Drowning GS's in the Doring River
While following the GS home at 60 kms an hour, I couldn’t
see the duct tape wrapped around its torn rear tyre holding the plugs in, so I
gave up trying and instead contemplated the appropriate title for this ride
report.
Many of which came to mind.
Easy Cederberg ride. Yeah Right!
Drowning GS’s in the Doring River.
Three went in… Two came out.
Adventures in Bike Towing.
3 Musketeers’ go large.
More punctures than you can count.
What started as an easy outride we’d all done numerous before turned into an epic adventure that tested us to the limits.
The weekend was supposed to be easy and chilled. A nice scenic ride to the cederberg on Friday, an afternoon swimming in the river, dinner around the campfire, and the popular Esselbank/Wuppertal loop on Saturday, before more frolicking in the river and gorging ourselves around the braai.
Well, Friday went according to plan.
Saturday didn’t.
3 of us left the Sanddrif campsite on Saturday morning all smiles and eager as puppies, only 2 of us returned on Sunday morning, more than 24 hours later, feeling pretty damn shattered… And it wasn’t over yet…
PART 1
Mr Fixit (Greg), Bald Eagle (Ross) and myself left Cape Town on Friday morning. A few of Ross’ mates were supposed to join us but pulled out at the last moment. When they read this ride report they’ll be very glad they did.
Anyway, we set off along the N1 (damn I hate that road). As I’ve said before I only feel like a trip has begin when I hit the Dutoits kloof pass.
From there we took the Rawsonville turn-off and enjoyed the winding road through slanghoek, and Michell’s Pass to Ceres, where we filled up the bikes.
Our next stop was Mount Ceder for a nice lunch while we watched horses play in the fields below.
Horses at play
A shortwhile later and we were at Sanddrif – I’ve probably been to the
Cederberg half a dozen times but have never stayed there before. It’s a really
great campsite, and I’ll definitely stay there again.
One thing I noticed on our way to Sanddrif was that I was
not happy on a particularly loose section of the road – and then it dawned on
me. This was my first real ride since going to Lesotho earlier in the year.
It’s been 6 months since my last trip, and the lack of riding was immediately
apparent. I need to practice more often. It felt like I’d lost my mojo… I had
no doubt I’d feel more comfortable tomorrow.
Cederberg road
We arrived at Sanddrif with time to setup camp and spend some quality time chilling in the river.
That night we braaied steaks and wors, and I got to test my new grid from ATG. It’s a tiny bit smaller than my gogetta grid, but much lighter. The only problem is that the fireplaces at the campsite are a bit high, so I couldn’t sue the whole setup properly (no need to use the pole in the ground), but it worked as a braai grid should.
I should also note that since our last trip Greg and Ross have both purchased the 40l ATG Dry Bags. Both guys are very stoked with them.
We all slept well.
Part 2
Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. We had a hearty breakfast of espresso, scrambled eggs and cheese and tomato sandwiches.
The nice thing about doing an outride is that you can leave
all your gear at the campsite and travel light.
I did, however, pack some essentials. Tyre repair kit, spare tubes, extra water,
2 cans of tyre weld, medical aid kit and a couple of other little things.
All smiles... for now.
The Esselbank/Wuppertal route is a lot of fun, though not as adventurous as it once seemed, since I’ve done it about 6 times now. I still enjoy it though. The 170 km loop has a bit of everything nice gravel roads, tracks, sand, water crossings, mountain passes, etc.
I was very surprised at how quickly we completed it. We arrived at the top of the pass overlooking Wuppertal before midday. At this rate we’d have lunch in Clanwilliam and be back at Sanddrif before 3.
How wrong could I be?
Almost at Wuppertal
At the bottom of the pass I remarked to Greg about our good time.
“Not really.”He said, pointing to his rear tyre, “I’ve got a puncture.”
My heart sank. Not because of a puncture in his rear
tubeless tyre, which I knew could be repaired in minutes, but because I just
realized I’d left my toolkit back at camp.
I had the standard crappy BMW toolkit under my seat, but as everyone knows
that’s pretty damn useless. I’d left my duct tap, shifting spanner, alan and
torx keys, spare clutch and brake levers behind.
Damn.
If either of the Dakar’s got a puncture we would have to repair the tubes
without taking the wheels off. I said a quick prayer to the gods of earth and
sky.
