Cloudgazer and the Wild Dog Bash

Cloudgazer Steven's picture

Cloudgazer and the Wild Dog Bash
Warning: This post contains scenes of strong language, nudity and violence. (OK, there's no violence and the only nudity was me getting into my sleeping bag)

DAY1 – Approx 450kms

Departing smileDeparting smile

I left a rainy Cape Town at about the same time most people were going to work.

The rain didn’t bother me as I knew it wouldn’t last long. In fact, if the weather reports could be trusted I’d have near perfect weather the entire trip.

The only other rain I was expecting would be at Snow Valley once I was there.

I barreled up the N1, over Du Toits Kloof pass, and up to the Hex River Valley. I stayed on the highway till just after Touwsrivier where I finally turned off onto a dirt road. My mission for the day was Seweweekspoort. A road I’d never ridden, but seen plenty pictures of. It was stunningly beautiful and everything I expected it to be.

On the RoadOn the Road

No more tarNo more tar

I stopped for lunch in the middle of the poort. The silence was deafening and brilliant.
From there I rejoined the tar on Route 62 just before Calitzdorp – and ambled into Oudtshoorn feeling pretty chilled indeed.

SeweweekspoortSeweweekspoort

It was an uneventful day – which is perfect when you’re travelling solo.

At the campsite I made friends with a couple who had a fridge, and they kindly kept my beers chilled. I also noticed the guy was chopping wood for kindling. Great idea, I thought, and asked if I could borrow is axe.

Big mistake – I almost lost my thumb. I handed the axe back sheepishly, and  thought fuck the kindling, I’ll just use half a packet of fire lighters instead.

Never give a city boy an axeNever give a city boy an axe

DAY 2 – Approx 390kms

On most of my trips I have a very precise route planned and know where I’ll be spending the night. Not this time. I had plotted various possible routes for each day, and had absolutely no clue where I’d spend the night.

It’s one of the reasons I tried to keep each day’s ride fairly short – so I could spend some time each afternoon looking for a place to sleep.

I also know of the GPS says you’re gonna arrive at your destination at 3;30, you can easily tack on 2 hours or so.

AddoAddo

My only goal for the days was to get to stay as close to Addo Elephant park as possible. The first few campsites I rode past did not look too inviting so I kept going. I rode past a backpacker’s establishment, whose logo I kinda recognized. It was called the Orange Elephant, and it turns out that its owned by a chap called John (A fellow Wild Dog known as CastingFromTurd). What an amazing spot, they grow all their own veg and make their own foods, everything is organic. He let me camp on the lawn for a mere R70. Later on people offered me a bed in their chalet, but I’d already setup camp – and besides I love sleeping in my tent. Its one of the reasons I do what I do.

I think I'll camp hereI think I'll camp here
The bar is run by a Canadian chap called Randy and his wife.
It was Randy’s birthday and there were a few other people at the bar, already buying him shots. I joined in the celebrations. One thing I really treasure about travelling solo is all the interesting people you meet. People you wouldn’t if you were travelling in a group. Being by yourself forces you to be more social, and people tend to open up to solo travellers, whereas they tend to stay away from a group of scruffy looking bikers.

If you go past the Orange Elephant, pop in and have the Kudu steak – you wont be sorry!

 Kudu and papKudu and pap

DAY 3 –

My original plan had been to ride the Zuurberg pass through Addo, but John advised me against it. Recent rains had made the pass treacherous.
He looked at my route and suggested I go via a town called Alicedale, some beautiful roads to ride there.

However my maps were just screenprints from Base Camp, and so did not really have all the roads visible, but his explanation of the roads I should take seemed simple enough.

Yeah right!

Getting to Alicedale was easy enough – finding my first waypoint from there was a different matter entirely.

Outside AlicedaleOutside Alicedale

The same spot from google earthThe same spot from google earth

At first the roads were great, I followed a river for a while, then some train tracks.

