Mounties EMS

18/05/2026

🎓 They were on their way to graduation…
…but somewhere between the N2 and adulthood, the car decided:
“Today feels less like a road trip and more like the opening scene of San Andreas: KwaZulu-Natal Edition.” 🌧️🌪️🚗😂

Thursday morning.
09:30.

KwaZulu-Natal weather doing what KwaZulu-Natal weather does best — trying to personally es**rt the entire province into the Indian Ocean.

Then the call comes through:
🚨 “Vehicle overturned.”
Immediately adrenaline kicks in.
Uniform on.
Keys grabbed.
Phone exploding nonstop.

Then suddenly…
📱 MY PHONE STARTS CALLING ME.
Now listen… for one terrifying second I genuinely thought:
“Surely burnout has reached a new level here. Am I really calling myself for this case?” 😂

I answer cautiously like:
“Hello… me?”

Turns out somebody heard about the POPI Act and thought:
“You know what? Identity theft sounds easier.” 😂

So now we’re racing through rain so heavy Noah would've started building again. Visibility? Absolutely fictional. The wipers were working harder than Eskom technicians during election season.

Directions coming through over the phone sounded like a drunk treasure hunt:
📍 “It’s on the R34!”
📍 “No wait, N2!”
📍 “Southbound!”
📍 “Near Melomed!”
📍 “No no after the bridge!”
📍 “Before the bridge!”
At this point even Google Maps would've closed itself and said:
“You know what boss… you’re on your own.” 😂

Eventually we arrive.
And looking UP that embankment towards the highway… my first thought was not:
“Accident.”
No.
My first thought was:
“Did this car get rejected by the Air Force?” ✈️😂
Because those tyre marks down the hill looked LESS like a crash scene and MORE like:
🚜 “Farmer of the Year 2025.”

Whoever drove down there basically ploughed enough land to start planting mielies by the weekend. 🌱😂
And there at the bottom…
The vehicle.
Upside down.
Wheels in the air.
Exhaust hanging out.
Mud everywhere.
Looking like it had fought gravity in a cage match and gravity won by unanimous decision. 😂
Honestly the car looked emotionally exhausted.

If cars could speak this one would've whispered:
“Brother… I was trying to get them to graduation… not introduce them to low-altitude aviation.” ✈️😂

The ambulance had arrived seconds before us.
Two patients lying on the wet grass.
Rain hammering sideways.
Everyone freezing.
Everyone soaked.
At one point the rain was hitting so hard even my cell phone gave up professionally. Raindrops were opening random apps by themselves.

Suddenly my phone’s like:
📱 “Would you like to order Uber Eats?”
NO.
I WOULD LIKE TRAUMA SHEARS, THANK YOU. 😂

The paramedics tried getting a drip in… but in that freezing rain the veins disappeared faster than free food at a family braai.
One medic looking for a vein like:
“Bruh… this patient had veins five minutes ago.” 😂
I think to myself:
“The patient should’ve ordered some veins on Take-A-Lot!”
Eventually meds were given another way and finally some relief kicked in.

Meanwhile all of us kneeling in mud and wet grass looked less like emergency responders and more like people doing court-ordered community service for unpaid traffic fines. 😂

Then comes the backstory…
The occupants were travelling south to their GRADUATION. 🎓
Imagine waking up that morning thinking:
✨ “Today I receive my qualification.” ✨
Only for life to respond:
✨ “Actually today we’re doing practical physics.” ✨😂
Because judging by the distance that car travelled down that embankment… those people didn’t just hydroplane.
No.
That vehicle entered a full postgraduate program in:
📚 Momentum
📚 Aerodynamics
📚 Advanced Landscaping
📚 Rotational Dynamics
📚 Intro to Aviation
Cum laude in rolling. 😂

Honestly, the car covered so much ground it looked like it was trying to relocate to another province without informing the owner.
And somehow… SOMEHOW… despite the weather, the mud, the chaos and the vehicle attempting Olympic gymnastics…
Both patients survived with serious injuries and were stabilised, warmed up and transported safely to hospital. Massive win considering the scene.