In all my travels I’d never had a puncture, and I didn’t intend on getting one this trip.
We plugged the hole/tear in 1200’s tyre in the shade of
Wuppertal.
It was getting hot out there.
The signs that things were coming apart at the seams were there for us to see,
we just didn’t recoginize them. Greg had bought 4 gas bomb with him – 3 of
which were empty, and the 4th didn’t have a thread so it was essentially
useless.
I had 2 bombs.
Both of which we used to re-inflate his tyre.
We also didn’t have that pokey thing you use to insert the
plugs into the tyre, so we hade to make do with using a leatherman.
Earlier we had discussed doing a 60km detour into Biedou valley (30kms to the
Doring river and back). We decided we’d still do it if Greg’s plugs held until
the turn off to Biedou.
They held.
And we did the detour….
That 60km detour ended up being 180kms for of blood sweat and tears, and lasted almost 24 hours.
The road through Biedou Valley was an easy ride. I’d heard so much about Biedou’s beauty beforehand I was a little disappointed. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, something more epic I suppose.
Anyway the 30kms didn’t take long and before we knew it we were at the Doring river.
ooh what a pretty little river
It was then I opened my stupid mouth. “That looks rideable.”
Greg agreed. “Let’s do it.”
“Don’t be crazy we’ll just have to come back across, we can’t get to Clanwilliam from the other side. The route is too long. The Dakkies wont have enough fuel.”
At this point Greg pulled his Oregon GPS out of his pocket.
“I’ve got Tracks for Africa loaded, lets see if there is a shortcut.”
“Sure, why not?” I agreed.
What a mistake!
still waters run deep
Greg hadn’t really used his GPS much before, and I don’t think it was
configured properly. When he asked for distances the GPS gave him the distance
as-the-crow flies, not the actual physical distance.
So when he calculated it was only 30 odd kms to the main road (R364) that lead
back to Clanwilliam he was waaaaay off.
But who was I to argue with someone else’s map reading skills?
Not wanting to be totally stupid I decided to walk the river first to test the depth. It didn’t reach my waist. The bikes should easily make it.
Greg , the most experienced rider, went first on his big GS.
Even though I’d checked the depth, he must have taken a very slightly different
line cause suddenly the GS was pretty deep. He killed the engine, but not fast
enough to stop it sucking in some water.
I waded back into the river from the far end to help him push his bike out.
Man, that thing is heavy.
Pig in the water
We were about 3 quarters of the way across, when Ross,
impatient with waiting, rode into the river.
He didn’t get very far, before hitting a submerged rock, and losing control. I
yelled at him to kill the engine.
But it was too late.
His bike already looked like a submarine, only one handlebar and a mirror poked
above the water like a periscope.
Greg and I finally got his bike to the far shore before wading back to help Ross with his drowned Dakar.
Part 3
We finally managed to haul both bikes to the far bank. Greg went back and successfully rode my bike across the river, as I didn’t think I had the skill to do it.
Our only problem now was that we were on the far side of the
river, and only one bike was operational.
Greg did not have a sparkplug wrench for his 1200 and the little Dakar one
under my seat wouldn’t fit in his cylinder.
amazingly, however, the giant GS eventually started of it’s own accord. It
didn’t idle properly and seemed to lack any power but it least it was semi
functional. The bike would return to full health by itself.
The Dakar was the real problem. It just wouldn’t start. We removed the spark
plug, but it didn’t appear as if there was any water in the cylinder.
Nothing we did would get the bike to start.
We would have to tow it up the steep embankment and try roll starting it.
The problem was that the 1200 didn’t have the power to haul the Dakar up the steep rocky slope. (it’s amazing how different the road is on this side of the river)
Towing attempt
So I managed to tow the Dakar up fairly high until I ran out
of talent and energy. There was no ways I could tow the bike all the way up the
rocky track.
Ross tried roll starting the bike, to no avail, the bitch just would not kick
into life.
By this time the 1200 was as strong as an ox again, and Greg towed the Dakar up
the hill.
he aint heavy, he's my brother
It was tough work getting all the bikes to the top of the hill, but once there
we felt a small sense of achievement, the road seemed to improve slightly,
although it was nowhere near as good as on the other side of the river.
It was almost 15kms to the turn-off indicated on Greg’s GPS.
