11 days: Solo across South Africa

Cloudgazer Steven's picture

DAY 1: 300kms

Riding out of the train station into Lagos came as a bit of a shock.

How the hell did I end up in Nigeria?

Did a miss the border? Or a few stops? I know the train was a few hours late, but surely not so late to deposit me in this filthy city?

No… wait… This aint Lagos, I recognize a few of the tired-looking grubby buildings…. This is downtown Johannesburg, looking a lot worse for wear than I remember.

The train was more than 2 hours late pulling into JHB, and I rode straight into grid-lock traffic… with a threat of rain hanging overheard. Not the best way to start my trip.

And it gets worse.

The highways in JHB are all under construction, the place is a nightmare. And I can’t understand why they comb those grooves into the tar. My bike was snaking all over the place. My heart was in my mouth, and I was constantly on the verge of shitting my pants.
It was far worse than any sand I’ve ridden. Those highways were by far the worst surface my bike has ever been on.

Once out of the city the highways got much better, although the T63 I had on the rear always felt a bit ‘floaty’. I hoped that the feeling would go away once I’d had a chance to wear down the tyre a bit.

From JHB I headed east towards Witbank and Belfast before turning north towards Dullstroom and my destination: Lydenburg.

Because of the late train, the rain, and all the easter weekend traffic my progress was slower than expected.

It was after 6 and darkness had already descended before I got to Dullstroom. For some reason I had no cellphone signal so could not contact my cousin (with whom I was staying) to tell her I was going to be late.

Just before Lydenburg I decided to take a shortcut to the farm, one that would cut more than 35kms from the trip.

I turned onto the dirt road full of confidence and bravado knowing I only had 18kms to go. It was the kind of farm road I love twisty and rocky, where your bike just bounces along the line you set for it.

However about 10kms in it all went to hell. I hit the snotty clay and went down like a sack of bricks. I was amazed that none of my indicators broke and that my panniers were still in one piece. No worries.

I picked up my bike and carried on. A minute later I was down again. The entire road was now slippery clay, not just portions of it.

No worries.

I picked up my bike and carried on.

I went down for a third time. And this time when picking up my bike I must have pulled a muscle in my lower back.

Feeling a little shaken, and very sweaty in my riding and rain gear I continued on, at the muddy bottom of a small valley I went down for a fourth and final time.

I had no more strength to pick up the bike again, and when I tried my back hurt like hell.

I wasn’t about to panic though, this was all part of the adventure. I decided to chill out a bit and relax. I had a couple of snack bars, walked up and down the hill trying to get a cell signal without success. Not that it would have helped since I knew my cousin did not have a signal on her farm. So there really was no one for me to call.

After an hour or so of sitting in the wet dark I tried to lift my bike again, but had to concede defeat. There was no way I could pick her up. The pain in my back was excruciating

I was pretty content to setup my tent on that cold and muddy farm road, and wait for morning. Indeed, climbing into my tent and forgetting about my woes was very appealing – but that would only delay my problem.

I doubted even after a night of rest I’d be able to pick up my bike. So I was left with two choices.

  1. Start hiking now
  2. Wait for morning and start hiking then.

Neither was particularly appealing as I’d have to leave my bike and most of my possessions.

I had a liter and a half of water, and figured it was possibly a 15km hike to my cousin’s farm. There was also less chance of someone stumbling across my bike in the middle of the night.

So I grabbed my dry bag and tent, and started slogging uphill through the mud into the dark wet night.

I was soaked with sweat inside my riding gear, but I didn’t dare take it off cause it was too cold and still drizzling a bit.

I ended up hiking 3.5kms (as we would later find out) before I saw the light shining in a farm laborers cottage. I knocked on the door, and was greeted by a small family huddled around a stove fire.

I begged for a lift to my cousin’s farm, which I told them was no more than 10kms away. They finally agreed to give me a lift in the seriously most dilapidated Uno I’ve ever seen. And by the way the guy drove drunkenly through darkness I’m surprised it was going at all.