Without the GPS or maps to guide me I was guesstimating my position the whole time. I took one or two definite wrong turns.

Nice RoadsNice Roads

Even better...Even better...

I was supposed to keep heading north through a poort to the main drag, but I started getting nervous when I could see the road hadn’t been used much. The surrounding bush was very overgrown.

watercrossingwatercrossing

I came across one water-crossing, and then another, but it was the 3rd crossing that made me shit myself.

It was far deeper than I expected, water came pouring into my boots, and I almost lost balance when hitting a submerged rock or something. I got through okay, but my heart was in my mouth. If I’d dropped the bike in the water I would have been well and truly shafted. I didn’t even bother checking to see if I had a cell signal here. I doubted it. When I came across yet another water crossing, I decided I was being stupid following this road. Even though I knew the main road could not be too far away.

Best I turn back and cross the water I already new rather than face some unknown obstacles. So I did the 3 water crossings again, and made my way back to the last junction and took another road.

where I turned back...where I turned back...

a more dramatic viewa more dramatic view

After a seriously long detour I finally made my way back to a main road and my first waypoint for the day: Riebeek East.

From there I had plotted another meandering route up to Fort Beaufort . The roads and scenery were fantastic, however the were an endless succession of gates to be opened and closed. What a friggin mission!

Come up to a gate, stop the bike, get off, open the gate, get back on the bike, or push it through, close the gate, hop back on the bike and continue. It is so bloody tiring its ridiculous. And it’s a serious time waster.

Rolling hillsRolling hills

I know I shouldn’t concern myself with time and schedules when riding off road, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. I also hadn’t eaten all day, and my strength was sapped. But I pushed on.
Hindsight is an amazing thing

Fort Beaufort was a bit of a shithole (not nearly the worst place I’d see on this trip though), and I couldn’t find anywhere to eat. I filled up and pushed on to Fort Hare and then Hogsback.

OMG, Hogsback is stunning. It was probably about 4-ish when I went up the pass. The light was fantastic, and I felt like I had the road to myself.
Nice ride.

Hogsback sunsetHogsback sunset
Hogsback is kinda like hippie heaven, all the old LSD freaks and Shroom-babies end up here at some point. Then again, maybe I’m just a little cynical – the place really does seem rather magical. All very Tolkien-esque.

I searched around for a decent campsite, but they were all a bit ho-hum, so I opted to check in at a backpackers place called ‘Away with the Fairies’.

Man, I love the random encounters while travelling. There were some Aussie girls, a Dutch couple I think, a few locals, and some guys down from JHB for the flower festival. It all makes for some interesting bar talk.

Looking back it was kind of the perfect adventure riding day.

I went to sleep with a sense of satisfaction.

DAY 4: Approx 360kms.

Probably the most frightening ride of my life!

It all started so well. The morning was perfect. I didn’t have to break camp, all I had to do was pack my kit onto the bike and I was off.

It’s about 60kms of a nice dirt road from Hogsback down to Cathcart. From there it was tar up to Queenstown. I wasn’t expecting such a large town. The place seemed to be buzzing. And while I certainly wouldn’t want to live there, it seemed like paradise compared to the places up the road. The weather up until now hadn’t been bad, a little cold and grey maybe. Now it changed.

The wind. Oh My God. The Wind!
I’ve never experienced anything like it  - and coming from Cape Town that’s saying something. This wind came in from the north, hit me sideways, and it was relentless. Riding at a 45 degree angle into the wind and getting buffeted around like a toy.

Then it happened; the wind pushed me clear across the road into the oncoming lane, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. I suddenly found myself on the wrong side of the road and no matter how much I leaned and pulled I could not get back into my lane. I had to drop my speed to below 40km/h before I could do it. I don’t know who to thank, so I’m just gonna thank fuck there was no oncoming traffic at the time. That would have been me.

A few kilometers later, my heart still thumping in my ears, a goat steps onto the road. @#$%! Stupid dumb animal.

