Autumn Spirit of Adventure

Zanie's picture

Prologue
I was working like fury on Friday the 13th. I had an immovable deadline to meet: I had to be at Stellenbosch by 4:30pm. My previous work day had stretched over an excruciating 15 hours. I needed a break. I needed a ride. And so did 20-odd others.

Enticed by Andy’s super-secret venue and route teaser pictures, Lance and I joined the other willing adventurers for a fortifying snack at Donford Motorrad Stellenbosch.

I spent a bit of time getting reacquainted with an old friend, Gareth, who I had met on the same hike I met Lance, my partner in life and adventure, 13 years ago. Gareth had acquired a red 650GS. Slightly long in the tooth, but full of original “character.” What good taste! I may be slightly biased…

Ride out
Time was not on our side, but we were told that the venue was a mere 98km away. Nevertheless, the sun had set good and proper by the time we hit the first gravel. Andy had advertised the route as, and here I quote, “This ride is suited to riders new to gravel roads and is pillion friendly.” I therefore did not expect much in terms of thrills and spills. I was willing to go along on what I thought of as a potentially pedestrian ride where technicality was concerned, but promising to make up for it with a world of beauty. With regards to the former: I was dead wrong. The latter: remained correct and true.

The “extended driveway” to our venue for the weekend was very rough. There was some loose stuff, mini wash-outs, ruts, all sorts! I was having a ball. This was the first time I’ve done an extended ride on technical stuff in the dark. It was exhilarating. Though, remembering my own self probably not even a year ago, I spared a thought for any who were new to gravel. Not too long ago, I would have been completely freaked. I wondered how Janice was doing, the only other lady-rider in our group on her own bike; a 700 (I think Anna-Marie had arrived earlier?). Hans, her hubby, had relayed later that the most he had heard through the headset had been strained sighs, interspersed with deathly quiet. That was until the top though, when it was all over. At that point she excused herself, and let loose one well-chosen expletive.

Gareth had ridden in front of me in order to make use of my bright spots. An old 650’s standard headlight works about as well as hand-held torch.

Our route:

Click here for the Google Map.

The venue
Our venue for the weekend was Rusty Gate. This was the first time they had allowed bikes, probably being of the opinion that all bikers are rabble-rousers that tear up the surrounding area. It had taken some cajoling from Andy. If we behaved ourselves, we may be allowed back and, even better, may be allowed to explore some of the many smaller roads tracked across the mountains.

The late hour only allowed for the essentials: socialise, eat food and lay claim to one of the dormitory beds. We would explore our digs in the daylight.

Socialising:

A big shout-out to the providers of food! I am terrible with names. This may be one of the reasons why I tend to ride in smaller groups - I can name all the people! Snuffling around photos and memory banks I can list Anna-Marie (one of the unforgettable organisers), Des, Janice and Tasha, but I’m sure I’m missing another braai-master (they were masters!).

Des, Anna-Marie and Janice:

I have hardly ever slept so comfortably on a bed that was not mine. I awoke well-rested and ready for the day. The same cannot be said for everyone. There were some grumbles about snorers. Previous experience had left me prepared: Lance and I both slept with ear-plugs. Blissful silence the whole night!

Despite the fact that we were the first bikers at the venue, I cannot help but feel that it was almost designed for bikers. Each bed had a nice little head-board (or foot-board) shelf for your helmet and assorted goodies.

Our digs:

We were in the upstairs room. A walk out onto the balcony revealed a herd of sleeping motorbikes and two awake humans.

Quite a few of the following photos were actually taken on the second morning (Sunday). I think we were just taking it all in on the first morning!

The fire pit:

Only one bike slept on the stoep on the first night. By the second morning, it had gained some friends.

The other 650GS with its rider, Gareth. The bike is a bit younger than mine, but it was adopted from an abusive home and therefore comes with its own slew of pernicious perks.

Breakfast on the stoep:

The view

The reason we stood spell-bound on the first morning?

A pool with a view:

Catching some of the first rays:

Lance and my bikes. Lion King anyone?

Lance and I with a view:

Departure

Andy giving a pep-talk to a very attentive audience:

Heading out past our trusty back-up vehicle. It would not to be idle during this trip…

We were told to have a look at the dam before heading back to our departure point.

Some were already returning from the short detour. Spot yourself!

The dam comes complete with a foefie slide.

Getting ready to go!

And then we set off, into the view:

Back-Track

We stopped at Protem rail station.

Here Andy offered two options: (1) rest or (2) ride to the end of the track. I, of course, opted for the latter.

