp floor as they are much more effective in the shallow water. This has led to the guides being given the name “polers.”

From the first moment we met our polers, Heaven and Leon, we were impressed both with them and the initiatives set up around the Macora tourism. It was clear the guides were exceptionally knowledgeable about the flora and fauna of the area and cared about their impact and conservation. “This is our home and our lives, we need to protect it,” said Heaven.


It was clear the guides were exceptionally knowledgeable about the flora and fauna of the area and cared about their impact and conservation. “This is our home and our lives, we need to protect it,” said Heaven.


Poler, Okavango Poling Trust

Hanging our with our Polers; Heaven left and Leon right.

With guiding principles and introductions aside, we poled off. Once we were out from the reeds and into the open water Heaven found his rhythm. He pushed off the ground with strong but graceful thrusts, smoothly propelling us forward in rhythmic bursts. We were not moving through but gliding on the water.

It wasn’t long till we heard and then saw our first pod of hippo. There were about three to four of them in the water, their eyes and snouts visible above the water line intermittently as they bobbed up to catch a breath. Hippos being her favourite animals, Tarryn was in her element. “They are like oversized cuddly piggies, but demanding the respect of space,” she says.

We moved on, pausing often to view birds, photograph scenery and chat. We soon heard more hippos. Heaven, now understanding Tarryn’s affection for them, paddled in their direction. This time we found far more than previously; probably sixteen in two different pods.

We sat and gawked at the gigantic animals in amazement. Keeping about fifty meters between us and the hippos, our guides kept a close eye. It might sound a long way but when you consider we were in a tiny canoe watching and a bunch of Africa’s most dangerous animals, you realise it’s not that far at all.

Tarryn’s cuddly friends; Africa’s deadliest animal. The dicotomy pretty well sums up my wife ;).

Once we were safely away from the Hippos I asked Heaven for a turn at poling. Miscalculating how tippy the boats were, I nearly capsized the Macora before I even started. Shortly afterwards I managed to accidently smack Heaven on the head with the pole which caused an eruption of laughter. Luckily things improved from there and though I can’t claim I was ever graceful, I got us around for about twenty minutes without giving myself or my passengers unwanted swims.

We stopped at a large island for lunch and an informative walk where the poler’s taught us about local plant, animals and showed us how to track using prints and dung. We found some giraffe and zebra which we watched for a time before moving off.

With that, our day was drawing to a close, it was time to go home. We turned and headed back. We had been privileged to have an amazing day and meet some of the incredible animals who call our continent home. We left happy knowing that Botswana and the polers were doing their part to preserve their precious environment.

Dawn – Part 2

Dawn – Part 2

Words and photos by Shane Quinnell and Videos by Tarryn Quinnell unless otherwise credited.

Note: This is Part 2 in a two-part blog series titled “Dawn,” it continues from Part 1 which can be found here We suggest you read Part 1 first but it is completely up to you 🙂. Enjoy the read.

We had seen a few ridiculously dirty 4x4 vehicles passing us the other way as we drove toward Kubu Island from the Khama sanctuary. We also knew Botswana had experienced a particularly wet season, so knew we were in for water on our way from Kubu Island to Maun. Little did we know the extent…

Deciding it was necessary to find out a bit more before we braved the pans, we located and chatted to the caretaker from the Makgadikgadi Adventure Camp. He had seen two cars pass through two days previous so assumed the road was passable but mentioned he could guide us around the pan for R100 (about $10).

The African sky rages with beautiful colours during sunrise the morning we left Kubu.

We decided to drive down the dirt road to check it out. We got to the pan to find what looked like a kilometer wide lake containing a host of wildlife. It looked more like a wetland nature sanctuary than a salt pan.  We chatted for a couple of minutes about the prospect of attempting to cross it before unanimously deciding that it wasn’t worth it if we had a backup option. We returned to find our friend.

He guided us along another road and down some minor cattle tracks. We wound between thick thorn bush and bounced off rocks all the while thanking the Wizerd smash plates and Tough Dog suspension for protecting our tough but little Suzuki, Badger. After about twenty minutes our guide pulled off. We thanked him, paid him and said our goodbyes.

Connections are made and deals are struck, language is the key to interaction. Shane tries to learn Setswana off King George; Kubu Island’s caretaker. (Photo: Tarryn Quinnell)

He guided us along another road and down some minor cattle tracks. We wound between thick thorn bush and bounced off rocks all the while thanking the Wizerd smash plates and Tough Dog suspension for protecting our tough but little Suzuki, Badger. After about twenty minutes our guide pulled off. We thanked him, paid him and said our goodbyes.


