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Thanks Mark - and thank you for always unselfishly helping out your fellow riders with your spares. Every riding group needs a Mark amongst them.
Collective RR - Namibia Tour June 2021 with Specialized Adventures
- Thread starter BuRP
- Start date
You might be referring to a different Mark.Hardy de Kock said:
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8 min Mark said:
Sorry boet - Yes, I thought you were Mark Johnston.
Also a Husky rider, and all round nice guy.
Thank you for the words though
Day 3, second riding day.
Spitzkoppe to Palmwag
We woke up from the first night in the open - at around 7 when it is still dark.
Being relatively close to Windhoek the temperature at night was 'cool', not freezing or so, just perfect for one's sleep if tucked in a decent sleeping bag. Mine was new, bought for the occasion and after this first night judged 'lekker' by me, of course helped considerably by the proper stretcher and the mattress.
Guys started milling around the coffee pots, the team was preparing breakfast, and others were busy packing their stuff up again, this all the first time of what was going to be a daily routine: dress up in riding gear, pack your kitbag & stretcher, bring this lot to the truck and later help loading it into the cavernous Unimog box. Oh, add the comfy chairs to this.
During breakfast the various snoring sources were discussed and plans were made to avoid these in future. Others planned to 'team up' to either avoid or reinforce the baritone battalion, in other words slaapmaatjie teams were forming
Hardy briefed us on the day's riding ahead, which was a large distance North over normal Namibian roads - unpaved, well maintained/graded, largely empty but for the odd traveller which could well be a French polony in a rented campervan scanning the horizon for game hence driving on the right (for the dyslexics, this is the wrong side!) hand side right on the other side of a blind rise, so Stay Well Left! was his advice.
We would probably see some game along the way, and we were urged to take our time, look around to take in the scenery and stop to take photos. Ride at your own speed and enjoy, and if **** happens just wait for the backup riders if not the vehicles which would follow.
I was the first one to leave the campsite per bike, for two reasons: I wanted to look for my sidestand bits at the showers which I had lost the previous night, and claim my turn on the throne to meditate a bit.
To my genuine surprise I found the dual springs plus the funny U-shaped lever all still attached lying in plain sight, so my smile was wiiiiiiiiide! ;D
Could not find the little bush & screw but screw them, I can make a reassembly plan tonight, great! :thumleft:
When I went to the throne some Frenchies had parked their SUV there, so obviously I had to wait a bit, 2 toilets only. I did knock a few times on the closed door, then at last hollered "HEY, SOMEONE IN THERE?" to zero avail, then asked the lady if her husband was in it.
She did not understand a word I said hence had ignored me thus far, but when I asked her in person she made clear that no, one had to push the door open as it was sticking a bit..... duh, clever **** me innit?
Anyway, did my thing and followed the trucks as the stonelast one.
Dust.
Dustroads are sometimes call dirtroads, for a reason.
If you're riding directly downwind behind a vehicle for a long time one is tempted to adhere to a large dustgap. With a convoy like ours this means it will be stretched out over quite some distance.
Luckily the fast bunch had zoomed off into the distance plus the wind's direction was 'across' the roads, so only a small gap was required.
Important to mention this here: dirt- & adventure bikes, and only a few had spare clean oiled filters stashed away hence others had to clean them at times - if possible that is, some paper filters were present also.
On this, Hardy told me that the vehicles' filters were regularly (daily even?) inspected & cleaned also.... the git, with maintenance he's as serious as me
We were to refuel at petrol stations in Uis along the way, and again at Palmwag only a few hundred meters away from our camp for the night.
Now, 'petrol station' took on a bitofa new meaning on this trip.
This is mos a Shop, airconditioned and security-camera infested of course, with muffins, a Nescafe automated dispenser, fresh cold dairy products and a plethora of cold beverages if not beer, plus a clean paved (and drained to adhere to environmental regulations) courtyard manned by uniformed attendants, right?
Eh, well, yes it is, in Gauteng, the Cape, Durban, hell, even Bloemfontein has these.... Pofadder anyone?
Anyway, in Uis this was still the case, sortof, minus a lot (read: most!) of what's listed above.
