Archive of BMW Motorrad Club Cape (2006 - 2019)

Saturday 29^th May 2010

Area: Nieuwoudtville

Riders Geoff Russell, Andyman and Herman (Geoff's internet date)

The bikes:

• 2010 spec R 1200GSA
• 2007 spec R 1200 GS
• 2004 spec R 1150GSA

This time I was early, not a very usual thing for me.

The instruction said,

“Meet at my house, 07H15 for an early start, the boss.”

On Friday night, between Absolute Rugby and Absolute Formula 1, I prepared for the early start.

This means a simple process of loading the pockets of my safety gear with items from a list and loading items onto my bike from another list.

All items come out of shelves in the garage, annoyingly (to my family) neatly stowed in racks in my bike specific side of the garage.

With preparations done, I loaded the route to Geoff’s house on the GPS, charged the bike-cam and mobile phone and went to bed.

 Waterfall in a kloof: We just had to stop and admire this rare sight in the Karoo

The first of many passes: This pass got the juices really flowingAnd some open spacesHerman closes the gate: Groot Herman en sy 1200GSHoofseun and the downed bike: He walks away quickly in case someone thinks its his fall

 The bike at rest,: Note the gouge in the road from the tappet cover on the left and the right track is my body impact path - running to the helmutbetter image of the impact sites: bike impact and my body impact sites. Eina!!!

At 06H00 exactly I departed fully prepared and while fuelling up down the road, kicked myself for forgetting my snap-shot camera.

The cold was there too. as little as 1 degree of it!

You have no idea how much I enjoy leaving the village on a bike prep’d for a sortie. Even if I do this three times a month, that feeling of Freedom and adventure feels just like it did the first time.

Even better because after three yrs, I have accumulated the right gear of the right quality.

I’m off on an adventure.

After a cup of coffee and rusks at Geoff’s the two of us left at 07H02. Temp 1ºC

Geoff led to the N7, so close to his house it’s almost unfair. No wonder he makes /Engen Swartland his start points. 

Bastard!

It’s on his back doorstep!

As we ride the cold insinuates its merciless way chilling to the marrow.

Heated grips may keep hands warm, but thumbs get icy.

It takes me a while to figure that Geoff’s slow speed of 105kph  - Yes 1-0-5  - is deliberate to arrive at 08H00 pronto at the Moorreesburg weighbridge and his rendezvous with #3, his internet date, only known as Herman.

I wondered at the wisdom here, did he not listen to his mother?

Internet dating is dodgy most of the time.

But apparently Herman contacted Geoff offering fresh intel when he read on the internet of the BMW club’s planned ride to the Nieuwoudtville area in June.

Geoff recce’s roads before trips and so invited Herman.

I come along as plaster-bearer and toolbox.

We approached the RV point at 07H59 and there was H, astride a 2007 spec 1200GS, the butts on the ground evidence that he was reliably early, a sign that impresses the hoofseun.

And we’re off.

Andyman riding TEC (Tail end Charlie) or cambian (sweep).

But I’m also the undisputed king of overtaking with no real competition yet found, it’s not too long and an opportunity I simply cannot resist raises its evil head -  while H is still debating the wisdom of making an overtake move on a semi, I felt the Devil’s spur nudge my ribs and I was gone, -   like a rat out of an aqueduct-   passed Herman and passed the semi and back in the lane with at least 2 metres to spare as the oncoming driver took a wake-up call.

Herman, who up to then had been keeping a very generous following distance to hoofseun, nodded his head, saw how we ride- tucked in close formaiton- and responded in kind.

I was tucked in on Geoff’s 7, Herman soon took up on my 5, just metres off me and we rode in tight formation, bonded in our love of adventure biking, kindred spirits, flying to Klawer. Soon Herman was also very boldly overtaking and three bikes became one. I had the camera mounted on the right crash bar and got some excellent footage of formation flying.

With Green day and Peter Gabriel serenading me in my headset I was seduced by the early monirng smells of freshly tilled soil, wet heather, and fynbos. Does it get any better?