Following Andy:

The end of the road / track:

Spot yourself!

The tracks form a “Y.” We had found the one end. Now we were heading for the other.

Found it! Andy turned around. Most of us followed him.

Except Lance. He managed to squeeze through an impossible gap at the end of the tracks. Meanwhile, I was getting stuck and Andy was getting exercise.

Thanks to Lance’s manoeuvre, he was now on the wrong side of the tracks. Trying to back-track resulted in a resting bike.

Andy always looks after his flock. This time with Kevin as an assistant.

Rock-hopping

A snippet of some of the stunning Overberg roads:

Andy made sure that you didn’t let your guard down, by throwing in some real gems, including this rougher piece of road:

Airborne front wheel!

The road was interesting…

…and the locals were interested.

All sorts of boats

Lunch was at The Boat House. Andy wasn’t kidding when he said these were “plattelandse mense.” Nothing would rush them. The pizzas were great, but they seemed to be produced in twos and threes, strictly in the order in which they were ordered (that sounds very orderly!). Some unfortunate souls had to eat a lot faster than decorum required when Andy’s call came to saddle up.

Next stop: Malgas pont. Lance and I just managed to squeeze into the first batch across.

How many bikes can you squeeze onto a pont?

Interesting perspective:

Unravelling

And then things started to go wrong.

The look of utter disbelief as I discover my fifth puncture in 8 months:

Easy, right? There’s a back-up vehicle this time. I’ll just load the bike and fix it in the evening. Then even worse news came through. I am not familiar with the entire story, so, like a good newscaster should, I will add the required word. “Allegedly” Du Toit did a u-turn in a dust-cloud left behind by a truck, because he thought he missed the Malgas turn-off. Our sweep, Rikus, T-boned Du Toit. Thankfully both riders were ok, but the bikes were FUBAR. Two 1200GS’s. Hmm. No space on the back-up trailer methinks. I shout out at Andy, who was on his way back over the river by pont and looking very stressed, whether I should commence repairs. He green-lighted my proposal.

We could find no outward sign of the cause of the puncture. Only when we removed the tube, did we find the culprit: a sharp stone had punched right through my tyre and was lodged half-way through the tube itself.

Lance had all the necessary tools and a rear tube, but he had left our brand-new compressor behind. Thank goodness four helpful souls had stayed with Lance and I (most had either headed onwards or returned with Andy) and we had a choice of two compressors.

I had an intrigued audience, considering that (a) seeing a girl change a tube is rare, and (b) some had never had a puncture before and were taking notes. Unfortunately Lance and I managed to pinch the tube. Things were looking bleak until Milan produced a 21-inch front tube. It was not the correct size at all (which would have been 17-inch), but anything was better than nothing. I’ve had to make do with a wrong-sized tube before.

Mission complete, we were racing the sun.

Amazingly, we met up with the others in Riviersonderend. Andy’s bike was giving issues and someone had to tow-start him. He motioned for Lance and me to continue to Rusty Gate, considering that Lance did have a GPS. The others were waiting for Andy.

Lance may have a GPS, but wherever he goes, adventure seems to follow. He still managed to get us semi-lost by following short-cuts and missing turn-offs. We slowed right down, when Lance spotted a horse and a cow on the side of the road. Next we spotted a mini-heard of three horses. By that time it was pitch-black dark and I could see the whites of their eyes as we rode past.

The one short-cut took us within a stone’s throw of Rusty Gate, but ended up at a locked gate. At least we had an interesting river-crossing to show for our excursion.

It was a very eerie experience: just the two of us in utter darkness.

We eventually made it to Rusty Gate. The others had arrived 30 minutes earlier!

Our route for the day:

Click here for the Google Map.

The view: rerun

Du Toit and Rikus’s bikes were a sad sight the next morning. The right-hand-side crash-bar of Du Toit’s bike was bent like a pretzel and the bike had been leaking stuff (never a good sign). He can be lucky he still has a right leg.

Rikus’s bike lost some of its face.

We rode out on a private road, but Andy had organised that someone unlock the gate at the end. Same as the road we took in, this road also had “character.”

The views were jaw-dropping.

Spot yourself!

Gathered at the top.

I’m still staring at the view.

On the way down, Lance tells me that the last time he was on this road, it was washed away badly and they had to bundu-bash certain sections. 

The road was steep and rocky…

…but the bit where Lance had to bundu-bash last time had actually been converted into something that resembled a road. The old road (the right-hand-side fork) was wrecked further along.

