Cederberg - Bidou Valley, 2nd time unlucky
- Thread starter Dustdevil
- Start date
Gee eS
Race Dog
Very nice pics. Cant wait for the rest 
Malibu
Bachelor Dog
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Oooooh, another series of DD's pics... can't wait!
bradleys
Race Dog
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Nice pic ,cant wait for more :thumleft:
P
Plore
Guest
Come on Waiting
mountainboy
Race Dog
bloody tease :
durtseeker
Race Dog
Come on!
Where's the rest? I'm heading that way next weekend :ricky:
Where's the rest? I'm heading that way next weekend :ricky:
Stofdonkie
Grey Hound
:clock:
Mark Hardy
Grey Hound
Stofdonkie said:
tick tock tick tock
Dustdevil
Race Dog
Hi guys, sorry this is taking so long but I promise the story to be posted here before the end of Monday, + 25 more great images.
Dustdevil
Race Dog
The footprint for our route this weekend started almost 10 years ago when I decided one beautiful autumn Sunday morning to go for a final ride on the R80GS I was in the process of selling.
At the time I was not sure exactly where I was going to end up but I knew I wanted to get into the Cederberg, as this was one area that I have never visited before.
My route took me through Ceres and then north over Prins Alfreds Hamlet to Op die Berg where I turned left in an eastern direction. Shortly after, the road would turn to gravel as it also veered of into a northern direction disappearing into the spectacular Cederberg valleys.
The first section of gravel road was very well used but in real good shape and I was making good time till I arrived at someone standing next to his upturned pickup beside the road.
The accident seemed to very fresh so I pulled over to check if the driver was okay.
It turned out to be one of the local farmers living only a short distance down the way.
When asking him if he needed help he informed me that he had the accident in the morning already and he was waiting for someone on a tractor to arrive to tow the badly damaged pickup back to the farm. He explained that being so used to travelling on this road and knowing it like the back of his hand that he was caught by surprise by some loose gravel on the bend causing the car to skid of the side of the road where the pickup hit a large stone on the side of the road and flipped over the car.
Interested in the bike, the farmer started chatting and I explained to him where I was going and that I would like to drive to Wuppertal. He then proceeded to tell me about a small road, not normally shown on regular road maps, which will take me straight over the mountain past Eselbank, entering Wuppertal from the south. In fact the turnoff was only a short distance in the direction I was travelling and is far shorter than the alternative route taking me past Algeria and Clanwilliam driving south into Wuppertal that according to regular road maps end up into a dead-end.
This road turned out to make a real impression on me, some of the things I recall was the endless washboard, I mean to the point where me head was itching endlessly from the shaking of the badly fitting cheap Lafe helmet I was wearing at time and the taxi that roared past me at break neck speed on a very narrow strip of the road while battling to keep the bike upright in the sandy patch just before reaching Eselbank, and who can ever forget the incredible rugged mountain formations of the area. When you see it for the first time you will also know why it is called the Red Cederberg.
Down in Wuppertal I needed to make a decision whether to return to Cape Town via Clanwilliam and the N7, real boring, or if I should follow a route through the Bidou valley that will eventually meet up with the R355 between Calvinia and Ceres, this road being known as the longest stretch of road between two towns in South Africa, over 300 kilometres of mostly gravel surfaced road.
My decision would mostly rest on whether I would be able to get petrol in this sleepy little village on a Sunday.
After asking one of the locals about petrol they pointed to a house where I can go and ask as the pump is closed at the moment but the owner might open up.
A few moments later I was driving my bike up to the church with the petrol pump right next to it. The owners 14 year, or so old grandson was send out to help me fill up and instead of filling the bike myself I let him do it, only to see moments later how he accidentally overfilled the tank with petrol just overflowing everywhere dripping down on the hot cylinder heads. For moments I had visions of another similar GS that went up in flames in Namibia shortly after it was filled with petrol and some of it overflowed and set the bike on fire.
Nothing happened though and with a full tank of fuel I was set to tackle the Bidou valley.