Thank goodness I’d misjudged the distance and my cousins farm was only 5kms away. I doubt that little car would have made the entire trip.

By the time I got to the farm it was already after 10pm and my cousin was fast asleep. I woke her and told her of my predicament. To my horror there were none of her friends around (they were arriving the next day) so there were no big strong guys to help me with my bike.

But my cuz, she’s a plucky little thing, she insisted we go get the bike. So we hopped in her Pajero and made our way back along the muddy roads to where I left my baby.

She helped my pick it up, and we loaded all my kit into her car. She followed patiently behind as I gingerly and carefully made my way back to her farm.

There I had a very well deserved hot shower, and afterwards was fed a home-made pizza and glass of red wine. We chatted for a bit and finally crawled wearily into bed around one thirty.

… And that was just day one of my 10 day adventure across SA.

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Comments

Charles Oertel's picture
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Woohoo - this is going to be an adventure of note.

Cloud, if you want to paste HTML into your report, click the 'Disable rich-text' link at the bottom of the text area so that tinymce does not escape the HTML, then paste, then click the enable rich-text link.

You can see from the above that you lose all the resizing and lightbox goodness that the system provides automatically if you just upload the images using the camera icon in the toolbar.  Your call.

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Welcome back, keep the report commin' son.

Think before you ink.

Trust is the most valuable asset.

I have the rest of my life to get old.

John Geldenhuys's picture
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Ooi Steven, you posted with 5h ago... i'm waiting for more!!

EPIC Adventure in the making!! Cannot wait to read more!! 
Glad to see you made it through the first day!!  

Andyman's picture
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Good going Clouds, stop rowsing and finish the report.

Sounds like a great 10 days...waiting for more

Andyman
Anyone can ride a bike fast....   But can you ride your bike real slow???

Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 2: aprox 220kms

I woke up with a sore throat, and felt like I’d been hit by a bus. All my muscles ached, not surprising I suppose considering all the adrenaline and exertions of the nights before. The pain in my lower back was different to the rest… I also felt like I’d lost my mojo.

farmfarm

cousincousin

So after a nice breakfast and short tour of the farm I got onto my muddy bike and continued north. The thick low-hanging clouds matched my mood, and it wasn’t until I reached the Abel Erasmus pass that it improved.

Abel Erasmus passAbel Erasmus pass

WaterfallWaterfall

The vistas and rolling hills immediately improved my outlook. Finally I felt like I was in the real Africa, not the soft core western cape version of Africa, but the real deal.

However after the pass came the potholes… OMG! Here in the western cape we have no idea what potholes really are. Up north they’re like craters, large enough to swallow man and machine. I didn’t really care though, the scenery was just too beautiful – forgotten was the boring scrub and over-rated fynbos of home. This, finally, felt like the Africa of my childhood.

The time passed pretty quickly, and I stopped on the side of the road about 20kms outside Tzaneen for a rest and snack. I knew I’d need my strength for the last part. My dad had been telling me the roads were so muddy that he hadn’t been able to leave the farm in two days.

It’s only when I got back on my bike that I realized I was in serious trouble. I didn’t even have the strength to get it up off the side stand. Just the effort left me out of breath and dizzy. What a truly kak feeling!

Stranded on the side of the road with a bike that was almost, but not quite upright.

Thank god, at that moment two locals came past. They helped me get the bike up. They wanted R5 for their efforts. I laughed at them.

The last stretch saw me going up the winding Old Coach road to the Coach House Hotel where I’d meet my dad and his wife, and they’d lead my the final few kms to the farm.

Those last few kms were harrowing, the roads were slick and slippery, and I basically had to paddle my way down the steep muddy drives, but within 10 minutes it was over. I had arrived.

Now I should mention, my dad and his wife have been building their house for the last 12 years., and this was the first time I’d ever seen it. The place is magnificent. I could write an entire report about it, but instead will just post a few pics.

a touch of the easta touch of the east

entranceentrance

InteriorInterior

interior 2interior 2

guest cottageguest cottage

After a short happy introduction to the place, I pumped myself full of medicines and climbed into bed.

