Mystery Tour - Anysberg Nov 2006

Brenda-Buttercup's picture
Charles is still too tired to pay any attention to me so I snuck in and took over his session on this forum. Hmm, judging by all the coffee cups around his desk it looks like this PC is his other mistress - just you wait until we face another sand patch :( The mystery tour certainly had me fooled - we started off on the N7 and I thought we would be going up the West Coast. Meeting at the Swartland Engen 1-Stop: Hmm, I wonder if there is enough time to go to the loo before Geoff kits up?Meeting at the Swartland Engen 1-Stop: Hmm, I wonder if there is enough time to go to the loo before Geoff kits up? Brenda sucks up to Geoff's AdventureBrenda sucks up to Geoff's Adventure This was at the Engen 1-stop on the N7 at about 7am. The dog's food bowl makes a lovely campers' dishwashing basin, and doubles as parabolic reflector for starting camp-fires and signalling helicopters for help when you run out of fuel... I was even hoping Charles might get a chance to take me up the mountain road to his property [http://finebushpeople.co.za Fijnbosch Farme] if we went anywhere near Aurora. Geoff decides he has had enough of the West Coast now: Now where was that map - oh here, on a Wimpy napkin...Geoff decides he has had enough of the West Coast now: Now where was that map - oh here, on a Wimpy napkin... We rode quite some distance on dirt and tar, mostly east to lunch at Touwsrivier. The road to TouwsriverThe road to Touwsriver This must be Hennie's steed - since he took all these photos and this looks like the kind of picture only a parent would take ... I don't like riding on dirt with full tyres (my feet are quite knobbly) and all the rattling loosened the rubber bushes that hold my screen. Luckily Charles is very attentive to my needs and he tightened the screen before it became a problem. Ruan blasts his way to lunchRuan blasts his way to lunch Ruan's custom pipes were a bit loud (and rude to a refined thing like me), but I think it might be jealousy talking. Lunch in TouwsriverLunch in TouwsriverLunch breakLunch break Behind the unassuming exterior of this hotel, lies an even less assuming restaurant where the food is served at 30 degrees (five below room temperature). The beers were cold though. Ruan's dad: Bike and stomach full, now ready to roll...Ruan's dad: Bike and stomach full, now ready to roll...Hier sit die manne: Come Geoff, what's taking so long?Hier sit die manne: Come Geoff, what's taking so long? Brenda and Rosie: Little did their owners realise that they had interrupted a giggling session...Brenda and Rosie: Little did their owners realise that they had interrupted a giggling session...Geoff and Adri: Geoff is such a babe-magnet that Phillip let his wife Adri ride with him!Geoff and Adri: Geoff is such a babe-magnet that Phillip let his wife Adri ride with him! Neil and Jane: Neil is arguing with the gloves about whose turn it is to sit in front.Neil and Jane: Neil is arguing with the gloves about whose turn it is to sit in front.Gunther ready for anythingGunther ready for anything Red Adventure: In blue.Red Adventure: In blue. By the time we reached Greyton my hopes of skimming over sand had been dashed, and the graded dirt roads didn't hold much attraction for me anymore. Little was I to know that things were going to get very interesting, very quickly. Flip, what happened?: Why do routes always look easy in photographs?Flip, what happened?: Why do routes always look easy in photographs? We entered a twin-track on the Anysberg reserve, with a speed limit of 40km/hr. I could feel that Charles was getting a bit slapgat, not standing up in the tricky bits. So, when we got to some hardened mud tracks I pranced from left to right a few times and nearly bucked the poor man right off! He got such a fright he let Ruan pass him on a rather dapper-looking Dakar, and then resolved to watch when Ruan stood up so that he had some advance warning of interesting sections. Eventually, we met up with a lovely lady in a landcruiser, who chatted to Geoff (who is now my hero - what a nice man that is ;-) . At first I thought she had told him to turn around, because he did not continue on the road but seemed to be about to do a u-turn. Then my little fuel-pump leapt with delight when I saw that actually the route was now going offroad in the truest sense of the word. This is what I was born to do. Charles was not quite as delighted - because I could hear him swallow hard, then grab a sip from his camelback to lubricate his now dry mouth. The bike in front of me slipped and bounced and skidded slowly and painfully over the big round river rocks down a long, steep incline. I couldn't wait to run down there, but Charles (bless his little cotton socks) held me back by standing on my back brake! Sandy river bed: good place for a lie-downSandy river bed: good place for a lie-down At the bottom of this incline (and only later did the realization strike poor