One thing I learned from this trip was that you should never set out with half of a 500ml Coke. Fortunately I filled the empty 500ml container in Wuppertal with water but even 500ml of water was inappropriately insufficient. If I got stranded or even had a flat in the scorching desert heat I would become dehydrated in such a short space of time.
It turned out that that was exactly what happened. Reaching the Doring river at the end of the Bidou valley I was stunned to find a dry river bed about seventy five yards across scattered with big black boulders filled in between with soft white river sand deep soft river sand. It was obvious that only 4x4s is ever going across this river and I was not sure if I was going to make this on my own. The thought of doubling back the thirty-five or so kilometres down the Bidou valley and the horrible stretch of N7 plus the fact that I was already halfway down the steep, sandy, narrow river bank leaving very little possibility of turning around a 200kg behemoth of a BMW made me waste only a few seconds pondering the possibilities before dropping the clutch and going for it. At the time a still did not appreciate the value in standing on the pegs in this kind of situation and I was only about ten or fifteen yards into the river bed before I got stuck, the back wheel just spinning effortlessly in the soft sand. The bike was sitting to low in the sand to use either the centre or side stand and with no one nearby to help I went down on my knee holding the left grip in one hand and starting to dig with the right. It turned out that it was only a stone in the sand. Moments later I was moving again until I reached the opposite bank where two really thick banks of sand was awaiting me. As I hit the first one I was stuck again, I went down for the second time on my knees this time making the mistake to get my hand to close to the exhaust directly in front of the back wheel and burned a blister on the back of my hand the size of two 50cent pieces next to each other. After I managed to get through I stopped to finished of most of the lukewarm water left in my 500ml plastic Coke container by dousing my burning hand and drinking the rest. At this time I was sweating like a pig under the scorching midday Karoo sun. The road seems to be nothing more than a small track typically used by farmers to reach the camps on their farm. I was getting I bit nervous at the prospects of having to negotiate the dry river bed again and continued cautiously avoiding some of the large loose stones scattered on the road surface as well as some deep ruts.
Within a few kilometres beating it up this fading track I arrived at a closed gate, a sign indicated that you are now entering the district of Calvinia and the most amazing thing; from just on the other side of the gate is a beautiful graded gravel road disappearing over the ridge. The road was double the width and where I was barely able to travel at 40km/h in discomfort I could go 110km/h and it was as smooth as a babys bottom.
It was not long after when I reached the R355 and turned south to Ceres. I was still not sure that I could make it with the 26 litre of petrol I carried with me so I kept the speed at around 110km/h. At the same time it was getting late and I had to get back to Cape Town before sunset.
I arrived at Ceres after travelling about 260km from Wuppertal. The |GS would normally give me 300km before going to reserve.
As I roared down the N1 toward Table mountain dusk started settling in. Today I cant believe that I would travel all that in one day.
In August this year, myself and 4 other riders from the Classic G/S Riders set of to repeat the exact same route I did almost 10 years back as adventure riding was only just starting to find its feet in a greater commercial market.
Only a short distance along the first stretch of dirt into the mountains Howards G/S came to a sudden halt. Something went wrong in the gearbox and he was going nowhere with his bike.
After leaving Howard at the Mount Ceder Lodge, where the owner helped us with the recovery of the bike in his Land Cruiser towing n small trailer, we carried on to our overnight place at die ou werf.
The next day we travelled past Eselbank on our way to Wuppertal where Clive and myself each bought a patch of Cederberg earth. I only damaged my ego and Clive lost a screen on his R100GS PD.
Leaving Wuppertal after breakfast that we had at 12, some of the riders were a bit concerned about the time and just wanted to get home along the safest route.
Mike and myself decided after fixing a flat on my bike that we would stick to the original plan and ride through the Bidou valley.
About 10km down the valley we met with a young German guy that told us that after heavy winter rains the river is to full to cross, what a disappointment! We could do nothing but turn around and head for the dreaded N7 where I got stuck with the same flat tire before reaching Piketberg and had to get my bike recovered.
Some of the following pictures are from the August trip; the riders were Howard, Clive, Fanie, Mike and myself Altus
At the time I was not sure exactly where I was going to end up but I knew I wanted to get into the Cederberg, as this was one area that I have never visited before.