Then we get to hospital…
The cleaner had JUST finished mopping the floor.
Like PERFECTLY clean. Sparkling.
Thirty seconds later we wheel in two patients covered in enough mud and grass to start a small nature reserve in resus. 😂

That poor cleaner looked at us like:
“So we’re farming indoors now?” 😂
The floor went from:
🏥 “Emergency Department”
to:
🌱 “Botanical Gardens.”

At this point casualty staff don’t clean floors anymore — they rotate crops. 😂

Moral of the story:
🌧️ Slow down in the rain.
Because your car is a vehicle.
Not a Boeing 747 preparing for international departure.
And if your tyre marks start looking visible from satellite imagery…
…you were definitely going too fast. 🚗✈️😂

01/05/2026

21/04/2026

🚨 Gentle Followers… The Streets Went Quiet — Not Because the Drama Died, But Because It Got Arrested 😏🚔

Gentle followers… 👀

Much like the ever-observant Lady Whistledown, this author has neither vanished, retired, nor run off to start a new life selling vetkoek on the beachfront. Relax. I’m still here. Watching. Listening. Sipping very lukewarm tea. ☕

But eish… the streets have been *quiet*. Not peaceful-quiet… more like “something is definitely up” quiet. The kind of silence that makes even a hadeda pause mid-scream.

You see, gentle followers, even the local gossip pipelines — the ones that usually deliver drama faster than load shedding schedules — have run dry. So this author did what any responsible storyteller would do… dug deeper than a municipal trench that was never closed properly.

And what did we find?

Yoh. The plot twisted.

The *ton* (yes, all of you) asked questions. Loudly. Softly. In comments. In voice notes. In those side-eyes at the robots. And somewhere between the chaos… answers started creeping out.

Late afternoons… early mornings… while some of you were dreaming about winning the Lotto or finding petrol under R10 — the long arm of the law was *working*. 🚔

The traffic department didn’t just pull in the reins… they tightened them like your skinny jeans after December lunch. One by one, the usual headline-makers — our premium suppliers of chaos — were… how can we say this politely… *relocated to state-sponsored accommodation*. 🏢

And here’s the dark twist, my gentle followers…

In trying to cause mayhem, many of them have unintentionally been saved from themselves.
Yes. The very same free accommodation they probably didn’t book on Booking.com has kept them out of accidents, out of trouble… and quite frankly, out of meeting the Grim Reaper a bit earlier than scheduled. 😬

Because while the gossip has slowed down…

So have the accidents.
Drastically.

Emergency crews, who were once busier than a braai on a Springbok final day, have had time to breathe. To sit. To drink coffee while it’s still hot for a change. To process scenes that used to come one after the other like taxis at a rank.

Less sirens.
Less chaos.
Less of *that* kind of story.

So ja… while this page may have seemed quiet, just know — it’s not from lack of effort. It’s because, for once, the streets chose peace over pandemonium.

And strangely enough… we’ll take that.

But don’t get too comfortable, neh. This is still South Africa. The drama always finds a way back. 😏

Until then — drive safe, behave (or at least try), and remember…

This author is always watching. 👀

Yours in observation,
With just a pinch of dark humour,
The Author ✍🏽

12/02/2026

𝐑𝟑𝟒 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 & 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬: 𝐍𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐢 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭 🇿🇦🚑

You know it’s going to be that kind of shift when the radio doesn’t even let you finish your first sip of coffee.

Stage 6 vibes from the start. No breaks. No breathing space. Just call after call. The radio chirping like a hadeda that swallowed a referee whistle.

Phone rings.
“Vehicle available? Accident on the R34 at the roadworks.”

Me, with confidence I absolutely did not have, says, “Yes.”

Meanwhile all the crews are already out. Yoh. I basically volunteered myself. No backup. Just faith and flashing lights.

Before I even grab my keys, second call comes in.
“We need more ambulances. My driver was involved. Multiple vehicles.”

Now I’m thinking okay sharp, this is not a bumper bash. This is a full committee meeting on the highway.

Then the group message drops. Confirmed entrapment. Need Fire.

That’s when your stomach just quietly says, here we go.

“Mounties mobile with ALS.”

At Fiveways the robot turns green just as I get there. I’m telling you, that robot respected me. It saw the lights and said go well my boy.