Over a Wimpy brekkie in Klawer, we got to know Herman better, he us, and we were content. I re-set the camera into its helmut mount.

Some 20 clicks  North we hooked off the N7, right on the R27, dirt and the ritual of tyre pressure prep took place.

Riding tec, I was in seventh heaven.

Y’see as tec, you have a relaxed office,

no ‘buddy’ to watch for on your 6, no route decisions to make,

stop when bike in front stops, go when that bike moves off. You have time to slip into thunk without feeling guilty, or letting the team code down.

The dirt trip

The area had enjoyed heavy rain recently.

Soon we were on farm roads, off the R’s (R27, R364) & we had gates.

The order of the day was to cope with standing water, wet sandveld, rivers, wash-aways, mud, snot ruts, ruts, more ruts and lots of technical riding.

Some roads had been made treacherous by recent agricultural traffic, leaving deep the ruts, churned up mud and all irregular as they had evidently slipped and slid around in the snot quite a bit.

It was soon clear why I was very relaxed;  because Herman was extremely competent and was well bonded with his GS.

I had no worries or responsibilities. 

I did not find myself mentally going over emergency medical management or planning my moves from " ‘get koki', start the stop-watch, assign a messenger, unload the kit, take vital signs and the sort of stuff I do on group trips.

I was a bit frustrated in the technical stuff sometines, suppose Herman was too,  because with three different models we all had different gearing so I was toggling from 4 to 3 to 2 and back again very often to avoid overunning the bike ahead.

I ride fast through sand and snot because my bike is so heavy and speed is stable. So I'd slack off then give it a burts through snot noly to run up close to Herman.

I was faintly & pleasantly surprised to find my camera discipline was now instinctive and I was taking 1 min to 3 minute shoots with no conscious thought. Having a vid-cam in the office is relatively new to me, so I’ve been having to give it lots of mental input recently.

Nothing is more boring than watching ten mins of the same riding film at a time later.

We made very few stops, no surprise on a Geoff trip, he does not easily indulge in “Wow” moments or “Kodak” moments. Tending more to stick with the business of chasing his destiny.

Which was a pity as names like “Oorlogs Kloof” and “Driekop Sloote” beg you to stop and look around the Gifberge a bit more.

We rode in the close formation some consider reckless and dangerous. And yes it bloody well is, but what the F, when you know your wingmans skills and you know their comfort zone and you have the skills too, you remove a lot of the danger element from the job.

All in all the pace was good, the terrain was tricky because of the water.

At one 7 second stop, Geoff did comment that if it had been dry, we would have been struggling through typical Sandveld beach sand.  How true, how true!

I lost count of the number of farm gates we stopped to open/close, half of which were open, but we soon had a routine of leader stopping to open the gate, #2 going through and dismounting to close it after #1 & #3  were through then the catch-up chase back to the group, often enough to find the next gate round the next bend.

Sheep were a constant problem. Unpredictable. Emergency stop maneuvers were not uncommon as we took evasive action.

At one point two sheep ran heavily straight into my right side, Bike escaped 6-love. I saw the brown one jump back up and run off, but the white one seemed to move much slower. I stopped at the next opstal but there was no one around to report it to.

We had climbed through klowe and passes and down again and up again through the most awesome scenery, fantastic vistas from up top and mesas all around, tall, majestic and long.

We crossed countless rivers, many times the road was the river.

Herman bucked his front tyre off the bead and lost all pressure, but we soon pumped it up and were off again.

Andyman buys a huge farm.

At midday+48, I closed a gate and mounted, toggled the ‘record’ key, stood up and let the clutch out. Skimming across the surface I had the benefit of the spoor of the bikes ahead as a tell tale of the road surface stability. Footage shows we were the only traffic in recent days. a normal day in the office.

Using the spoor as my guide to road consistency I was soon at 90, then 100 kph, reading the tracks of the two bikes and adjusting my line to optimise on their story.

Jumping wash-aways I was glad I’d set my pre-load on both front and back suspension to harder than normal.

And then trees, many trees and close to the road.