To Be Continued…

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BobGoode's picture
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Nice one, Cloud. Keep it up

Let it be.

KarinP's picture
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Great reading Cloud! Looking forward to the next installment...

Karin

Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 3: 0kms

 

In Bed. Sick.

 

To Be Continued...

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Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 4:

I spent most of the day recuperating, taking lots of vitamin C, antibiotics, corenza, etc.

I’d originally planned on riding to Sunland to see the world’s largest baobab, but since I was sick we went by car. I’m very thankful, as the roads were still muddy, and I would have hated every inch of it.

I saw a few guys playing around on light-weight KTMs, and wondered why on earth people would want to ride in such conditions. My mood, and my back, hadn’t improved much.

My what a big trunk you haveMy what a big trunk you have

father and son and treefather and son and tree

The tree was impressive, and well worth seeing. Especially since we passed what has to be the worst town I’ve ever seen. Modjadjiskloof. What a shit hole!

Worst. Town. Ever.Worst. Town. Ever.

Seriously kak.Seriously kak.

Later in the day the weather improved, gone were the dull grey skies, now it was just crystal clear blue, and the views from the farm were fantastic.

Beautiful views from the gardenBeautiful views from the garden

I was sorely tempted to extend my stay in Tzaneen. I was enjoying spending time with my dad and enjoying the house I’d heard so much about over the years. I spent most of the day thinking I’d stay an extra day, but by nightfall knew I wouldn’t.

I had places to go, and things to see…

To Be Continued….

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
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Great report.  And what a house - if you have time, please tell us a bit about it.

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Joined: 2007/06/25

Well Cloud I knew that area well in the early '70s, was beautiful then. Is the Coach House still so magificant. We have wonderful memories of that place. The town you refer to, what was it's previous name? Duivelskloof is it still so quaint?

Think before you ink.

Trust is the most valuable asset.

I have the rest of my life to get old.

Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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The Coach House Hotel is still magnificent.

Duiwelskloof is now Modjadjikloof - and it's just about the most awful town I've ever seen in SA.

@Geoff... I'll report more on the house, when the trip report is complete.

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DAY 5: 300kms

The weather reports indicated clear skies for Tzaneen and Lydenburg – but only for a day or so. Another sign for me to move on.

So with a heavy heart I bade farewell to my dad, hopped on my faithful stead and rode away.

I was feeling a lot stronger, and still taking insane amounts of medication, but there was no doubt I’d seriously injured my back, and that I’d have to be very careful on the rest of the trip. In fact, I’d have to forego many of the dirt roads I’d originally planned to ride.

But right now that didn’t bother me – as I headed south again to the Abel Erasmus pass. From there I crossed out of Mpumalanga and into Limpopo and the magnificent Blyde River canyon.

Abel Erasmus passAbel Erasmus pass

My noble steedMy noble steed


As I marveled at the beauty of the canyon and the many vistas it never occurred to me that the sights I would see would continue to get better and better as the days past.

At that point it was hard to imagine anything more spectacular than the Blyde River Canyon, or the views of the Lowveld from God’s Window or the Berlin falls.

Blyde River CanyonBlyde River Canyon

Berlin FallsBerlin Falls

Self PortraitSelf Portrait

I wasn’t entirely comfortable on the dirt roads, and chose to stick to the tar wherever I could. I’d never planned on riding through Graskop, but oh man, am I glad that I did. What a cool little town. It seemed as there must be some festival going on, but it was probably just the last day of the Easter weekend.

I had no intention of stopping until I saw the biker bar. I would have been wrong not to go in and have a drink. This was the first beer of my trip and it went down in a matter of seconds. It was probably one of the best beers I’ve ever had.

 Biker BarBiker Bar

Bikes + Biker Bar = perfect matchBikes + Biker Bar = perfect match

From Graskop is a nice twisty route to Pilgrim’s Rest – and it would be a truly great ride if it weren’t for the threatening presence of those blasted potholes.