I followed behind them, and was horrifed to see Ross’ helmet turn from side to side as he took in the view. Was he mental trying to sightsee?
Obviously! Cause a moment later he came off his bike.
I don’t mean to make light of the situation, but he looked like a footballer
rolling around on the ground clutching his leg.
We checked that he was okay, let him rest for a moment, and then shat all over
him. This is not a sightseeing tour now.
His focus had to be on the tow rope and the GS in front of him. Nothing else
mattered.
We soon got to the small road indicated on the T4A maps.
our little detour
It was hot as hell.
I guess I should also mention that neither Greg nor Ross left camp with full
hydration packs.
Both of them had run out of water.
I still had about a liter left, and an additional liter in my dry bag.
The road under normal circumstance would have been fun to ride, but we were all feeling pretty stressed and tired. And it was tough going. There were a lot of gates to open and close which sapped my strength, but I figured I had it easy compared to the other two.
Just when I thought they had gotten the hang of towing, both
bikes went down in a nasty looking spill. The big GS may have cracked its
cylinder head cause it leaked a bit of oil… but once again the bike seemed
indestructible.
Tempers were beginning to fray.
Ross and Greg soon got into the groove and got much better at towing with each
passing mile, but it was still tough going.
And it got tougher when the Dakar got a puncture in it’s front tyre.
We opted to try the tyre weld route as it was far too hot to
attempt a repair.
Ross was in such a state he was willing to leave his bike at the first farm we
came across, which just happened to be up the road.
We talked him out of it.
“It can’t be much further to Clanwilliam”, said Greg, still misreading the distances on his GPS
I rode to the farm, and managed to get some more water for
us. The lady gave me some bad news, which I relayed to my mates.
It was still another 30kms to the R364, and from there another 90kms to
Clanwilliam.
We pushed on.
But we didn’t get far before Ross’s tyre deflated again. We used the 2nd
can of Tyre Weld (this one worked).
A few kms further down the road and the plugs popped out of the 1200’s rear
tyre, so we had to repair that as well.
Petrol was now our big concern.
My Dakar, might just might make it to Clanwilliam (I had filled up in Ceres the
previous day), but the big GS was sucking down juice like no tomorrow since it
was towing the other Dakar.
We siphoned a few liters out of the stricken bike using the tube from Ross’
camelpak.
He wasn’t happy about it, as he’s just bought it for the trip.
To be continued...
- 5164 reads
Comments
Geeepizzz Cloud what a story so far!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Keep it coming
PART 4:
Reaching the R364 seemed like a significant achievement, but the day was waning. The sun was low in the sky, and if we were lucky we’d reach Clanwilliam at about sunset. Even though it was only 90kms away, it was going to be slow going. It wasn’t worth the risk exceeding 70km/h when towing a bike.
Most people who ride with me, know I like to ride at the
back. I hate having the pressure of people behind me. I always worry I’m
holding them up.
However today I had to take the lead to make sure the numerous gates we crossed
were open for the others.
My fuel reserve light came on just as we reached the Pakhuis Pass, about 27kms outside of Clanwilliam. I couldn’t believe it. I would do 370kms on a single tank with a few kms to spare.
I regularly stopped to make sure the guys were behind me. However once we started down the pass I went on ahead.
I was so thankful to finally pull into Clanwilliam. I stopped at the petrol station to fill up and quench my thirst and call my wife. I told her about our harrowing day, and that it was all okay, and I would call her again just now.
By this time I expect the others to be rolling into town. But
there was no sign of them. So I decided to head back towards pakhuis to see
where they were.
However, when I got back onto my bike I noticed my front tyre was flat.
Arghhhh. Noooooooooo!
This was my first puncture ever. Dammit. Now was not the
time. Where were my friends?
I filled the tyre at the station, and as I was pulling out I saw Greg on his
GS. He beckoned me to follow him. There was no sign of Ross.
Had I missed their arrival in town? I followed Greg, thinking he was leading me to the restaurant… but instead he continued straight through town and pulled into the provincial hospital. What the Hell?
Just then I saw Ross hobble out of a bakkie and into the hospital.
A mere 7 or 8 kms out of town, Ross had ridden over the tow
cable, and as he touched his brakes the rope went taut flipping his bike
sideways.
Un-fucking-believable.
We were so close to having made it back in one piece, but alas…
The next couple of hours were a bit of a blur. It was pretty obvious he had broken his wrist, possibly his ankle as well. His knee was swollen to the size of a grapefruit.