And it just went on… riding this awful road through this shitty shitty windswept landscape. Plastic bags fluttering like crazy on the barbed wire fences. Holding on for dear life. It was hell. My spirits plummeted.

The barren plains of MordorThe barren plains of Mordor

Lady Frere was the first dusty dirty town along the road. What a shithole!
I didn’t stop.

Cala was the next town. An even worse shithole!
It was like some dusty border town in an Oliver Stone film, but with no colour, a bleak horrid place. But I just had to stop. I needed to get out of the wind for a few minutes. I stood outside a furnisher shop while I had a smoke to calm my nerves. It felt like I was watching a sand storm across the road. I chatted to the owner of the store while I had some snacks.  And we both watched the wind from the shelter of his shop front.

The road up to Elliot was no better. Windy. And Shitty. And more shredded bags dancing on barbed-wire fences. 
I refueled in Elliot and pushed on.

When planning the trip the one thing I debated was helmet choice. I usually ride with a peaked Dual Sport helmet, but it tends to get uncomfortable after a couple of hours. My full face helmet is lighter, but very snug, not great if you’re working up a sweat, but it’s quiet and comfortable; perfect for long distance. Today I was so glad I didn’t have a peaked helmet, there’s a chance the wind could have caught it and twisted my head off my shoulders.

When I reached Barkly East, I refueled again, bought some snacks, and called my wife for the last time, since this was apparently the last place I’d have cell signal for the weekend. I saw a few groups of riders pulling into town, the first I’d seen since Tuesday.

The last 55kms were slow going. Although the wind had abated a bit it was still blustery. The weather was also closing in.  Scattered drops of rain fell, promising to pour. But the storm held back for a few more hours.
But now I had another issue. I was sure my rear shock was leaking oil. The bike wasn’t handling quite right and it appeared to make an awful lot of noise each time I hit a bump or rut or something.

Snow on peaksSnow on peaks

Ominous WeatherOminous Weather

Its funny after the day I’d had, my shattered nerves and all, I thought the road was quite treacherous. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but it was slow going. It easily took me an hour to travel those last 55 kms to the Reedsdell farm and the Wild Dog bash.

I’ve never been to a bike rally or bash before. I’m not really one for large crowds of people, certainly not a group of drunk bikers. But I was seriously impressed with the venue and setup. They had built a bar in one of the farm buildings, along with rows of tables, and some couches to chill on. There was a stall selling all sorts of biking accessories.

Camp hereCamp here

More arrivalsMore arrivals

I suppose one of the mean reasons I attended the bash was to meet the people in person whom I interact with daily on the internet. So many people I know in cyberspace, but never met in person. This was the perfect opportunity to do so. It was great to finally put names and faces to the avatars I know so well.

We were supplied with massive braai packs – ridiculously large in fact. I can’t imagine anyone been able to finish it. After dinner and a few drinks I was ready to crash.
No sooner had I crawled into my tent when the rain came down. And come down it did! Unfortunately I hadn’t secured my flysheet properly and water started seeping in. I had to fix it.
In the few minutes I was outside I got completely soaked. It was like I’d taken a shower. I dried myself off, but alas I hadn’t done a good enough job of securing my tent against the storm, and so had to venture out again about 15 minutes later, getting soak again.
But after that I was sorted. I stayed snug and dry the entire night, and slept like a baby to the soothing sounds of the rain pelting my tent.

The next day I awoke to the carnage of the storm, damp and bedraggled bikers  were wringing out their soaked kit.

After the stormAfter the storm

aftermath2aftermath2
It seemed everyone got a late start waiting for the weather to clear. And it did slowly. Soon riders were blasting off to explore the passes of the surrounding mountains. I spent much of the day wandering around the farm chatting to riders and new friends, I went for a walk, read a bit , admired the bikes, and just chilled.
Crazy bikers on a mountainCrazy bikers on a mountain

Dassies warming themselves in the sunDassies warming themselves in the sun

the weather improvesthe weather improves

I dunno if its art, but I like itI dunno if its art, but I like it

Look at all those buttonsLook at all those buttons

Another night of eating and drinking ensued. But I was sensible enough to crawl into bed at a decent hour. I didn’t want to ride out of there with a hangover. The temperature plummeted to below minus 2. It didn’t bother me. I had another good nights rest.