Pilgrim’s Rest was pumping, full of holiday spirit, its quaint and commercialized all at the same time. I remember visiting the place as a kid and loving it, which is why I stopped there, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember a damn thing about the place.

Pilgrim's RestPilgrim's Rest

QuaintQuaint

There was no reason to linger. I wanted to get back to Lydenburg and my cousins farm. I wanted to spend some quality time with her. Not like the other night where she rescued me from the clutches of the mud monster.

I spent a wonderful evening with my cousin and her friends eating tacos and fajitas, and was in bed by 10-ish.

The Drakensburg and Lesotho beckoned…

To Be Continued…

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Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 6: 370kms

Day 6 dawned bright and lovely, and strangely I was up at this very uncivilized hour. I was on a farm afterall, and apparently its normal to be up at this ungodly time.

A very leisurely breakfast and slow morning saw me leaving at about 10-ish. Not the best time to start riding, but I wasn’t expecting anything other than a highway ride all the way down to Chelmsford Nature Reserve about 80kms north of Ladysmith.

I should have made good time…. But didn’t!

The N11 was one of the most frustrating roads I’ve ever been on… the endless ‘stop and goes’ added an hour and a half to my travel time.

Which was very frustrating as I was racing the afternoon rains.

A long lunch at the Mugg & Bean in Ermelo didn’t help much either.

I was pretty lucky actually. I got rained on for about 10 minutes while riding, and then again for a few minutes when I finally setup camp at Chelmsford.

Racing the rainRacing the rain

Day 6 seemed like a lull in my trip, and apart from Day 1 was the only day I didn’t encounter spectacular views. Which is saying quite a lot… practically everyday of my trip I was lucky enough to experience awe-inspiring vistas.

Nice. But not great!Nice. But not great!

I guess I’m being a bit of a brat, yes, there were no magnificent mountains to ogle over, but the Dam at Chelmsford was very very pretty.

campingcamping

ChelmsfordChelmsford

Sunrise?Sunrise?

The Chelmsford Reserve was just a rest point for me, a place of no consequence en route to a place I couldn't wait to get to: Lesotho.

To Be Continued...

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Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 7: Approx 280kms

 

I was finding the early sunrises in the eastern part of the country quite disconcerting. The sun was up way too early.

Anyway, I didn’t mind too much. While brewing my coffee my guy in a delivery van pulled up, and asked if I’d seen any other campers. I pointed out to him the campsite about 200 metres further on. (I was actually camping in the area reserved for day visitors – but since there weren’t any it didn’t make a difference). He asked if I’d like a scone, I said sure, so he hopped out his cab, opened the back of his van and gave me an entire bag.

Fantastic.

And because I’m known to overpack, I actually had some jam and butter in my panniers. Perfect stuff.

I packed my stuff and headed for Ladysmith where I needed to refuel. From there it was a short trip on tar to Estcourt, where I finally got onto the dirt again for the first time in 2 days.

PrettyPretty

Almost immediately the landscape began to change. The rolling green hills were like nothing I’d seen before.

DrakensburgDrakensburg

Could that be lesotho?Could that be lesotho?

It felt like I was on a different continent, not just heading for a little landlocked country within our own.

Despite just getting over my illness and my injured back I was very happy to be back on gravel. Although the fear of dropping my bike and not been able to pick it up again was constantly in the back of my mind. But I didn’t think I had any reason to worry. The roads were nice and dry, and I was confident of my abilities.

The views were just spectacular, and made me more eager than ever to finally reach Lesotho.

The ride passed all to quickly and I found myself at Himeville at about 2 in the afternoon.
I’d originally planned to camp there, but figured I’d spoil myself and stay at the Himeville Arms Hotel (what a great little spot). It would give me time to do some washing (socks, undies and shirts), and I could relax and gather my strength in comfort before my big day.

ComfyComfy

Later in the afternoon a group of bikers pulled into the hotel (1x 1200gs, 2x1150gs, a 650 Tenere and a KLR), they were joined by more people in two backup vehicles.