My route took me through Ceres and then north over Prins Alfreds Hamlet to Op die Berg where I turned left in an eastern direction. Shortly after, the road would turn to gravel as it also veered of into a northern direction disappearing into the spectacular Cederberg valleys.
The first section of gravel road was very well used but in real good shape and I was making good time till I arrived at someone standing next to his upturned pickup beside the road.
The accident seemed to very fresh so I pulled over to check if the driver was okay.
It turned out to be one of the local farmers living only a short distance down the way.
When asking him if he needed help he informed me that he had the accident in the morning already and he was waiting for someone on a tractor to arrive to tow the badly damaged pickup back to the farm. He explained that being so used to travelling on this road and knowing it like the back of his hand that he was caught by surprise by some loose gravel on the bend causing the car to skid of the side of the road where the pickup hit a large stone on the side of the road and flipped over the car.
Interested in the bike, the farmer started chatting and I explained to him where I was going and that I would like to drive to Wuppertal. He then proceeded to tell me about a small road, not normally shown on regular road maps, which will take me straight over the mountain past Eselbank, entering Wuppertal from the south. In fact the turnoff was only a short distance in the direction I was travelling and is far shorter than the alternative route taking me past Algeria and Clanwilliam driving south into Wuppertal that according to regular road maps end up into a dead-end.
This road turned out to make a real impression on me, some of the things I recall was the endless washboard, I mean to the point where me head was itching endlessly from the shaking of the badly fitting cheap Lafe helmet I was wearing at time and the taxi that roared past me at break neck speed on a very narrow strip of the road while battling to keep the bike upright in the sandy patch just before reaching Eselbank, and who can ever forget the incredible rugged mountain formations of the area. When you see it for the first time you will also know why it is called the Red Cederberg.
Down in Wuppertal I needed to make a decision whether to return to Cape Town via Clanwilliam and the N7, real boring, or if I should follow a route through the Bidou valley that will eventually meet up with the R355 between Calvinia and Ceres, this road being known as the longest stretch of road between two towns in South Africa, over 300 kilometres of mostly gravel surfaced road.
My decision would mostly rest on whether I would be able to get petrol in this sleepy little village on a Sunday.
After asking one of the locals about petrol they pointed to a house where I can go and ask as the pump is closed at the moment but the owner might open up.
A few moments later I was driving my bike up to the church with the petrol pump right next to it. The owners 14 year, or so old grandson was send out to help me fill up and instead of filling the bike myself I let him do it, only to see moments later how he accidentally overfilled the tank with petrol just overflowing everywhere dripping down on the hot cylinder heads. For moments I had visions of another similar GS that went up in flames in Namibia shortly after it was filled with petrol and some of it overflowed and set the bike on fire.
Nothing happened though and with a full tank of fuel I was set to tackle the Bidou valley.
One thing I learned from this trip was that you should never set out with half of a 500ml Coke. Fortunately I filled the empty 500ml container in Wuppertal with water but even 500ml of water was inappropriately insufficient. If I got stranded or even had a flat in the scorching desert heat I would become dehydrated in such a short space of time.
It turned out that that was exactly what happened. Reaching the Doring river at the end of the Bidou valley I was stunned to find a dry river bed about seventy five yards across scattered with big black boulders filled in between with soft white river sand deep soft river sand. It was obvious that only 4x4s is ever going across this river and I was not sure if I was going to make this on my own. The thought of doubling back the thirty-five or so kilometres down the Bidou valley and the horrible stretch of N7 plus the fact that I was already halfway down the steep, sandy, narrow river bank leaving very little possibility of turning around a 200kg behemoth of a BMW made me waste only a few seconds pondering the possibilities before dropping the clutch and going for it. At the time a still did not appreciate the value in standing on the pegs in this kind of situation and I was only about ten or fifteen yards into the river bed before I got stuck, the back wheel just spinning effortlessly in the soft sand. The bike was sitting to low in the sand to use either the centre or side stand and with no one nearby to help I went down on my knee holding the left grip in one hand and starting to dig with the right. It turned out that it was only a stone in the sand. Moments later I was moving again until I reached the opposite bank where two really thick banks of sand was awaiting me. As I hit the first one I was stuck again, I went down for the second time on my knees this time making the mistake to get my hand to close to the exhaust directly in front of the back wheel and burned a blister on the back of my hand the size of two 50cent pieces next to each other. After I managed to get through I stopped to finished of most of the lukewarm water left in my 500ml plastic Coke container by dousing my burning hand and drinking the rest. At this time I was sweating like a pig under the scorching midday Karoo sun. The road seems to be nothing more than a small track typically used by farmers to reach the camps on their farm. I was getting I bit nervous at the prospects of having to negotiate the dry river bed again and continued cautiously avoiding some of the large loose stones scattered on the road surface as well as some deep ruts.
