A TT500, a CRF300L and 43 years that separate them

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Dorsland

Bachelor Dog
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In 1981, after I klaared out of the army, I had a job at Main Yamaha in Johannesburg city centre (yes really) as a parts salesman. For a number of reasons – among others it allowed me to become sort of human again after starting national service at 17 and on active duty as a bokkop 18 years old, I was earning money, had no responsibilities and the '80s were the motorcycle boom years – 1981 will live forever as the best year of my life. Coming to work every morning, the sight of a brand new TT500 that greeted me daily, soon led to me buying this "enduro" version of the legendary XT500. The fact that it had no lights, indicators nor instruments and was not roadworthy was not an issue to me in those days of my wild youth.

That TT500 became my DKW (dans, kerk, werk) bike. Initially I used it to make full use of my newfound freedom, visiting the girls, riding with my friends, fooling around on the local veld track, exploring dirt roads to the north of Johannesburg and west of Roodepoort. Back in those days Preston Petty Products were the go-to accessory guys and I fitted a rudimentary head- and taillight. Oh, and a number plate. Despite this, I got busted a number of times and eventually added a XJ650 as a road legal commuter and general transport. The Lipchick brothers, Rodney and Darryl, owners of Main Yamaha, made it easier for me to buy the 2 bikes by promoting me to branch manager (nogal) of their newly opened Orkney branch where they sold mostly YB50s and YB100s by the dozens to mostly black mine workers.

But the TT was still my favourite bike. It was a bike that wore a number of very diverse hats. My horizons expanded and I did a rowwe trip down to Durban, then down the south coast, through the Transkei down to a girlfriend in PE, sleeping in my army sleeping bag, mostly on the beaches and eating at a Wimpy. It will always remain the greatest sadness that that freedom of movement has been forever lost in a society gone down the tubes, never to be regained.

At some stage I replaced the forks with IT490 forks and Marzocchi shocks and had a some mods done to the motor. Then I competed in a few enduros like the Barberspan 500, the Toyota 1000 Desert Race in Botswana and a few Bapsfontein cross country races. I remember doing a race out near Hartebeespoort dam that was more walking and paddling than actual racing. It would have been more appropriate as a trials event than an enduro event.

The following year, when I started studying in PE and the girl I had visited the previous year started going steady (remember that?), I used the TT as a – still unroadworthy bike – into a commuter, adventure bike (the term hadn't been trademarked yet) and general runaround. Despite the PE wind! It lived on the verandah – unlocked and unsecured – of the beautiful historical old house up in Central where I boarded. Charmaine and I toured the Ciskei, Transkei, the Eastern Cape flat on that TT. We slept under my army bivvy, on my grondseiltjie, me in my army sleeping bag inner and she in my sleeping bag. We still ate at the Wimpy. I wore my denims, takkies, T-shirt and a down waistcoat. I did make a concession to ATGATT by wearing gloves, a Bell Moto III with goggles and Fox gloves. Those times were my own personal Woodstock.

I eventually sold the TT to a friend of mine who enjoyed it for a number of years thereafter. I moved on to road bikes, breakfast runs, Eastern Transvaal tours, Hazyview white knuckle trips, Highpoint and Fontana in Hillbrow and down Louis Botha drive to The Dollhouse roadhouse in Orange Grove.

En toe gaan boer ek.
 
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