Too late, the driver of the open-top Jeep Wrangler realised he had misjudged the steepness of the huge sand-dune. With a sense of inevitability, he and his passenger held on tight as the vehicle rolled over and over down the soft sand before coming to rest on its roof.
Rescuers arriving on the scene a few seconds later found the occupants shaken, unhurt but frustrated. They wanted to be under way again. Before long, two 4x4s arrived with electric winches and pulled the Wrangler on to its wheels. Less than 20 minutes after crashing, it was disappearing into the distance.
Welcome to the annual two-day desert endurance rally between Dubai and Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates. The main organiser, the Gulf News, likes to call it a fun drive - but try telling that to the owners of the 26 vehicles that broke down in the desert this year, and the countless others that turned back when they realised conditions were too tough.
The 25th running of the event took place two weeks ago when 750 4x4s sped across the start line at the Dubai motor-racing circuit. Most participants were seasoned offroaders, including some rally drivers. But there were also plenty of novices - some with families on board - wanting to test their vehicles against the desert.
The route is not particularly long: about 65 km the first day and 125 km the second. But what it lacks in distance it compensates for with conditions: harsh scrub and tall, endless dunes stretching beyond the horizon. It being midwinter in the region, temperatures were moderate but warm enough to overheat some vehicles and occupants.
The course mainly follows old Bedouin trading routes, and the appearance of occasional camel trains during the two days suggested some families still pursue the traditional ways. Despite route markers, it's easy to get lost. One dune looks much like another. One of the pleasures of the event is sitting on top of a tall dune, watching dozens of vehicles buzzing around in the distance, trying to find their way.
Organisers are aware of the dangers. All vehicles must carry a large red sticker on the roof, so they are visible to the spotter planes constantly buzzing over the desert while the event is on. There are 65 marshal vehicles, ready to redirect, offer medical assistance and drag trapped vehicles out of the sand. And for those that break down, there are recovery vehicles to carry them away from the bedlam.
Almost every imaginable kind of 4x4 takes part in the event, including dune buggies. About half the vehicles, though, are Toyotas. The Japanese manufacturer has undertaken a huge 4x4 sales push in the region and is now the dominant brand. Money is everywhere in Dubai - in the huge shopping mall and residential developments springing up all over the emirate, the stunning golf courses reclaimed from the desert, and, most recently, in the towering indoor snow-skiing centre. Given the booming economy and cheap fuel, small cars are not popular. Offroad vehicles are to be seen everywhere.
This sense of wealth was summed up by Syed Javed Afzal, a medical doctor turned businessman. He went out and bought a spanking-new LandCruiser just for the rally. Once it was over, he went back to driving his Mercedes-Benz.
Perhaps it's this sense of endless wealth that makes locals drive the way they do. Many expatriates - including several South Africans - take part in the rally. For them, the idea is to have fun and complete the course. For Emiratis, the aim appears to be to drive as fast as possible and make a corresponding amount of noise.
They are obviously having fun; the high-revving engines and loud voices attest to that. But some are almost oblivious to anything around them. I lost count of the number of times other drivers, fighting for momentum to get through thick sand, were forced to jam on brakes as Emirati "cowboys" drove across their paths.
It wasn't surprising, therefore, that locals accounted for most of the breakdowns - mainly through overheated engines and transmission and electrical failure. Vehicle casualties extended across most brands: Jeep, Ford and Range Rover seemed to bear the brunt of breakdowns. A solitary Porsche Cayenne failed to survive. But at least they all avoided the fate of a Nissan Pathfinder that overturned with a family on board. No-one was hurt.
In fact, there were no casualties this year, beyond a few cuts and bruises. In the past, there have been serious injuries, even deaths. But these all relate to people driving like lunatics.
I was in a team driving a Toyota Prado. By steering clear of idiots, we got through the event without undue drama. The only hiccup came when one of my co-drivers (whom I shan't shame because he's a well-known SA offroad specialist) got us stuck at the base of a dune on the second day. Ironically, the first people to come to our aid were an SA couple from Cape Town.
Safe, though, doesn't mean boring. Sections of the course stretch man and machine to the limit. Sometimes it means pushing the engine to its extreme. Or it can mean trudging across the hot sand on foot to make sure no unexpected dangers lurk over the top of the next dune. You must be patient. It's exhausting, but also thrilling. Sometimes too thrilling. A blanket of thick desert fog on the second morning meant vehicles that set out before marshals could stop them were literally driving blind.
The logistics of the event are impressive. Organisers built a veritable mini-city in the middle of the desert for the overnight stop. A team of chefs laid on hot dinner and breakfast for 2 000 people, next to a sound-stage for DJs and entertainers. Massive sleeping tents provided shelter for hundreds of participants. Those who preferred a night under the sky were warned to be alert for scorpions. A damning fact for one of the South Africans taking part: there was no alcohol for sale. The Emirates are so Westernised, it's easy to forget sometimes that they are also Muslim. But it's only the sale that's taboo; there's nothing to stop you taking a cooler box full of "refreshment".