Within a few kilometres beating it up this fading track I arrived at a closed gate, a sign indicated that you are now entering the district of Calvinia and the most amazing thing; from just on the other side of the gate is a beautiful graded gravel road disappearing over the ridge. The road was double the width and where I was barely able to travel at 40km/h in discomfort I could go 110km/h and it was as smooth as a babys bottom.
It was not long after when I reached the R355 and turned south to Ceres. I was still not sure that I could make it with the 26 litre of petrol I carried with me so I kept the speed at around 110km/h. At the same time it was getting late and I had to get back to Cape Town before sunset.
I arrived at Ceres after travelling about 260km from Wuppertal. The |GS would normally give me 300km before going to reserve.
As I roared down the N1 toward Table mountain dusk started settling in. Today I cant believe that I would travel all that in one day.
In August this year, myself and 4 other riders from the Classic G/S Riders set of to repeat the exact same route I did almost 10 years back as adventure riding was only just starting to find its feet in a greater commercial market.
Only a short distance along the first stretch of dirt into the mountains Howards G/S came to a sudden halt. Something went wrong in the gearbox and he was going nowhere with his bike.
After leaving Howard at the Mount Ceder Lodge, where the owner helped us with the recovery of the bike in his Land Cruiser towing n small trailer, we carried on to our overnight place at die ou werf.
The next day we travelled past Eselbank on our way to Wuppertal where Clive and myself each bought a patch of Cederberg earth. I only damaged my ego and Clive lost a screen on his R100GS PD.
Leaving Wuppertal after breakfast that we had at 12, some of the riders were a bit concerned about the time and just wanted to get home along the safest route.
Mike and myself decided after fixing a flat on my bike that we would stick to the original plan and ride through the Bidou valley.
About 10km down the valley we met with a young German guy that told us that after heavy winter rains the river is to full to cross, what a disappointment! We could do nothing but turn around and head for the dreaded N7 where I got stuck with the same flat tire before reaching Piketberg and had to get my bike recovered.
Some of the following pictures are from the August trip; the riders were Howard, Clive, Fanie, Mike and myself Altus
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Dustdevil
Race Dog
The Trip down into Wuppertal from the south is just absolutely spectacular!!
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Dustdevil
Race Dog
After doing a mayor overhaul of Howardâ??s gearbox we decided to do the trip again seen that he couldn't complete it with the rest of the group the previous time and I would still like to get through the Doring river in the Bidou valley.
We set of on Sunday morning on the 22nd of November at 8am sharp and tackled the same old route via Wellington, Bainskloof pass, Ceres and â??Op die Bergâ?.
The last secure petrol stop was in Prins Alfred although I was told we could get petrol at â??Dwars Rivierâ?.
The pump in Wuppertal is still broken and this meant that we would have to carry extra fuel if we want to get through the Doring River and still make it back to Ceres.
We made no reservation for accommodation and decided to will see where we will end up on Sunday afternoon. We had a few options in mind though and being the end of the weekend we were sure to find available lodging.
We set of on Sunday morning on the 22nd of November at 8am sharp and tackled the same old route via Wellington, Bainskloof pass, Ceres and â??Op die Bergâ?.
The last secure petrol stop was in Prins Alfred although I was told we could get petrol at â??Dwars Rivierâ?.