I started chatting with the guys and they were also planning on doing Sani the next day. They asked me to join them – and initially I declined their offer. But later at the bar while discussing our proposed routes I realized it would be foolish not to ride with them.

The GangThe Gang

The Gang 2The Gang 2

The gang (as I will call them from now on) were heading directly to Thaba-Tseka, a distance of about 180kms. My route took my north above Katse dam before turning south again to Katse Lodge, a distance of 275kms.

Considering these guys thought the 180kms would take them all day, I began to think I’d bitten off more than I could chew with my route. I certainly didn’t want to be riding in the dark, and I certainly didn’t want to experience any difficulties on my own.

So, I took up their offer to ride with them.

Another reason I wanted a shorter route is that I was 2 days behind schedule already, and could not afford to stick to my original plan of spending 3 nights in Lesotho. Now I planned to spend just one night (but would end up spending 2 nights thanks to the brilliant company of The Gang – to whom I’ll be forever indebted).

After a dinner of mountain trout and a glass of wine, I bid goodnight to my new friends, eager to get a good night’s rest before finally tackling the infamous Sani Pass…

To Be Continued…

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Charl M Smit's picture
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Hey Clouds, I green as I'm reading this.

My timing with the weather was just off, but I wanted to enjoy Lesotho so I left it for another time.

Looking forward to the next two days, please don't keep me waiting too long. Wink

n/a
Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 8: SANI PASS (187kms)

This was it. Finally. I’ve heard about Sani practically since the day I started riding. Now I was going to tackle this infamous pass myself. AWhoooHooo.

I set off with my new friends pretty early, and the beginning part of the pass was just lovely. Perfect DS roads all the way to the SA border.

Sani. Finally.Sani. Finally.

I was loving it, and having people to share the experience, made it even better. It was a huge comfort to know I was not alone, and that there were even back-up vehicles if necessary. I didn’t need to fret though. I’ve ridden far more technical roads than Sani before.

The BorderThe Border

Going up....Going up....

... and up...... and up...

... and up!... and up!

The road changes quite drastically after the border post though. Suddenly you climb like 1500 feet in less than 9 kms. It’s pretty steep and the hairpins are quite tight.

I had only one sphincter tightening moment when riding over some ice and the bike want to slip away from me. I managed to keep it upright and keep going.

We stopped a couple of times to admire the incredible views and to take pics. This turned out not to be the best idea for me.

The rapid climb in altitude left me feeling pretty weak, and I found the last few turns to the top difficult going, not so much because it was technical, but because I was suddenly exhausted.

I got off my bike at the top of the pass to take some pics, and when I tried getting back on we both simply just fell over.

The ViewThe View

The FallThe Fall

The SummitThe Summit

I had to wait for the rest of the guys to reach the summit (I was the first) so they could help me pick up my bike.

After going through the Lesotho side of the border we all went to the Sani Top pub, but as it was only 10;30 they restaurant wasn’t open yet, and our hopes of bacon and eggs were dashed.

No worries though, our backup vehicles were packed with yummy boerewors rolls. At least the pub was open so we could get coffee and sherry, cause damn it was cold up there. The clear blue skies seemed so incongruous with the sheets of ice on the ground and the biting wind.

 

It was so damn cold when we continued on our merry way that I had to put on surgical gloves under my riding gloves to cut out the chilly wind.

Much to my surprise, Sani is not really the top, you continue to climb on the Lesotho side.

We stopped again for the wondrous scenery right by another group of bikers. Turns out I knew a few of them, Generaal and Nismark from WD and Noeline from the BMW club. Amazing how you can bump into people you know seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Not strangers in a strange landNot strangers in a strange land 

Another thing that amazed me is the road to Thaba-Tseka, it was just brilliant. You can't get an idea of it looking at Google Earth or Basecamp (Mapsource), its called the A3 and looks to be a fairly major thoroughfare – but it’s not. There isn’t a single road indicator or name along its entire length. The only signs I saw the entire day were for primary schools. The road winds its way through the mountains and at times seemed so far removed from civilization it’s crazy.

fun fun funfun fun fun

VillageVillage

We passed numerous little villages that seemed nothing more than a gathering of huts. I could see no shops of any sort. And I was very surprised at how clean the place was. There was no litter lining the streets, not a single discarded plastic bag to be seen anywhere (unlike the northern parts of Lesotho I was later to discover).

