Aus sits on the edge of two worlds. Behind you to the west the Namib starts its long slide towards the Atlantic; ahead, the land lifts onto the high plateau of the south, and the village itself perches at roughly 1,400 metres, which means mornings here can bite even in a country that is famous for heat. It is a handful of buildings, a railway that once mattered, and a view over scrubby plains that go orange at sunset.
The history is stranger than the size suggests. During the First World War the South African forces who took the colony from Germany interned German soldiers near Aus, and the camp left foundations and a small cemetery that people still look for in the rocks. The other local celebrity is the herd of wild horses out near Garub, a short way towards the coast on the road to Lüderitz. Nobody agrees entirely on where they came from, with stories involving abandoned military horses and a stud farm, but they have learned to live on very little water and a waterhole is kept for them. They are worth the detour if you have an hour.
For riding, think of Aus as the doorstep rather than the room. The start of the D707 northwards is gravel, graded but loose in patches, with washboard that punishes a fast pace and fine sand in the dips. The scenery is a grand sequence of granite koppies, dry riverbeds and long horizons, and you may go an hour without meeting a vehicle. That is the charm and also the rule: carry water, tell someone your plan, and keep a margin on your tank. Tyre pressure matters more here than horsepower.
Fuel is the practical heart of the stop. Aus is small, but a village on a main route like this does keep a pump in business, and since the next dependable supply on the D707 is a long way north it is sensible to top up here whatever the gauge says. Lüderitz is the larger town to the west, and Keetmanshoop is the real service town to the east if anything goes wrong.
Go early. The light is soft, the gravel is cool, the wind in the afternoon can pick up, and the sun sets fast. Late autumn to spring, the dry season, is kindest; summer thunderstorms can close riverbeds.