Charles that he would need to come back up the next morning), was a slightly sandy stretch that had Charles weaving all over. Just as he felt relieved to be through it, I rounded the corner to reveal a riverbed of deep sand, with some disturbing tracks and gouges that hinted of difficulty ahead. I felt Charles' knees quiver as he stood up, tried to look up, and opened up. I can only imagine the look of terror on his face because I had to focus on getting him through the sand and the rather deep water on the other side, full of big boulders, then the steep incline (you know me, I always want to do the right thing). Some of us had a tough timeSome of us had a tough time Around the campfire later people said that those too close behind us had a tough time of it because poor Charles seemed to weave through all the sand on both sides of the track, and most of the river, before I gathered my strength and bounded him out of there before he did us any damage by finding the boulder in the water that he seemed to be searching for. Charles' relief was palpable, so much so that he tapped off just when he should have been opening up again, and with his puny little pins for legs he could not stop me from lying down on my side. As a result of Charles' acrobatics in the river bed, Neil and Jane had had a little mishap, and to embarrass me even further, Jane (feisty young lass that she is) not only helped Neil lift his 1200, but came and helped Charles (who is not a large man), lift me from where he had ignomiously dropped me in the sand. Good hunting: Hennie managed to bag himself an almost new GS1200 and was well pleased with the day's hunting.Good hunting: Hennie managed to bag himself an almost new GS1200 and was well pleased with the day's hunting. After all this exertion Charles was rather shaken - I could hear him panting desperately inside his helmet, and it was quite some time before he could gather himself enough to continue. However, success eluded Charles yet again, even though I told him to stick to the left track he insisted on staying right and so I put my foot down in the soft thick sand and sent him flying (serves him right). This time Dudley came to our rescue. Now there is a big man - hmmm. Of course Charles tries to continue through that soft patch and to teach him a lesson I dig my heel in. Gunther begging for mercy: That day cowboys cried in front of their steedsGunther begging for mercy: That day cowboys cried in front of their steeds A few of those big 1200 hunks came past - their riders paddling them through with their legs. One rude fellow chose the soft side and sprayed sand in my eyes as he struggled to get through. Charles, poor thing, was so tired that he took some time off to make a pretense of having a drink, and letting more air out of my tyres. Took me right down to 1.1 bar, which had me a bit nervous what with all the rocks about. Dudley and some other nice men helped dig me out and pushed me back a bit so Charles could get going again. Then they left and my idiot rider tried to get going again in totally the wrong way. Aikona! Tch! I dug my heels in again. Charles tried to lift me out using the sidestand, and rocking me and various pathetic little attempts. By now he was totally shattered. Eventually, all that remained of our party was myself, stuck in the sand, a shattered little man, a woman in a Landcruiser bakkie, and Geoff (my hero). Wimp-boy stumbled over to the bakkie and I overheard him begging Geoff to let him leave me here overnight and give him a lift to the campsite in the bakkie! Bastard! There is no way I was going to brave the dark all alone while those hunks (I particularly liked the look of that Red Adventure Smiley all had a party without me. Luckily Geoff (my hero) would have nothing of it. He told Charles to sit down and keep the weight on my back wheel (what little he could muster, being only about 65kg) while Geoff pushed me out. Charles was still poepping himself, because he had seen some commotion ahead earlier, just before the trail climbs out of the river bed. Jane and Neil and several others had had a spot of bother there. The only consolation was that Colette (the lovely reserve manager) had indicated that this was the last of the sand. Anyway, Charles was too shattered even to stand up - so I carried him home like a horse does a wounded cowboy whom his buddies have tied to the saddle. With Geoff following, I limped Charles to the camp. The road was very stony, but with my soft tyres I carried the poor chap in gently. Camp Dam: For the riders this was apparently an attraction - us bikes kept well awayCamp Dam: For the riders this was apparently an attraction - us bikes kept well away When the windmill and the other bikes came into view, I was very chuffed. Even more so when Charles parked me right in the middle of the other bikes, right next to Red Adventure (and another pleasant girl by name of Rosy - but she was too young for Big Red luckily). Only then did