ViewsViews

The gang liked to stop every 30kms or so for extended smoke breaks, which explains why it took us all day to cover 180kms. But I couldn’t complain, the company and scenery more than made up for my eagerness to keep going.

Frankie say Relax!Frankie say Relax!

Strike a pose!Strike a pose!

Due to all the rains the road was full of potholes, you’d swerve to miss one, and ride straight over five more, and there was no respite. Every time you wanted to sit and relax, you’d be forced onto your feet again by the blasted things.

As the day wore on and we started chasing the light it felt tedious and never ending. Fatigue and hunger were setting in, and at that point you just want the road to smoothen out and end.

Eventually it did – and not a moment too soon. Darkness had descended upon the land.

Our destination for the night was the Buffalo’s Hotel. A quaint little hotel in Thaba-Tseka, the most modern thing we’d seen since entering Lesotho. The rooms were simple, clean and warm. What more could you ask for?

I’d definitely recommend the place to anyone passing through there.

We had a couple of drinks and a hearty dinner. Most of us were in bed pretty early. Well, I was anyway. It had been a long, tiring, but above all, very satisfying day.

To Be Continued…

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
Charl M Smit's picture
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Thanks for that, but am I seening something here....Cool

 

Sani. Finally.Sani. Finally. 

n/a
Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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LOL. thats not Mr Badger if thats what you're thinking.

I don't know who would want to ruin my photograph by putting that beast in the background.

Cool

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And then??? Did you sleep for the next three days?

Seriously Dude, stop working and get typing.

"Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, and does it improve on the silence?"

Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 9: 60kms (Thaba-Tseka to Katse)

Another clear ice-cold day dawned in the mountains. I’d been superlucky this trip – so far the weather (with the exception of the first day) had been excellent. Better than I could have hoped for.

Today was gonna be a short ride, something I should have done yesterday, but I’d decided to stick with the gang for their support and camaraderie. It would have been stupid to blast through Lesotho without taking time to actually enjoy it.

meme

The same road that seemed so tiring the night before appeared much better after a good night’s sleep. Or it was simply that we didn’t care about the potholes anymore... We simply rode straight over them, as trying to avoid them was pretty pointless.

I spent most of the morning riding at my own pace, and didn’t see much of the gang. We stopped to repair a rattling windshield on one of the 1150s. After that I rode pretty slowly just soaking up the incredible views.

a little roadside repaira little roadside repair

mike, frisso, mark, greg and warwickmike, frisso, mark, greg and warwick

aint she pretty?aint she pretty?

I rode straight past the others who’d stopped at the dam itself, and continued to Katse Lodge where I booked myself a room.

I also ventured up into Katse Village on the hill to get some petrol. I was expecting an actual petrol station, and not a makeshift Lucky 7 store that dished petrol out of jerrycans.

I rode back to the dam, and found the rest of the gang getting ready to go on a tour of the facility, so I joined them. We rode down to the base of the wall, and then took a quick tour inside it. Man, it’s a serious feat of engineering, and very… excuse the pun… damn impressive. We then rode up and onto the wall itself.

Katse is spectacular.

dam impressivedam impressive

perspectiveperspective

After the tour we all rode back to the lodge for lunch, and to catch the last part of the royal wedding. It was quite funny to see so many people glued to the TV watching what is arguably the most boring television event in recent history. But yes, the dress was lovely.

The gang had rented a house just a few roads down from the lodge and I joined them there for a fantastic braai that evening.

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
John Geldenhuys's picture
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WoW - Definately on my list of things to do... 
Nice Report Steven! 

Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 10: (unknown amount of kms)

I awoke pretty early. So uncivilized. But what you gonna do? I was already a day or so behind schedule, and I had some serious miles to eat.