We got to the pan to find what looked like a kilometer wide lake containing a host of wildlife….There was another flooded pan directly in front of him. This one far larger than the last. Bugger.

Shane Quinnell

Team Tane

A short while later we drove back onto a dry cracked pan and rolled on. Suddenly, Grant started breaking in front of us. Tarryn hit the brakes but despite her slow speed just kept going, straight toward the hulk. At the last minute, her wheels caught and she slid off the minor track to a stop, just missing the back of the Hulk. Lesson learned; in muddy conditions maintain a BIG distance and use gears to stop. Her fright at almost hitting the Hulk was enough for her to hand the keys over to me.

We hopped out Badger wondering why Grant stopped. Then we saw why. It was déjà vu. There was another flooded pan directly in front of him. This one far larger than the last. Bugger

Tarryn starting the great trek across the mighty swap pan. The far side of the pan is just visible on the horizon.

We checked the map and found our friendly guide had only directed us around the first pan (see our route on our Tracks4Africa Live Map on our home page). The first of many. The largest one was right in front of us. We scratched our heads and wondered what to do. ‘Do we go back and make a giant detour or take the risk?’

We decided to check it out. With that Tarryn and her mother, Debbie, were out of the cars, shoes off and walking through the mud. I joined for a short while to get a feel. The mud was sludgy and slippery. This was going to be interesting. Whatever the case if we attempted it, we would need to maintain momentum or we were in big trouble.

Tarryn and Debbie proceeded towards the far side of the lake. Grant and I watched them through our binoculars waiting for the agreed signal, stomachs in knots. Then they turned and both arms went up. That was it, the signal. It was game time.

A regular and very necessary occurrence on the pans; cleaning grass from underneath the car to make sure it does not catch fire. (Photo: Debbie Stevenson)

With that Grant who had been letting down his tyres gave me a nervous smile, hopped into the Hulk and was off.

He hit the water with speed, spraying mud and salt water everywhere. He kept going, and going and going. I watched through my binoculars as he finally reached the other side. I thought, ‘thank goodness,’ then I realised it was my turn. My stomach lurched.

I took a deep breath, got into Badger, engaged low range and released the hand brake. I knew I had to make it to the far side, failing was not an option. Failing meant we would likely be there hours or even days before getting out. It meant we would have to use our shiny new VRS winch to try get out. If that failed Grant and Debbie would have to drive on to find someone, somewhere with a tractor to help pull us. Both which were ridiculously unlikely finds. Failing meant Tarryn and I would more than likely have to leave Badger in the wetland and spend a cold uncomfortable night sleeping on the bank with who knew what kind of animals nearby.

With that I pushed the accelerator and started moving. I changed to third and found a comfortable speed. I hit the mud. I felt Badger sink as he hit the extra resistance before finding traction and moving on. Whpew!

Badger tears his way through the epic swampy pans like the little beastly Suzuki he is!! (Photo: Debbie Stevenson)

I was just getting comfortable with the mud when I hit the water. The spray was massive; at times completely covering the windscreen and rendering me blind. I hit the wipers full blast and got my vision back. I tried to slow slightly to reduce the spray but felt Badger starting to struggle so hit the pedal again. Once or twice I hit deep sections and felt the mud hit the bottom of the car but Badger just kept going.

One-quarter through… half way… Three-quarters. The bank was getting nearer, my confidence growing. Then finally, as if a gift from nowhere I hit hard ground; the far side of the pan. WHOOOOHOOOOO!We were through in one piece. Damn, it felt good, despite having mild shakes from the adrenaline.

Tarryn ran over. We all patted each other on the back and shared war stories. We had made it across the pan, which turned out to be nearly one kilometer wide, and in turn avoided what would likely have been a cold night on a muddy, wet pan.

Our small yet ferocious Suzuki Jimny Badger after the epic achievement of crossing the wetland pans… Our confidence and respect for him grows daily.

Celebrations came to an end as we realised how much farther we had to drive. We moved on. We hit a few more sections of mud and water but having succeeded the worst of it, we hardly blinked.

The remainder of the journey to Maun was relatively uneventful though we did help pull start a local, see some ancient and incredible Baobabs and encounter the largest herd of Zebra one can imagine in the middle of nowhere. Like something out of Tarzan, they galloped next to us along the pans.

Our friends. The huge, mysterious herd of Zebras we met on the Makgadikgadi Pans.

We reached Maun, dirty and tired but happy. As dusk fell, the second dawn crept up on us. The dawn of consciousness. Our experiences that day taught us two fundamental things. One, ‘Africa truly is phenomenal,’ and two, ‘attempting Africa alone is a significant undertaking’

In my experience, ignorance and optimism are often more powerful than confidence when it comes to taking the plunge, to making progress. Up till now, we relied on these traits. For the first time, we were slightly daunted by our plans. We gained a deep respect for Africa and our undertaking. We decided from now on, this would be our guiding force.