Skaken and stirred
To be continued…
What an adventure, Cloud. Poor Ross. He does not look like a happy bunny. Cannot wait for the next instalment.
So it's all your fault really......................
"It was then I opened my stupid mouth. “That looks rideable.”
Greg agreed. “Let’s do it.”"
What a story. I feel as if I was there.
If it wasn't for the injury I'd be chuckling!
What a trip!
Oh well it can't get worse. (Can it?????)
PART 5
It was a frantic couple of hours. The doctor and nurses bound Ross up nicely until he could be x-rayed back in Cape Town. They put him on a drip and gave him some pain killers.
It was quite frightening to watch as he almost went into
shock at one point. Numerous calls were made to the medical aid and mates back
in CT.
His girlfriend agreed to come fetch him and drive him back to CT – it would be
far quicker than waiting for an ambulance.
Still, it meant she would on arrive in Clanwilliam at about 11pm – and that they’d only get back to CT at about 2am.
I managed to organize a tow truck to fetch his bike that was
still on the side of the road.
I did numerous trips with my flat tyre between the hospital at one end of town
and the garage at the other.
A young chap called Clinton was super friendly. He called
around for me, first approaching his boss about using his bakkie, and then
getting hold of the towing service. He didn’t like the price they guy wanted to
charge us (R1900), and continued to try find an alternative.
In the end we went with the towing service since insurance would pay for it.
Clinton even offered us a shower and a bed for the night.
There was no way in hell we were gonna ride the last 50kms back to the Cederberg campsite in the dark, especially since we’d have to negotiate the Uitkyk Pass. I’ve learnt my lesson about riding at night thank you very much.
So Greg and I left Ross to get some sleep while we waited
for his girlfriend to arrive. We went for a well deserved pizza and some beers,
and then went back to the hospital to transfer him from the bed to the car.
It was almost midnight by the time we checked into the B&B. I was sore and
stiff and felt like I’d been hit by a bus.
I had a quick shower and was asleep practically the moment my head hit the pillow.
When we woke the next morning it was already cooking. The
temp today would reach high 30s. This wasn’t going to be pleasant.
We had a quick breakfast, and had to decide what to do about my puncture.
We didn’t have the tools to remove the wheel, and we weren’t too keen on
patching the tube, so we tried the last of the Tyre Weld.
It didn’t last long.
We got maybe 5kms out of town before my tyre was flat again.
Now we had no choice but to repair the tube, we got the tube
out using only 2 small tyre levers – and that was when we discovered my tyre
repair glue had burst inside the repair kit.
So Greg left me on the side of the N7 and went back into town to try find tools
to remove my wheel.
It was about 09h30 and already scorching – I was thankful for the little bit of
shade I had.
Greg returned without the tools, but with 3 repair kits he picked up at the Spar.
Since we had no more Co2 bombs we had to pump the tyre using a small foot pump.
So far so good, it looked like the patch had worked. It was only about 15kms to the Algeria turn-off – and as we got there my tyre deflated again.
Arghhhhhh!
The problem was not really the tube, but the little band of rubber, that protects it from the inside of the spokes, had disintegrated.
No amount of patching was going to save my tube. I didn’t have the skill to ride 30kms of dirt with a flat front - it would have taken us the entire day. Already most of the morning was wasted.
So Greg offered to ride my bike while I followed on the
1200. Man, that bike is comfortable. What an awesome seat!
It took us about an hour to get back to Sanddrif traveling at 20km/h
Once there, we had to pack up our gear, as well as Ross’ stuff. With the right tools and an extra tyre lever Greg made short work of removed the wheel, repairing the rubber band as best as possible and fitting a new tube.
We were practically done with the whole exercise when he
pinched the tube.
And so had to start all over again to repair it.
We finally rolled out of Sanddrif after midday.
Excellent use of an ATG dry bag
Greg - the legend, hard at work
I was pretty concerned about my tyre, having very little faith in the patch, but we got out of the Cederberg and onto the tar with no worries. By the time we reached Op-die-Berg I was getting more and more confident that it would hold.
Unfortunately, the hole in the GS’s rear tyre was proving to
be problematic.
We put some more plugs in – and once again had to inflate the tyre using a tiny
little foot pump.