The pump in Wuppertal is still broken and this meant that we would have to carry extra fuel if we want to get through the Doring River and still make it back to Ceres.
We made no reservation for accommodation and decided to will see where we will end up on Sunday afternoon. We had a few options in mind though and being the end of the weekend we were sure to find available lodging.
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Dustdevil
Race Dog
We stopped at the Oasis for a drink (non alcoholic of course) and continued to Dwars Rivier to fill up with petrol and to check if we could get accommodation at Kearbosch fontien but with the intention of returning to the Oasis for dinner later.
I arrived at Dwars Rivier and waited for Howard but he is not showing up. He was still behind me about 3km back so I suddenly started fearing the worse as the road surface was really loose with marble size rounded stones and with lots of sneaky bends where it is easy to make a mistake. I rushed back to almost exactly where I saw him last, he was busy fixing a flat.
Johan, the owner of Keurbosch was not in so we returned to the Oasis for an overnight stop. Although there always seem to be something happening at this joint with travelers stopping for a beer or two...or six!, I found the facilities to be somewhat in the need of a good cleanup. For the price we paid I must add though that it makes it hard to complain.
The next morning we headed in the direction of Wupperthal. This is the most scenic part so we stopped often to shoot some images.
I arrived at Dwars Rivier and waited for Howard but he is not showing up. He was still behind me about 3km back so I suddenly started fearing the worse as the road surface was really loose with marble size rounded stones and with lots of sneaky bends where it is easy to make a mistake. I rushed back to almost exactly where I saw him last, he was busy fixing a flat.
Johan, the owner of Keurbosch was not in so we returned to the Oasis for an overnight stop. Although there always seem to be something happening at this joint with travelers stopping for a beer or two...or six!, I found the facilities to be somewhat in the need of a good cleanup. For the price we paid I must add though that it makes it hard to complain.
The next morning we headed in the direction of Wupperthal. This is the most scenic part so we stopped often to shoot some images.
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Dustdevil
Race Dog
We stopped in Wupperthal for breakfast and afterward we headed out north in the direction of Clanwilliam. 5km Out of town I noticed a rough track going up on a steep hill side.
I stopped and waited for Howard to check the Slingsby map we got from the owner of the Oasis the night before. I could clearly remember seeing this track on the map and knowing it should meet up with the a road from the Bidou valley going to Cobus se gat.
Howard agreed that it could be an interisting detour so we headed up this steep incline that immediately started getting a little rough.
If you want to know more about what happened on top of the mountain read my thread "A dated Slingsby Map, two GS's and some bad choices"
When we finally arrived in the Bidou valley we stopped at one of the farm steads to see if they know if there is access over the Doring rivier, a farmers wife offered to call the farmer next to the river that informed her that the river is still far to high to cross with any type of vehicle.
We were forced to head of to Clanwilliam and ended up tearing down the N7 back to Cape Town.
I stopped and waited for Howard to check the Slingsby map we got from the owner of the Oasis the night before. I could clearly remember seeing this track on the map and knowing it should meet up with the a road from the Bidou valley going to Cobus se gat.
Howard agreed that it could be an interisting detour so we headed up this steep incline that immediately started getting a little rough.
If you want to know more about what happened on top of the mountain read my thread "A dated Slingsby Map, two GS's and some bad choices"
When we finally arrived in the Bidou valley we stopped at one of the farm steads to see if they know if there is access over the Doring rivier, a farmers wife offered to call the farmer next to the river that informed her that the river is still far to high to cross with any type of vehicle.
We were forced to head of to Clanwilliam and ended up tearing down the N7 back to Cape Town.
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Malibu
Bachelor Dog
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2007
- Messages
- 11,170
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- Bike
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:ricky:
Do I love your RR's and pics... :thumleft:
Do I love your RR's and pics... :thumleft:
GO GIRL
Race Dog
This area never fails to impress ...its just awsome out there, no matter what time of the year.....
Mark Hardy
Grey Hound
Oh the ceberg is calling me
That was a damn fine read with some stunning photos, thanks. :thumleft:
That was a damn fine read with some stunning photos, thanks. :thumleft:
Very nice :thumleft:
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