The video below shows the action detailed in the blog as it happened. Check it out! You can find more on our You tube channel (, please subscribe. 

Dawn – Part 1

Dawn – Part 1

Words and Photos by Shane Quinnell, Team Tane

Dawn is an incredible time of day. It heralds the start of a new day, new possibilities. It lights up the land and brings the beautiful colours of opportunity.

For Tarryn and I the quote from Batman (a deep movie I know) “the darkest hour comes before dawn,” rang true. Our darkest hour of teething pains came just before we left, and faded the day we headed North for the interior of our great continent, Africa. Our dawn had arrived with our departure and the colours, sights and sounds were incredible. They rang of our present freedom and the endless prospects which awaited us on our journey, Suzuki Africa Sky High.

Dawn the day of our departure… Damn it felt good to be on the road.

Our lack of experience on African Overland trips became apparent before we even left, when we found I had accidently packed our Tracks 4 Africa (T4A) (4x4 GPS tracks for Africa) SD card into our storage unit. We were fortunate however, to have Tarryn’s folks, Grant and Debbie, join us for the first twelve days of our trip with their Hilux, ‘The Hulk.’ Despite not being leather skinned nor wearing khaki, both Grant and Debbie are experienced Southern African overlanders, who have spent many days travelling the backroads of Southern Africa. They also both had a copy of T4A. So naturally, until we got a new copy in Maun, Botswana, they became our navigators.

Debbie and Grant, Tarryn’s folks and, for the first two weeks, our navigators ;).

Despite our lack of experience, however, we successfully, fairly easily fitted eight months’ worth of camping equipment, all of our Osprey packs and Black Diamond climbing gear, into our slight Suzuki Jimny. Thereby proving our notion that Suzuki Jimny’s have enough space to pack everything you need for an extended overland trip.

The days we spent with Grant and Debbie were nothing short of incredible. Our first hurdle, Martin’s Drift; the SA Botswana border, was a breeze. We were out within 30 minutes. We got through to Khama Rhino Sactuary, had a celebratory beer and proceeded to encounter five White Rhinos and a bunch of other game. Our first afternoon on the road and Africa was already sharing her secrets. It great to learn how the Presidency of Botswana (Ian Khama) was behind the battle against rhino poaching and fully supportive of the protection of their country’s wildlife. It was obvious this approach was working. One can only hope that one day South Africa will recognise this and do the same.

One of the amazing birds from the Khama Sanctuary.

The second morning Tarryn and I, who constantly lagged behind her super-efficient parents, drove the deep sand road toward the

Baobas by dusk light, an incredible sight with an ancient feel.

sanctuary’s gate to catch up with her folks who were already there waiting. On the way we almost ploughed straight into a leopard who was crouched in the middle of the road stalking an impala. I fumbled my lenses to try get a photo as the leopard eyed us angrily for upsetting his breakfast and stalked off. I missed the shot but maintained the memory of the incredible encounter.

Following our chance encounter we left Khama toward Lekhubu (Kubu) Island, the Island of the Baobabs. We soon learnt why T4A was mandatory and how important Wizerd’s and Opposite Lock’s modifications were.

We lost sight of the Hulk a few times enroute. Without a detailed map or T4A, we had almost no idea where to go. We were in a sea of sand with overhead bushes and criss-crossing paths, not knowing which to take. When we finally found the Hulk, Tarryn and I vowed never again to forget T4A!

Kubu Island was like something of a daydream. Imagine a semi-desolate, semi-arid island, covered in baobabs, located in the middle of sprawling salt pans and you are pretty much spot on. Before we had properly stopped, Tarryn was out of Badger on her way up the rocks towards the closest Baobab, hammock in hand. It was the thought of hanging out in our hammock under a baobab which got us through the teething we described in the last blog (see the blog:

Two of the giant gnarled Baobabs we found on the mysterious Kubu Island.

There was something about the gnarled Baobabs which made the island feel ancient, which gave it a certain vibe. The teething stress melted away. We were in Africa and loving it!

After witnessing a spectacular Sunset and waking at first light to an equally spectacular sunrise it was, unfortunately, time to move on. I hate to do this to you but, you will have to wait till part two to read the riveting next section… Its coming soon.

Check out the EPIC Youtube video below to help you get over us leaving you hanging on the blog :). 



Words and Photos by Shane Quinnell unless otherwise credited.