I’m definitely fucking buying a compressor before my next trip.
We didn’t even get 500 meters before the plugs blew out
again.
This time we inserted 2 at once – and this seemed to work – for a few
kilometers at least. Then they too blew out.
We were down to our last 2 plugs, if we couldn’t make it work now we were
screwed.
I would be happy to make it as far as Ceres, about 30kms away… Greg had his sights set on Paarl.
We rode for a few kilometers more when Greg pulled over
again. For a second my heart sank, but then I noticed his tyre was still
inflated.
He wasn’t willing to take a risk with the plugs coming out, so we carefully
wrapped duct tape around his tyre between the knobblies.
I didn’t think it would work – but it was still there when
we got to Ceres. I tried to convince Greg to call his mates, leave his bike
there, and make a plan to collect it later.
If the duct tape and plugs didn’t hold we would be screwed especially if it
happened while in Bains Kloof where there was no cell signal.
Greg was determined to push on – so we did - at 60kms an hour.
Amazingly we made it through Mitchell’s Pass and Bain’s Kloof all the way to Wellington where we parted company.
Greg headed for Paarl, and I for CT. We both made it home safely. I rolled into my garage just after 8pm.
Ross went in for surgery on Sunday afternoon for his broken wrist. His ankle was fractured, and the swelling on his knee was not serious. Amazingly he didn’t have a single roastie.
All I know is I’m getting myself a mini compressor, and will insist everybody I ride with has at least 4 bombs and tyre glue that is not out-of-date. A proper tool kit (that’s not left at camp) is also essential
As buggered and tired as I was when I got home, I didn’t regret a single second of the trip. Sure I wish it hadn’t gone as pear shaped as it did… but hey, that’s what adventure is all about… what do you do when faced with challenges? Do you face em and make a plan or do you curl up in the fetal position and cry for mommy?
I look forward to riding that route again one day.
PS/ Sorry about the lack of pics. Many of them are on Greg’s camera, and he hasn’t sent them to me yet.
FARKKKKKKKKK !!!!!!!!
NOOOOOOO
SHAME GUYS....I feel for you.
We have all Learnt a few of those lessons
Wayne
Ride Like the Wind
Duct tape is the answer for your disintegrated strip of rubber that protects your tube. That's the first thing Cecil Penny does when you take a wheel to have a tyre changed, throw that strip away and put duct tape around the rim.
Besides the compressor, you should look at getting the Michelin ultra heavy duty tubes. 4mm Thick, they look like an extra tyre. I have been using them since I had the front blow out on the way to Oudtshoorn. My spare tubes I carry are also all Maxxis heavy duty tubes.
The lesson here folks is always check all your stuff before a trip. I remember on a trip where a friend of mine got a puncture. Don't worry I said, I have three spare tubes. But at that time they were loose in my tail bag and as it turned out, every one of them had a hole in it from chaffing, and the only one we could patch was a 19" which we squeezed into a 17" wheel.
Be prepapared for anything. Look at us all last trip out, quite a few of us sat shivering in 7 degree and rainy weather dressed in our summer riding suites. That won't happen to me again in a hurry.
Glad you are all home safe, although perhaps a little battered. I hope Ross mends soon.
Amen for duct tape. Thats exactly what we did Warren.
I should have taken pics of the duct tape wrapped around the rear wheel.
I didn't think for a second that it would last 5kms let alone 80 or more.
The enduro guys carry a number of extra-heavy-duty long cable ties in case they get a puncture. They use it to fasten the tyre to the rim so that it cannot come adrift, then ride out (slowly obviously).
Those cable ties are useful for other things too, so worth adding to your essentials on the bike.
Niel Terry's tow straps saved the day BTW.
I always have 2 of them stapped to the bike. Although we discovered having 3 would have been much better. 2 is just too short.
Niel if you have any more - I'd like to buy. Mine were left with the damaged bike.
Most hardware stores sell webbing (Midas, Builders etc) You can then have loops sewn up by any shoe repair place as found at Pick 'n Pays etc
This allows you to make up to your desired length and relatively inexpensively.
Tow Straps for Sale
I can make up sets of two separate Tow Straps, 3 x meters long with
120mm loops and a Velcro clasp for R120.00 per set of two.
Tow Straps
Anyone interested?
Cloud,I so enjoyed the trip report, I'll give you a set for Christmas! Oh you don't do Christmas, soooooo sorry!