I realise that my right ear was sore, bent at an angle. Shattered rider: Charles was 43 when we started the trip...Shattered rider: Charles was 43 when we started the trip... The camp was great. Charles had a swim in the dam while I chatted to Big Red and the others. Some of the bikes were a bit loud, but I wasn't impressed - I come from a good family where the strong silent type is valued above loudmouths. The braai took a bit long to prepare, and Charles was dead on his feet by the time he was finished eating. (Apparently the food was excellent, and from where I was the round fire-pit with the riders clustered around it and Neels and Annemarie preparing the food looked really inviting). Bike Braai: By the time we arrived, Geoff (my hero) had already unpacked and assembled a cunningly-crafted travelers' braai-circle and grid from his pannier.Bike Braai: By the time we arrived, Geoff (my hero) had already unpacked and assembled a cunningly-crafted travelers' braai-circle and grid from his pannier. Charles went to bed halfway through Hennie's story. I listened to it with half an ear (!) because that's all I had left and because Red Adventure was whispering sweet nothings in my direction. Ooh he is such a naughty fellow! The stars were absolutely magnificent and the night was crystal. In the distance it sounded like Jacques was sawing down the stable, and the refugees that had tried to bed down in that vicinity one-by-one gave up the fight and came to sleep on the stoep on the other side of the dam. HungoverHungover Sunday morning was pristine. Gradually the camp stirred as the sun rose, the birds started chirping, and a huge bloukoppie came out to inspect the damage to his mud-brick ruin from the night before. Some chaps had a swim. Everyone had a hearty breakfast prepared in the stable by Neels and Annemarie, but soon the sun was so warm the guys that had gotten up early and had finished prepping their bikes and packing their gear were squeezing into the shade of the two trees while the others basked or slaved away. Geoff and Philip: Everybody was thirsty except GeoffGeoff and Philip: Everybody was thirsty except Geoff As the departure time approached, I could sense great excitement amongst the bikes. Some were a bit nervous about whether their riders would do something silly and end up hurting them. Amongst the humans I noticed an increase in nervous laughter and I even heard Charles polling various people on how to handle sand. Shame, poor fellow. Some okes were telling him to stand up, look up and open up (and some said it was not throttle, but his legs that he had to open up). Geoff (my hero) apparently told Charles to paddle his way through sand patches when it was too rocky to open up. The chefs: Somewhat sheepishly the cooks realise that they left behind the most important item - their white cook hats!The chefs: Somewhat sheepishly the cooks realise that they left behind the most important item - their white cook hats! Now, that Ruan fellow is another story. While most riders were getting contemplative about the return journey through the war zone, he was getting more and more itchy feet and eager to go. When we finally got going (Geoff (my hero) in front), Ruan took off after him like a mad thing. Apparently riding in the dunes at Atlantis does that to one. I wish I had spoken a bit more to his Dakar about that, but that bike was a bit rude with modified pipes and a loud mouth. Philip and Adri: Phillip tries not to let on that he is glad Adri still has all her faculties and limbs.Philip and Adri: Phillip tries not to let on that he is glad Adri still has all her faculties and limbs. When Charles finally dug up the courage to take off down the first incline I could feel that he was very shaky. I couldn't wait. I even managed to trick him into thinking I was in second gear when I was actually trotting along much better in third and cantering over the stones - what fun! Charles just hung on for dear life, but what do I care... Jane, Neil and Hennie: Neil swears on his bike that he did not put that portrait of Hennie in the neat little picture frames so thoughtfully provided by BMW on the handlebars of their new range.Jane, Neil and Hennie: Neil swears on his bike that he did not put that portrait of Hennie in the neat little picture frames so thoughtfully provided by BMW on the handlebars of their new range. I think many of the other riders were holding back their bikes - nobody seemed too keen to race ahead (except Ruan off course, and Geoff (my hero)). I know Charles was being a bit of a wuss. I could hear his sigh of relief when he got to a steep drop into a stony riverbed and saw that he had to wait because someone was stopped at the bottom waiting for some incident around the corner to clear. He was panting like a frightened rabbit, sucking on his camelback like it was a dummy, and his sweaty palms were making his gloves wet on my handlebars. I was so eager to go when the bike below moved on, but