Rounding  a bend was a long wash-away, then a river, then a big mud patch. I saw one spoor leave the road and go into the veld, the other go through, wiggle waggle desperately and then recover and keep going.

Geoff was stopping, a sure sign of clear and present danger.

I dumped some speed, dropped a gear and then committed.

How could I know he was urgently dismounting to warn me.

Too late. I was down hard. Very HARD! - Catastrophic dynamic roll-over!

 I remember seeing a huge sign  “Farm for SALE” written in mud.

Thankfully, the soundtrack and footage shows I never slacked off and never looked down.

Now in the world of bikers, that’s a huge pride issue, if you look down you go down. do not panic.

Everything went very quiet.

I was very sore. My world was very dark. I could not see.

I knew if I saw someone in a white jacket it would either be a doctor or Saint Peter.

I knew I was not dead as I had not seen my arsehole and I understamd thats the last thing you see when killed by a sudden fall as it goes through your brain!

Then I heard Geoff tending to the bike, switching the ignition off, looking for damage and soon he would come to me.

He was muttering about how medics and mechanics ought not to become patients, and were bloody idiots if they did.

He asked me to lie still as my helmut was full of mud.

Relieved, I undid it and removed it and he sluiced my eyes clean.

The right pot had gouged a deep track, and my windscreen extension was in three pieces.  The bike went down on the RHS and slid, it did not jump up and fall again and again.

We righted the bike, made an inspection and, as expected, there was nothing to report.

Three minutes later, I was back in the saddle, and ready to roll.

Herman had come back, true to blood to see what the delay was as his next gate was not far off.

Instinct told him what to expect and he was relieved to find us about to move off again.

When you look at the way I fell, the speed and the impact of been thrown, you gotta love safety gear.

Apart from a sore right bum, I was in no discomfort and off we went.

I did not bother to refit the camera to helmut, we seemed to need to make up time.

Soon we turned South again, heading for the Moedverloor road. Gates, gates and more gates. I asked Geoff to hold up a mo so we could eat and Herman was dying for a smoke. I dug into my medical kit and soon was chewing painkillers like peppermints. My right hip was now cold and stiff and it affected my riding.

I was getting dodgy into left handers (my Achilles heel on dirt)

After 3 minutes (no lies) Geoff announced it was 69 kilos to Clan William.  Then he remade his announcement again in Afrikaans.

This in Geoff speak means – “We’ve run out of time, we need to get moving, not taking prisoners. Andy don’t’ delay at gates, just ride through”

I understand Geoff-speak so translated for Herman.

After all, We needed to be at a TV to watch the Stormers beat shit out of the Blue Bulls in the Epic Super 14 clash in Orlando stadium at 17H00.

I got going, stealing a few moments here and there on the hoof to program my GPS for various towns to see where we’d be at 17H00 kick-off time.

The chase was on, the painkillers were on overtime, the sugar rush was in my blood and the 1150GSA was unstoppable.

I led the pack those fast 69k’s into Clanwilliam.

I’m angry that tar roads had encroached on our dirt right up to Engelsman se graf.

We pumped fuel and tyres and then I was tec again, Geoff was not taking prisoners.

My GPS testifies that we ran the road to Moorreesberg in 40 minutes.

err, ....that’s normally a 70 minute trip.

Geoff tore off home, I retired to Herman’s house in Riebeek Kasteel a good few minutes before kick-off to watch the Stormers lose to a much better team.

My oath the Bulls were good!

Then the ride home, 180 kilos away was more relaxed as I basked in the memories of a really eventful day, mentally rolling back the film of all those ravines, gullies, mountains, passes, open veld and many many side roads, all begging to be ridden.

Another time… I will be back.

Herman is a huge bloke, a lovely slow platteland drawl, rolls his ‘r’s & with a sense of humour as dry as the Karoo and a very capable wingman. But he needs more smoke breaks or he won’t ride with Geoff in a hurry.

Highs – definitely the fantastic scenery.

Low’s- definitely having a clock to chase. Bad form, bad form.