Sounds like you guys were on Heidies???
Woohooo.... new tow straps.
I think I'll call you Santa Terry.
If we were on Heidies, we'd prbably still be out there... eating little bits of rubber for survival, and washing them down with handfuls of sand for flavor.
Folks - if you've read this ride report. Get tow straps - you'll never know when you need em.
And I will offer you guys a course at a discounted price for Christmas. It only takes a day and costs R1000.00 each with my fantastic discount. Basically we will teach you the difference between this.......
and this
Forget the tow-straps. If I learnt anything this year it is to avoid towing at all costs. It is downright dangerous. It is also illegal to tow a motorbike on a public road (and I now understand why).
Cloud, after experiencing how well towing worked for you (NOT!) I am surprised you are so keen to do it again. The bike still had to be collected, and Ross is now in hospital. Had you not had a tow rope, you would have put Ross on the 1200 as pilllion, ridden to Clanwilliam and organized a bakkie to fetch the Dakkie, and Ross would be walking right now.
For me, when Julie's bike first gave problems, if I had just parked it and called a bike collector, the cost and inconvenience would have been less, and Julie would not have had a swollen ankle for 6 months.
Vintage Cloud-Speak!:
…but the big GS was sucking down juice like no tomorrow
…It was then I opened my stupid mouth. “That looks rideable.”
…Was he mental, trying to sightsee?
…By this time the 1200 was as strong as an ox again
…The bike would return to full health by itself
…His bike already looked like a submarine, only one handlebar and a mirror poked above the water like a periscope.
…Un-fucking-believable
Great trip report, hope Ross heals well, and I chuckled out alound a few times, and then a few times more!
Vintage Cloud-Speak, indeed!
Cheers
I must admit that it is not nice to hear about injuries and hope Ross heals very quickly but I too had to chuckle at the adventure you guys had.
How many of us has been here. Your day start of with a "bang" and then there is no end in sight. One thing to another just goes wrong.
Remind me in the new year to nominate you as one of our outride leaders 
. What a adventure we will have with you
@ Charles.
You're right towing is not ideal. it is pretty dangerous, and only to be attempted if there is no alternative.
The first 2 spills were a combination of Ross not concentrating and the tow rope being too short.
Once we lengthened it it was much better.
If Ross had been a pillion on the 1200 though, he still would'nt be walking, well, not properly anyway. The passenger seat had been removed.
Actually, thinking about it now - a tow-rope is useful for pulling a bike out of tricky spots (by hand that is). So, with 20-20 hindsight, what you should have done is pulled each bike through the river with the engine off, using the tow-rope. Then you would have had 3 working bikes to continue your ride with.
Regarding the lack of pillion seat - was it removed so you would have more space to pack tools and puncture repair kits? 
If the perch gets too uncomfortable without a seat the pillion is free to stand...
Nice trip report, a great adventure to remember, glad all was safe in the end. We all learn from our experiences and next time we are stronger and more experienced from it.
Phweee! Quite an adventure. Nice report Cloud, as always.
@Warren: "I have three spare tubes. But at that time they were loose in my tail bag and as it turned out, every one of them had a hole in it from chaffing"
Tip I learnt long ago from my cycling days, is to to put the spare tubes inside old socks (the ones that get left behind when the washing machine eats the other). Works like a dream.
PS: Was this the same, or a different river crossing where Attie & others had built a raft to take bikes across?
Hmmn, I can see a seperate thread developing here - to tow or not to tow?
I (and am sure many others) was taught to tow on various Country Trax courses, and I always carry a towing strap (2).
Some months back, when David Cade's fuel guage played up, I towed him 10k or so, on tar admittedly.
It saved heaps of time, we were both hyper-aware of the perils (not dangers, i.m.o.) of towing, and towing then lessened the impact of this interuption on the group.
I have been towed, once or twice, and towed others a good couple of times, and I agree it is potentially dangerous but I do feel with the correct length of tow strap, having practiced a few times, and being hyper-aware that this is an abnormal activity, make it less hazardous.
I also had to tow a KTM rider - I have the pics - back to Ceres on a tar road - hazards on, 40km/hour, a discussion about what each rider would be doing, and THEN communication THROUGHOUT the tow, saved a stranded biker.
My experience only - YMMV.
Cheers
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