Breakdown vehicle jumps in behind me. They know the drill. We head toward Nkwaleni and for a moment it feels like Fast and Furious, but sponsored by pothole awareness and budget constraints.

And let me tell you something. The road was smooth. Smooth. No potholes. I didn’t know how to act. I almost swerved out of habit.

We arrive. I park at the back so nobody thinks this is a quick squeeze through situation. Not today, chief.

Walk up to the crushed truck. Patient entrapped. We assist the medic already on scene. We try. But the injuries are too severe. And just like that, the jokes pause.

We shift focus. Other occupants assessed. More services arrive. The scene now looks like an emergency services open day.

I ask the truck driver what happened.

He says, “I was about to get out to relieve myself. Then I heard a bump. Then another one. But the second one was softer.”

Then he laughs and says, “I was so shocked, my bladder empty. No need to go anymore.”

Sir. That is trauma powered plumbing. Immediate results. No waiting period.

Ambulance leaves with the injured patient. Traffic stopped. Off they go.

Now it’s CSI Mounties time. Drone edition.

Battery gets swapped for a fresh one. Before sending it up again, we move all the other vehicles out of the shot. All the curious uncles with hazard lights on like they are part of the investigation. Gone. Move.

Drone goes up.

And suddenly the photos look calm. Empty. Quiet.

No chaos.
No flashing lights.
No panic.

Just damaged vehicles standing there politely like they didn’t just cause a whole afternoon of drama.

From above it looks peaceful. If you didn’t know better you’d think it was a truck commercial gone wrong.

Now earlier attempt. Yoh.

I reposition slightly.

Next thing.

Crash.
Boom.
Bang.

Down into the trees like it clocked out before I did. Remote screen goes dark. My heart also goes dark.

Obstacle avoidance was off. Why. Listen. I was tired.

I walk toward the tree and bystanders are already trying to grab it like it’s a Black Friday special.

Everyone shouting, “Leave it. Leave it.”

Luckily only the propellers were damaged. I pull out spare props like I planned this. Quick change. Back in the air. We are not losing to a tree today.

Hardest part though. Extrication happening while family stands nearby watching. That humbles you quickly. You feel that one properly.

Eventually recovery pauses. The road reopens. Traffic flows again like nothing happened.

And of course, phones up. Full documentary mode. People driving past slowly collecting content for their WhatsApp groups.

Another day in emergency services.

Racing robots.
Fear activated bladder miracles.
Drone versus tree.
Turning chaos into calm aerial photos.

Ambulance life is not for the faint hearted. Sometimes you laugh because the alternative is sitting in silence questioning your life choices.

Drive safe, Mzansi.

Slow down at roadworks.

And please. We are not a roadside reality show.

Now I’m officially off duty.

07/02/2026

🚨🚑 BEST OF ZULULAND – LET’S BACK MOUNTIES EMS! 🚑🚨

Day and night. Rain or shine.
When emergencies happen, Mounties EMS answers the call.

Professional. Trusted. Community-driven. 💪

❤️ Show your support for the team that saves lives.
🗳️ Vote daily here:

👉🏼https://www.citizen.co.za/zululand-observer/best-of-zululand-2025-2026-nominees-services/

In a time of need, trust this team to take the lead.

05/02/2026

This is that moment.
The “show us some love” moment.

Vote for us in Best of Zululand 🏆
👉 You can vote every single day, so make it part of your morning ritual — coffee in one hand, phone in the other, vote before life punches you in the face.

Mounties is officially in a long-term race now.
Not a sprint.
Not a jog.
This is the kind of race where your legs feel like cement, you can barely lift a foot, and the sweat’s running down your back like a broken shower you can’t turn off. 💦🥵

Do we have the lungs?
Do we have the heart?
Do we have the madness?

That’s where you come in.

We need those thumbs up 👍
Those votes 🗳️
That backing from our own amazing people who know what we’re about.

Let’s make noise.
Let’s cause problems (the good kind).
Let’s rock this world and start unlocking some surprises like it’s a cheat code. 🔓🔥

Vote daily.
Talk trash to your friends if they forget.
And let’s take this thing to the finish line together.