The alternate road still added enough thrills.

Sand anyone?

At Theewaterskloof Dam, some decided to go straight home.

The rest of us headed to the Van Der Stel Pass.

It was on a corner like this that I nearly lost it.

I focused on some loose sand and braked hard with my back brake. I did some fancy shimmying, but managed to remain upright. I still don’t like corners and only recently formed a truce with sand. The two together are still my nemesis.

Houwhoek

The last bit of adrenaline for the day was the old Houwhoek Pass. It’s short, but packs a technical punch, along with beauty now somewhat marred by recent fires.

Sand and I came to an understanding on a ride two weeks previously (ride report to follow). For some reason, something just clicked. It’s still not easy, but it’s no longer terrifying and I can ride it in second gear rather than first (mostly…).

Fun!

The sand monster bites back! Largely due to lack of momentum. There’s a hold-up ahead.

There’s one particularly bad section of road. I decided to walk it and choose a line.

Tip: it’s easier to ride from the opposite side. You ride down the steps instead of up.

I pick left!

I was glad I had a small bike. It did not look fun with the big bikes, especially if you are not used to such roads.

Marc blasted past, making it look easy. I would try to follow his line.

Meanwhile, back at the gym, Andy was getting a work-out.

I chose Superman’s line and managed without a hitch. Momentum is your friend in such a situation.

A last gathering in Houwhoek.

Our route for the day:

Some last difficulties

Lance and I followed Hans and Janice to Peregrine, thinking the group was stopping there. In the end, we forgot to tell Andy that we had decided to stop for lunch; adding to his stress levels, especially when he saw some ambulances driving past. He managed to get hold of Hans, who joked that we had all stopped to fix another of my punctures.

I suppose Karma hit back at me for stressing out Andy. Hans's joke turned into reality. The front tube was not holding up in my back tyre. Hans pumped it back up with the compressor. Lance and I managed to get home by garage-hopping from one air source to another.

Reflection

My last few rides have been on the minimalistic side where the number of people was concerned. This ride had quite a different experience and dynamic. I have tended to avoid larger group rides, but this one was great. The pace was sedate, the people were interesting and the route was fantastic.

I have bought a new back tyre and a heavy-duty tube.

Trip video!

Thanks to Lance for all the action (ride-by) photos, taken as snapshots from his GoPro footage, and for this cool video:

 

 

Comments

Andyman's picture
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Joined: 2007/06/22

Zanie, you have done the trip proud!!!

Love your reports and love to see in each successive report how you grow in experience and skill and your abundant enjoyment.

Thanks all for accepting the challenges and making this a great memorable ride.

 

That movie clip is sensational stuff a fantastic preceise.

I already copied it.

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

Charles Oertel's picture
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Joined: 2007/04/14

Zanie, a great trip report.  Well done and thanks for putting in the effort.

Committee: Webmaster / Ride Captain

Nick van Niekerk's picture
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Joined: 2015/05/28

Thank's Zanie for a excellent report to re-live a well organized and fantastic weekend with fellow riders.

Froggy's picture
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Joined: 2014/01/15

Well done Zanie, thank you for finding the time to do the report.

Enjoy Namibia.

 

froggy

 

Hans Ambulans's picture
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Joined: 2013/10/01

Another great, descriptive ride report Zanie. Thanks for the time and effort you put into this. Always a great read coming from you!

Jackie Wiese's picture
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Joined: 2012/02/26

Thanks again for sharing all your exhilarating rides! You go girl.... Trust that the punctures will give you a skip for future rides! wink

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Joined: 2007/06/25

What is it with you and punctures, do you actually do a trip without a puncture? No wonder Lance taught you to repair punctureswink

Think before you ink.

Trust is the most valuable asset.

I have the rest of my life to get old.

Andyman's picture
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Joined: 2007/06/22

Zanie asked me just that question herself.

I said it was her riding style.

 

Zanie-who-only-sits and takes one line.

 

Try standing on technical surfaces and this will disconnect the  saddle and rear end from the tripple clamp and handle bars.

Then your trusty mount can do what it has been so fantastically designed to do and ride while you watch the scenery go by.

But it is that nut that connects the saddle to the handle bars that makes the  back wheel catch every rock the front wheel kicks up and have no  freedom.

 

And hey girl go get a tubeless tyred wheel so you  can tkae 3 mins to repair instead of 30 mins.

Say No to repairing punctures every 650 kms and say YES to standing up on technical surfaces.

 

 

 

 

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