Day 26
Next morning after breakfast I went without much enthusiasm back to the bike to try to get the bloody clutch working. By now I've disassembled and assembled it back many many times and was sceptical that I'll be able to crack it. So I looked for a held and eventually tracked down the mechanic at the lodge, an elderly dignified gentleman. He admitted to have zero experience with the bikes, but kindly agreed to have a look once done with one of the safari cars he was working on.
When he came he asked me to take the clutch apart to get an idea how it works. I wasn't too keen as it seemed to me clear that the problem is somewhere between the pin coming out of the clutch plate and the connecting clutch lever on the clutch cover (and my hands were properly tired from all the spannering), but my ideas haven't got me far so resignedly I took the clutch apart explaining my understanding of how it works. He looked carefully but couldn't see anything out of order until I put the clutch cover back on and set-up the position of the clutch lever.
Straight away he seen that the lever is way too forwards and needs to be pushed further back - in other words what Conrad was hinting at all along. Now - for the mechanically minded among you - where I went wrong was that I assumed that the full operational travel of the lever is the one allowed by the spring on the lever. I assumed that clutch was fully open when I pushed the clutch lever with my fingers all the way to the front (as if pulled by cable) - with the spring installed. That turned out to be only clutch lever free play, and the point where I couldn't push anymore (and I assumed was the end of operational travel) was actually the point where the clutch would only start to disengage. So it turned out that indeed I was the ***** in the system all along. I like to think that I have a knack in root causing problems in complex systems - which is what I do to an extent for living, yet this utterly logical solution eluded me completely for two days (despite repeated suggestions from Conrad) and for what I knew stopped me getting home on my original attempt to leave Maun. On the positive side, I had three more days of vacation and will go Makgadikgadi.
I was really relieved and thanked the mechanic profusely and also monetarily. Apart from solving the mystery of loose clutch cable, he also cut a new gasket for me, as the new one I have brought from Joburg was destroyed in my many assembly/disassembly attempts.
With the clutch sorted, the last thing was to put the new engine oil in - which is much easier said than done on the bloody Tenere. The oil in Tenerre is held in the frame and the filler opening is on the side of the head stock on the frame (I think that is what it is called) under the upper triple clamps and behind the crush covers. You need some kind of long and thin funnel to be able to get the oil in - which I didn't have. I have made one from a plastic bottle, but the opening was too big and the whole funnel too unwieldy so I ended up spilling lots of the oil across the front of the bike and ground.
By the time I was done it was a lunchtime again, so I went hurriedly for a quick cheeseburger, packed up, settled the bill and set-off at about 2 pm. The ambitious plan was to make it to the Kubu island of overnight, the more realistic was sleepover in Gweta and hitting the plains early next day - especially when I found out that Gweta is 200 km away and not 100 km as I thought (and that after doing this route at least five times before).
As soon as I hit the tar I run into another problem - the bikes performance was very sluggish. Luckily this one took only about 10 seconds to resolve, when
I realises that I need to actually open the throttle for the bike to go. The econo-clutch run of the past week has created and imaginary block in my brain at about half the throttle (I would swear that there was a physical stop there) and conditioned the brain to feather the throttle like it was a button that can start a nuclear war.
After refuel I hit the Nata road and after uneventful ride arrived about two hours later to Gweta. The only excitement was a smoke break at the official rest stop about 40 km before Gweta, when a group of local guys in car passed me first, just to made a U turn and came back to tell me not to hang around too long as there are lions in the area. I was quite non-chalant about it, but the fact that they actually turned back to warn me added a bit of credibility to the story, so I had only one cigarette instead of usual two and continued to Gweta.
I have also met in the opposite direction quite incongruous group of about 8 - 10 bikes heading towards Maun. There was old R100GS leading the way, followed by 1190R and if I remember correctly a mix of different of touring bikes - probably with some GS thrown in. From the constituency of the group I assumed they were stuck to tar and didn't come through Makgadikgadi.
Once in Gweta, I refuelled and decided to stay the night - it was a late afternoon now - a bit late to hit the plains and make it all the way to Kubu, and I was tired from the frantic spannering yesterday and today. I never slept in Gweta but have remembered reading somewhere somebody waxing lyrical about this Planet Baobab place about 5 km further on in the Nata direction, marked by this very tasty oversized aardwark statue most people stop for a picture. The name sounded a bit like some kind of Disneyland tourist trap, but I didn't know any other place so went to give it a try.
I found the turn-off no problem (it's difficult to miss with 3 meters tall aardvark in attendance) and headed on the dirt road to the lodge about 300 meters in the bush, when at one turn about 200 meters away out of a blue my clutch cable went slack and I had no clutch once again.
WTF!!! This wasn't funny anymore. Pissed off I kicked in neutral revved up the engine, kicked in first and got going again without stalling for another 100 meters, where I had to repeat the process at the closed gate to the Baobab planet. I was surprised to see heavy duty electric fence circumventing the whole property - this indicated big 5 presence in the area, which I wasn't aware of before.
At the cutie-pie reception I checked into one of their chalets and grudginly went back to have a look at the clutch agains. Luckily I noticed the root cause before disassembling the clutch - during my last hasty assembly overjoyed that the clutch works I tightened the adjustment screws on the clutch cable only with hand, the engine vibrations loosened them and the cable jumped out of the adjuster effectively loosing any tension. A quick fix took about a minute and I was free again to explore the new Planet I have arrived at.
Planet Baobab turned out to be this upmarket looking place. The accommodation in the chalets or tents, the bar and big pool surrounded by many baobabs is fine, well run and maintained. But to this - admittedly aesthetically challenged - individual it all felt a bit too cute, with few too many spade ornaments on the chalets, and baobab lightened just so in the night. In other word a bit kitsch - like some kind of european idealistic idea of an African traditional village.
But hey, enough snobbish bitching - the chalet was clean, the bar was well stocked, food good and at the end of the day all that mattered was that the clutch was working and ready to hit Makgadikgadi. I spent rest of the day hanging in the bar and sorting few little wiggles in the preparation for the early start next morning.
Reception:
My chalet:
The rest of the Planet:
Route for the day:
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