Much like puberty, teething is something each and every single one of us will go through in our lifetimes. Unlike puberty, however, almost none of us can actually remember our own teething experience. Rather we experience it through stories told to us by our parents, their friends, or maybe via the experiences of other kids when we are old enough to remember it. Whatever the case, the consensus is; teething is tough.

My experience in life is that teething is not only experienced when we actually grow teeth. We experience it each and every time we try something new and grow from it. With this in mind, it’s safe to say Tarryn and I have been teething.

Tarryn getting high on the side of Cape Town’s twelve apostles during a training session up a climb called Slanghoulie frontal in preparation for Mt Kenya. One of her first times leading trad climbing.

The last few months of our lives have been a blur of planning, actions, obstacles and finally long awaited results. All of this activity has been fuelled by a decade long dream to experience the “real Africa,” by doing an EPIC overland trip 20,000km long and in the middle attempt Africa’s five highest mountains.

“While we appear confident in what we are doing… we are pretty fresh off the print…much of what we are doing is new to us.”

Shane and Tarryn Quinnell - Team Tane

The truth is that while we appear confident in what we are doing, we actually haven’t done anything like this many times… ever. Yes we have climbed in Cape Town and attempted Mt Kenya, yes we have travelled quite a bit and done road trips in Badger to Lesotho, Mozambique and Swaziland, but really we are pretty fresh off the print.

Unlike the veterans of the African bush who wear khaki and whose skin looks and probably is as hard as leather, much of what we are doing is new to us. Through Wizerd and Suzuki Bryanston we recently learnt to drive a 4x4 over things more daunting than a speed hump; through Opposite Lock, how to fit a solar panel to a battery system and through Suzuki South Africa, how to do a proper service on our own little Jimny, “Badger.”

Ashley from Wizerd grinds one of Badger’s plates to help fit the new winch from Opposite Lock. Taken during the long hours I spent in the workshop helping retrofit our little guy.

Between us, Tarryn and I only recently learnt how to use Photoshop, use a GoPro and edit videos properly, and how on earth to build a website. Finally and possibly most poignantly, Tarryn only recently learnt how to lead ‘trad climb (short for traditional climb; the style where you have to place your own protection),’ which is mandatory to climb Mt Kenya.

As I am sure you can imagine, all of this learning has at times left us close to redlining with our overheating brains threatening to melt and drip down our faces. This was particularly true in the last week where we spent hours, and I mean HOURS, at Suzuki and Wizerd’s and underneath and inside Badger, on Skype with Smartgrid figuring out their satellite modem, talking about emergency response plans with International SOS, learning how to load the awesome Tracks4Africa live map onto our website and trying to import our Mont Bell sponsored apparel from Japan. The patience and support we have been shown has been remarkable.

Me underneath Badger at midday the day before our departure struggling to fit the fridge National Luna lent us for the entire 8-month trip when ours kicked it the night before… Incredible generosity! Photo: Desray, National Luna

Nevertheless, despite all the craziness and the odds, which frequently looked insurmountable, here we are on day eight of our dream; Suzuki Africa Sky High. We can’t say that the teething has stopped, it hasn’t. We are still figuring ourselves out, still optimising our packing space and growing our relationship with Badger, but the learning curve and teething pains have slowed. The most important thing though is that we are here, in Botswana, doing it and loving it! We made it.

Faces of some of the most important people behind our mission taken during our launch, from left to right; Ryno (Suzuki Bryanston), me and Tarryn, Monty (Wizerd), Charl and Megan (our headline sponsor – Suzuki!), Jaco (Frontrunner), Darrell (Opposite Lock). Notice our awesome sign printed by ChannelPrint. Photo: Suzuki

To conclude, in our experience living your dreams is possible. The only catch is that it requires a huge amount of hard work both from you and the world around you. The truth is we could not have done and be doing this alone and have to take this opportunity to thank all the amazing people who are behind us. Firstly, our great sponsors who helped make our expedition possible. Then companies like Bridgestone (who are now a sponsor) Front Runner, National Luna and Channel Print who stepped in when it counted, i.e. in the last week, to respectively, assist us with much needed new tyres, toughen up our roof rack, lend us a working fridge when ours failed a day before departure and print us a banner for the mountain summits. Finally and most importantly we want to thank you; our family, friends and followers who have shown interest in our dream, liked our stories and commented our pictures. As much as this journey is for us, it is for you. Without your interest and belief in what we are doing, the fire of our passion would be long dead. After all, what good is a story if no one wants to hear it?

With this, we thank each and everyone who has helped us and look forward to sharing our dream with you, in the hope of inspiring you to embark on your own and share it with us. 

Keep an eye out for our next blog where we give you the inside to life on the road living our dream.