DAY 6: Approx 370 kms.

The morning was clear and cold and we had to thaw our gear before packing it up.

Iced TentIced Tent

Iced seatIced seat

Today I wasn’t gonna be stupid, I had a huge artery clogging breakfast. I was ready for whatever the road out could throw at me.

The road outThe road out

I needn’t have worried. The ride back to Barkly East was great. I enjoyed the road immensely, hard to believe it was the same one I’d come in on. Amazing how your mood can effect things. It was now a fun ride, something to be savoured and enjoyed, not intimidating and treacherous as before. I laughed at myself.
Also strange is that the moment I left the farm I was on my own. Even though there were over 200 other bikes there, I was suddenly solo again.
Maybe everyone had taken a different route.

Anyway, I was at Barkly East before I knew it. I said cheers to the bikers I met while refueling, and continued on my way.

From there I took the most amazing dirt road to Dordrecht. 100kms of solo bliss. The only other vehicle I saw was an abandoned Opel with a flat tyre. Once again I felt like the only person in the world.

Heaven!Heaven!

At Dordrecht I got back on the tar and went down to Queenstown, where I bumped into a couple of other riders making their way back to Cape Town. We chatted for a bit, and then they were off. I stayed on the tar all the way to Cradock, still not trusting the state of my rear shock, although it felt much better since I’d adjusted the damping.

At Cradock I bumped into Superfoxi and his mate again… they were going to push on, while I was done for the day. All I had to do was find some accommodation. After 2 nights of camping I was ready for a little luxury, so I book into a nice B&B.

DAY 7: Originally supposed to be 438kms – but did more than 500kms

I was really looking forward to today. My entire day was supposed to be on dirt. It was going to be a long day too. Pulling out of Cradock my GPS gave my arrival time in Prince Albert at about 4pm… but as I’ve said you can easily tack on 2 hours or more to your estimated arrival time, which meant I’d really have to put foot if I didn’t want to arrive in Prince Albert after dark.

I'm lovin itI'm lovin it

BeautyBeauty

The first 160kms was great. The road from Cradock to Pearston was absolutely fantastic, mountainous and twisty. And from Pearston to Jansenville it flattened out considerably.

And then it all went pear shaped!

I filled up at the Caltex, and as I pulled away, my pannier got caught on a metal railing at the pumps and was ripped open.

Bloody whatever-that-thing-is-calledBloody whatever-that-thing-is-called

Fixed. Sort of...Fixed. Sort of...
It took me less than 10 minutes to fix, but was pretty frustrating as every minute counted. Once I’d repaired the pannier I hopped on my bike, fired her up, and suddenly she just died. Everything went off. Lights, clock, GPS, everything. There was nothing.
My heart sank.
It was a public holiday in a one horse town – my chances of getting help bordered on nil.

I knew I’d have to check the battery, but OMG what a mission. It meant, having to take my luggage off the bike so I could take off the seat – and to get to the battery I’d then need to take of the indicators and plastic fairing. That’s like 20 screws I have to undo.

Humphhh, German engineering Fail!Humphhh, German engineering Fail!

I parked my bike in the shade and proceeded to make my way to her battery. Once I had the covers off I tried firing her up again. All of a sudden everything came on and she purred happily. Shit, I hadn’t actually done anything yet, so I didn’t know what the problem actually was. I checked the battery connectors and leads, and reluctantly put everything back on. I didn’t like that I didn’t know what the problem was, and I certainly didn’t want it happening again in the middle of nowhere.
I’d also last valuable time. More than an hour.
My GPS now indicated I’d arrive in Prince Albert at about 6pm… that was waay to late for my liking. It meant I’d have to travel at the speed limit the entire way, and not stop for a single second. Not possible.