It was also time to shake off the comfort and good company of The Gang. I packed my bike and had a ridiculously over-priced breakfast at the lodge. R110 for a breakfast buffet? I’m sorry but I don’t eat an entire pigs’ worth of bacon to justify that cost.

I knew the roads today would be mostly tar, and my only concern was black ice at higher elevations.

It also looked like all my previous good luck with the weather had run out. It was grey and misty and freezing cold, and then it started to rain. Visibility was reduced to a few metres, and was constantly worried about some large buses I’ve overtaken when just leaving Katse. Thankfully they never caught up to me.

The cold bit into my fingers like nothing I’ve every experienced before, and I was forced to stop and warm my hands on the bike’s motor. I was not what you’d call a happy camper. I had no idea how long the mountains would last or how high I’d have to climb. And just when I thought I was in for a tough and miserable day I came over the Mafika Lisiu pass….

Ohhh.My.Fuck!

I’ve never in all my life seen such a spectacular view. It seems the clouds, rain and mist ended right where I stood, and the endless valley below was drenched in beautiful clear sunlight. It was such a contrast to the icicles covering the rocks beside me.

Best. View. EverBest. View. Ever

Abel Erasmus. Blyde River Canyon. God’s Window. Sani. All paled in comparison to the vista in front of me. My spirits soared. Forgotten was my aching back. Forgotten was the biting cold. There existed only the awesome ride down into the valley below.

Mafika LisiuMafika Lisiu

This northern part of Lesotho reminded me of South Africa. Dirty little towns, plastic bags fluttering on road-side fences. I pushed hard for the border. Now that I was in the foothills of the mountains I doubted there was anything spectacular to see.

I crossed the border at Ficksburg and filled up there. I didn’t bother stopping to look around and made my way to Ladybrand, where I finally stopped for lunch.

From there I missioned to Bloemfontein and the dreaded N1 – and made my way to Gariep Dam.

The landscape of the Free State is so flat and barren compared to the majestic mountains I’d descended from earlier in the day.

I arrived just as the sun was setting. The resort was fully booked, and the receptionist directed me to an establishment called the Purple Doors. They too were full. But some lady overheard my enquiries and offered me a flatlet for R150. I took her up on the offer.

A quick dinner of leftover pizza from lunch and a disappointing luke warm shower before I hopped into bed.

I wasn’t sure how many kilometres I’d covered, but I knew it was nothing in comparison to the final stretch that awaited me.

To Be Continued…

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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DAY 11: (800+ kms)

I was not looking forward to this. I had run out of time and needed to get home the shortest, quickest way possible – and that meant barreling along the N1 the whole way. I’d never ridden such a long distance in a single day before. Doing such gargantuan distances goes against everything I love about riding.

I’d originally planned to got to Prince Albert, do Swartberg, Oudtshoorn and Seweweekspoort – but alas….

There is nothing pleasant about the N1… its pretty much kak all the way to Laingsburg.

From there, the wind want to twist my head off my shoulders, but thank god it died down after a while.

The only interesting part of the whole day was riding through the incredibly beautiful Hex River Valley.

Surprisingly I made pretty good time, and was home about 17:30.

I couldn’t believe it.

It was over.

I was both elated and miserable. I was glad to be home and at the same time not.

It had been an incredible adventure for me, despite the few days I was ill, and despite the fact I had to do more tar than originally planned due to my back.

I was taken out of my comfort zone a few times, and experienced some great roads and views, met fantastic people, and can’t wait for the next adventure…

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
John Geldenhuys's picture
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Joined: 2011/01/31

Inspired!! 

Steven, Epic trip mate.Just a shame you didnt have more time. But i am even more inspired for a trip of epic proportions. 

Mapsource.... here i come... :)

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Joined: 2010/06/09

That must have been a fantastic trip...I have really enjoyed reading about your adventures. Whilst reading I imagined myself in your situations and wondered if I will ever have the guts to do such a trip...on my own.

"Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious".

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Joined: 2008/01/28

I really enjoyed reading this. Thanks.

Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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Joined: 2007/10/03

@David. There's only one way to find out  - and thats just do it.

That first night could have broken me. Stuck in the middle of the night. Rain. No cell reception. No way to pick up my bike. i could easily have freaked out - but seriously I knew things would turn out all right in the end.

A positive attitude can take you a long way.

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
Cloudgazer Steven's picture
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SOME ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS:
First, my Bike.
It performed faultlessly. I was worried about acid leaking from the battery the first night when I left it on it's side for a few hours. But nope. Nothing. 
When I finally got the bike up it started immediately.
The thing that impressed me the most though were the panniers. Everybody has said they're kak for off-roading.
I'm not so sure. The biggest problem with them is that they weigh a ton (probably much more than the aluminium kind)
But I think the fact that they are collapsible is a good thing, it seemed to cushion the blows when the bike fell over. I would need to fix and readjust the clips inside. But the panniers themselves coped pretty well.
The mounting system however is total rubbish, and got a bit bent - which resulted in my pannier resting against my exhaust for a bit and getting a little melted. 
I'd always been shit scared of dropping my bike when I had the panniers on - but now half a dozen times later, that fear has been laid to rest.
Barkbusters! An absolute must have - no broken leavers, unlike with the standard soft plastic rubbish the Dakkie comes fitted with. Surprisingly none of my indicators got damaged with all the falling.
Second, traveling solo.
I took me a little while to get out of the 'must get there as soon as possible' mindset. I found i didn't stop for pics as often as i should have. And I never really felt unsafe (even without cell phone reception), except for a time when riding on a dirt road close to a township near lydenburg, and knew I wouldn't be able to pick up my bike if I dropped it.
The rest of the time I have no doubt the locals would have been very helpful and friendly.
Third, Packing.
I think I packed too many pairs of socks... other than that i used pretty much everything I had (except my tools) - so I don't really know how to pack lighter than I did. I don't think my gear actually weighs that much, but its the combination of the heavy panniers that make it seem a lot.

SOME ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS:

First, my Bike.

It performed faultlessly. I was worried about acid leaking from the battery the first night when I left it on it's side for a few hours. But nope. Nothing. When I finally got the bike up it started immediately.
The thing that impressed me the most though were the panniers. Everybody has said they're kak for off-roading.
I'm not so sure. The biggest problem with them is that they weigh a ton (probably much more than the aluminium kind)
But I think the fact that they are collapsible is a good thing, it seemed to cushion the blows when the bike fell over. I would need to fix and readjust the clips inside. But the panniers themselves coped pretty well.

The mounting system however is total rubbish, and got a bit bent - which resulted in my pannier resting against my exhaust for a bit and getting a little melted. I'd always been shit scared of dropping my bike when I had the panniers on - but now half a dozen times later, that fear has been laid to rest.

Barkbusters! An absolute must have - no broken leavers, unlike with the standard soft plastic rubbish the Dakkie comes fitted with. Surprisingly none of my indicators got damaged with all the falling.

Second, traveling solo.
I took me a little while to get out of the 'must get there as soon as possible' mindset. I found i didn't stop for pics as often as i should have. And I never really felt unsafe (even without cell phone reception), except for a time when riding on a dirt road close to a township near lydenburg, and knew I wouldn't be able to pick up my bike if I dropped it.The rest of the time I have no doubt the locals would have been very helpful and friendly.


Third, Packing.
I think I packed too many pairs of socks... other than that i used pretty much everything I had (except my tools) - so I don't really know how to pack lighter than I did. I don't think my gear actually weighs that much, but its the combination of the heavy panniers that make it seem a lot.

 

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
Warren Ellwood's picture
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Joined: 2007/06/18

Thanks Cloud, awesome report on what seems like an awesome trip.

I have also recently decided I in fact really like my Dakkie and will not trade her on a 800 as was the plan.

Plus I heard from the horses mouth that "an old  favorite single 650" will be making it's return to the BMW stable next year. So I will wait and see.......................................... can one order something that doesn't exist yet.

"Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, and does it improve on the silence?"