👉 https://www.citizen.co.za/zululand-observer/best-of-zululand-2025-2026-nominees-services/

16/01/2026

🚨 Plan C Wasn’t in the Manual 🪝🪝

The breakdown cable wasn’t even tensioned yet when a bystander called it:
‘This is going to be a Facebook post.’ Confidently!

He wasn’t wrong.

It started quietly.
Paperwork kind of day.

Then 17:00 hit.

WhatsApp didn’t notify — it panicked.

First message:
👉 “Ambo Unavailable.”

Seconds later, another emergency group lights up with anxiety.

Control update goes out fast:
👉 “Get the vehicle mobile. Vehicle down an embankment.”

Main road. Traffic building.
Everyone keeps right… theoretically.

Decision made — straight past McDonalds.

At the next intersection a pedestrian steps off the curb…
Sees the flashing lights…
Instantly reverses all life choices and retreats back to the island.

Good call.

We crest the hill.

Vehicles everywhere.
People everywhere.
Entrance completely blocked.

Everyone looking at us like we’re the inconvenience.

Eventually cars move. I roll forward.

Before I can even open the door, the updates start flying:

👉 “There are children on this side — not serious!”
👉 “The mother went down the embankment — she’s still down there!”

Right. Adult first.

I step to the edge.

That embankment isn’t steep — it’s hostile.

One slip and I become part of the incident.
Final Destination flashes briefly.

I go down slowly. Carefully.
Somehow still upright. Premonition defeated.

Below me:
Car upside down. On its roof. Wedged between a concrete wall and gravity.
Driver outside. Conscious. Talking. No obvious fractures.

Walking her up the hill is not happening.

Plan A: spinal board carry.
Plan A also shows the ending: someone slips and we all roll.

Cancelled.

Radio check — fire dispatched. Traffic can’t be reached.
Doesn’t matter. We’re in a corner and SAPS is on scene.

Plan B dies quickly.

Plan C arrives on a flatbed.

👉 “China, we need a winch.”

The breakdown cable comes down the embankment like the final boss entering the level.

Patient secured. Hook on.

They start winching her up — fast.

I’m holding the board and suddenly I’m moving uphill whether I planned to or not.
One hand out, stopping the member in front of me from being pulled backward.

Patient loaded. Safe.
Scene finally exhales.
So do we.

I’m still catching my breath when the bystander laughs again:

👉 “I knew this would be a Facebook post the moment that cable came down.”

Fair.

Behind us, the car is rolled back onto its wheels.
Windscreen gone. Panels finished.
Recovery takes longer than the patient.

What caused the accident?

Nobody knows.
The marks don’t make sense.
The driver doesn’t remember.
Physics has declined to comment.
Sometimes scenes don’t give answers — just outcomes.

Kids had minor injuries and went home with dad. That's the part that matters most!
The car took the worst of it.
Everyone did their job — even if Plan C wasn’t in the manual.

And yes — the winch absolutely made the story. 🤣

13/01/2026

Random thoughts.
Who would’ve thought.
I don’t know what I don’t know — and that never really changes.
But experience teaches this:
structured thoughts can tell an amazing story.

Some roads don’t change —
you just carry them differently over time.
Same Road, Different Weight is a new song about work, time, and the things we carry quietly.
Out Friday, 22 January (afternoon).

31/12/2025

As we close the chapter of 2025 and step into a new chapter—2026—we pause for a moment to reflect.
We are grateful for the many blessings of the past year. While 2025 brought its share of challenges, those challenges shaped us, strengthened us, and reminded us why we do what we do.
Sadly, this year also meant saying goodbye to family, friends, and loved ones who will not walk into the next chapter with us. They are deeply missed, and their memories will always remain part of our story.
At Mounties, we hold a long-standing tradition of remembering those who have passed on. We also pay our respects to those we fought for and, despite our best efforts, could not save. This remains the hardest part of our calling.
We would like to thank everyone who trusted us with their emergencies and supported us throughout the year. Your trust means more than words can express.
We wish each and every one of you a blessed 2026—filled with health, hope, and good things. And if the road becomes steep, know that we will be there to help wherever we can.
— Mounties

25/12/2025

To All Followers

We wish you a blessed Christmas.

Keep SAFE and Healthy!