I decided to alter my route. I didn’t have many choices if I wanted to stick to tar. I’d have to take a longer way to Steytlerville and Willowmore and then on to Oudtshoorn.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I was a little disappointed in myself for opting to take the easy option, but it seemed silly to take any unnecessary risks this far into my trip.
I arrived in Oudtshoorn in the late afternoon. I set up camp, had a nice shower, made a fire and enjoyed the peace and quiet of a nearly empty campsite.

Oh, my bike performed faultlessly for the rest of the day after it’s little episode at Jansenville.

DAY 8 – 450kms

Aah, Route 62… possibly the most beautiful road in the Western Cape. Beautiful mountains, winding tarmac. Lovely stuff.
I stopped in Barrydale for a coffee and continued on to Montagu, Robertson and Worcester. I thought it would be a completely boring day sitting on the tar for all those miles, but the views more than made up for any lack in excitement.

everything a guy needseverything a guy needs

Snowy peaksSnowy peaks

Roadside AttractionRoadside Attraction

Route 62Route 62

selfself

I made excellent time and was home by mid-afternoon.

Wow, what an epic unexpected trip. From smooth roads and solitary days to mountains and storms and breakdowns and chance encounters, it had absolutely everything.
I’m almost ready for the next one...

Comments

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

Nice report and pictures.  Did you upload them individually Steve?

Brenda Buttercup also does the 'dead as a dodo' thing from time to time.  I isolated it to the main fuse connector.  There is a fuse between the battery and the rest of the bike.  Sometimes, either the fuse is cracked (a small crack that connects most of the time but if the wire is tensioned it pulls apart), or the spring in the fuse holder has been pulled back by the wire and contact is broken.

Committee: Webmaster / Ride Captain

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

Yup, had to load the pics indiviually. The bulk iuploader doesn't work for me.

So I picked what i thought were the best pics. There are more, but not really necessary.

 

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
Geoff Russell's picture
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Joined: 2007/09/25

Nice report Cloud.

 

Glad you got back safely..

Committee: Ride Captain

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Joined: 2007/06/25

Now that is a great report, glad you enjoyed it and arrived back without incident.

Think before you ink.

Trust is the most valuable asset.

I have the rest of my life to get old.

Tony's picture
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Joined: 2008/08/24

Nice one Cloud! Thanks for sharing.

A bend in the road is not the end of the road... unless you fail to make the turn. ~Author Unknown

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Joined: 2010/06/09

A report like this would take me 8 days...well done! I really enjoyed it.

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

BobGoode's picture
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Joined: 2010/10/07

Great report Cloud. Thanks for taking the time to write it.

Let it be.

Happyfeet's picture
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Joined: 2010/02/12

Nice report and was great meeting you! Tongue out

Jinx Louw

I don't suffer from insanity, I love every minute of it!

PeterO's picture
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Joined: 2007/09/11
Great report. I'm very interested in hearing the results of your bike problems. Was your shock leaking or was the noise caused by the needle bearing on the swing arm?

If you can dream it you can do it!

Andyman's picture
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Joined: 2007/06/22

Mooi man, as JP would say.

 

Thanks Cloud, eggselent report.

You may do it different, but you sure do it.

You would the same man if you did not have abike to escape on.

Looking forward to your next one.

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

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

Hey Peter, what the hell is a needle bearing on a swing arm?

Speak english man, or at least provide pictures.

Wink

There are so many problems in this world. Luckily there's a wristband available for almost all of them.
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Joined: 2009/01/26

Looks like a lot of fun dude!

If you want to see what the swing arm needle bearings are all about, then go through my bike restoration thread here http://www.wilddog.za.net/forum/index.php?topic=97719.80

The latter half of it is about my endavours to replace mine after ordering them from BMW and never recieving them......but there is a solution!