Charles held back under the pretext of allowing them to get through the obstacle. When he finally let me go, he braked all the way down the incline, with both the back and the front brake! Idiot! I nearly threw him off right there - and I think he realised how stupid he was being because I heard some very unladylike language under his breath. Anyway, he left the front brake, which is just as well because it was all I could do to avoid a spill on those rocks. At one point it was touch and go and Charles managed, for once, to keep me from toppling with his puny pins. All the while, the frightened rabbit bit continues, because Charles knows that the worst is still to come. None of this is helped by our passing Gunther on a rather snappy looking yellow GS1200, with Geoff (my hero) in attendance doing surgery to the front mudguard with a spanner. It seems the rocks got that bike a good one! Before we know it it is upon us. (Funny how the same route that seemed like 25km the day before seems like only 2.5km in the morning). The first is a steep drop onto soft sand, and Charles opts for the "stand up, look up, open up" routine. It works! We get through. At the next bit of soft sand Charles keeps to the other track and manages to get through that as well. Tired bikes: need a rest from time to time...Tired bikes: need a rest from time to time... Then the patch of sand where Charles first put me down. The fool tries the pedalling option, but his pathetic little legs cannot help much and before I know it he is dragging his left leg and we go down on that side. That is how I twisted off my left ear. Now, I can see the other bikes gathered at the top of the last incline, in the road, watching the sports as we traverse the river, deep soft sand, then the climb out. Charles, as per usual, stops and ponders his navel at the start. Such a baby - he even asks the first of the guys queueing up behind him which route he should take through the water and the sand. If I had my way I would sommer take all the routes! Anyway, Charles' route is a good one - he gets through the water with enough momentum to deal with the sand, then around a sandy corner and he guns me up the rocky incline. Everybody watching us laughs at Charles, because he is such a serious oke he pulls the most indescribable faces when he is concentrating Wink Charles gets to watch some bikes come through. The last chap (I think it is Gunther) has run out of moed altogether, and Geoff goes down to ride his bike through for him. Of course Ruan volunteers himself to go and fetch Gunther, but Gunther declines the offer (wisely I thought when I saw how Ruan's rude bike came flying back over the rocks Wink Then we set off down the twin-track, back the way we came. Charles is lekker confident because things can only get better. Compared to what we were on the twin-track is a highway... Geoff turns off the track on the right at a house and big dam and parks under the trees. We had pulled ahead of some of the other bikes, and when they finally come down the road, they are so hell-bent on catching up their eyes are glued to the road and they don't see us. So off they go barrelling down the road, doomed to a life of trying to catch up to nothing. You get two guesses as to whom it was that dropped everything and jumped on their bike to give chase. No, not Geoff (my hero), it was Ruan... Now we are headed through some game reserves, game farms and private land along a twin-track with some sandy patches. We pass a gemsbok, and Charles is in such a dwaal that even though the rider in front is pointing at it Charles puts on his indicator and prepares to turn! Eventually he spots the buck (it was right there, about 50m away, watching us) and points it out to Dudley behind him. The big, long sandy patch was OK. I would have made it if Charles hadn't tapped off right at the end. My front foot dug in and we veered off the road and came to a stop. Again the puny pins could not push me out of the sand, and Geoff (my hero) came and pushed us out yet again (thanks - you are now my superhero Wink. At least we did not fall again (I was out of ears anyway), which you might say is a 100% improvement on the day before. Dirt HighwayDirt Highway Eventually we emerged onto a graded road and the sports was over - after what we had been through the graded dirt roads are positively pedestrian. I think Charles had had enough for the weekend, but I did hear him thanking Geoff (my superhero) and saying that he thoroughly enjoyed the trip - so I guess we are in for more fun in the future. In Ceres the riders went into a lovely oasis called 'Skibas' and left us outside under a tree. I got Big Red's email address Wink Oops, I must wrap this up now before Charles gets back from watching TV and catches me sitting on his chair. Let me just say he drove through Bain's Kloof like a girl. Jane would have given me a better run of it. Till next time - keep your ears about you... regards Brenda Buttercup