But, BUT, the shop(!) was there, paved courtyard too, geez, it was even on a short tarred road popping up out of nowhere.... gash, what will be next, a robot in town maybe? :
So, a lot bought some pleasers like sweets, a steri stumpie or a cold sugary cooldink, and this communal stop, being the first of many, became an impromptu socializing event - "How's your steed, what's your name again (yeah, that's moi ), did you see that T-rex too" et cetera, all jovial and good :thumleft:
A few had ridden a dune (or minedump, dunno actually, please add your bits here?) on the outskirts of the 'town' (a very modest settlement), and this bit indicated the fast & daring of the group.
Rickus somewhere had a rear's puncture to repair on his 950, and a few chaps stopped to help him - with teasing comments mostly of course, but also a helping hand if needed. The man's a handy self-sufficient dude and came prepared, gloves even - and don't laugh, they were needed!
The tube coming out of it I've never seen: a vulcanized wors, hot as hell, if it had been humid (lol) it would have been steaming!
Anyway, a new tube was slapped in quickly, and we were on our way again :ricky:
Lunch was served somewhere roadside-ish - what better than a dry sandy riverbed with some trees for shade?
So we did, and 'lunch' took on a new meaning here.
Look, we've been fed VERY well during this trip, I cannot mention this enough, but this took the lunch-crown I think: freshly baked waffle-like saarmies (forgot the name, verskoon asb - Jaffels?) with lekker mince and cheese and nog goeters, yummy! But, the girls had pre-made this the previous night, the first night out at Spitzkoppe - I tip my hat gain Ladies, verskoon my taal maar dit was befok!
So I had 3 of them... yes, more than most I think, but magtig, lekker bly lekker, and the call for "Someone wants a last leftover one?" I just could not ignore :drif:
Then off we went, to Palmwag, our camp with another petrol station, some 240km's from Uis (where we had filled up).
I joined this trip convinced I had a 15L tank, so no probs, I could play along the way.
So I did too, but lo and behold, some 7km before reaching that 'Home' marker on the GPS (we all had one except Johannes) I came to a dead stop, this after I had tipped my bike two times to get the right-hand fuel into the left side's half... the tank was as dry as the environment I was in!
But fear not, Hardy's coming so I waved all helpful bikers past, not one being an exception to roar past without indicating their readyness to stop & help - reassuring!
From Hardy's cruiser some petrol was poured in amidst comments like 'fuggit your bike suips' and 'did you actually fill it up in Uis?' to 'you must have been up that dune after filling up!' (I had not), and quite frankly this surprisingly high comsumption was also bothering me - I had really prepared the bike well prior, and it was running like a dream, pipe the proper colour too.
Anyway, around the next corner I found the petrol station with the Palmwag overnight stop adjacent.
I hope someone will post a few pics of this petrol station for it lacks any amenities any Gautengelenger is used to.... but yes, they had petrol!
Funny my tank only took just around 10 liters, but yeah, when filling up from Hardy's bowser a bit of a generous splash was used so I could not reliably calculate. I remember some uneducated guess was 15.8 km/L for my trip - for a well-running 500? Something's wrong somewhere.... ???
Anyway, we checked into Palmwag's camping site, a lekker one with a pool and bar with covered stoep, plus a resident elephant even if you're lucky (we weren't). Wifi also, so mature men, some of them grandpa's even, were seen protectively hunched over their portable screens giggling like teenage schoolgirls :imaposer:
Hearsy has it that Kobus, suavely clothed in this jockstrap, plunged into the pool scaring some foreign birds away, tsk tsk tsk >
Again, please help with your version of this, backed up by some pics I hope?
Yes, I'm not only useless with names, I'm no photographer either, plus I was fixing my bike then so didn't see those birds...
I scored a small screw from Hardy's spares plus some red Locktite from Johan to 'glue' my sidestand assembly back in - purrrrfect again, and it will hold :thumleft:
Oh, before I forget, my clutch lost its functionality when leaving the petrol station, zero lever pressure!
Out of the blue for me, I had changed all liquids beforehand - and the reservoir proved empty. ****.
Filling (thank you Hardy for your cruiser's stock!) & bleeding brought it back to life but this meant that (no visible leaks on the bike!) I had some brake fluid mixed in the engine oil - I know, a little only, but that's me, it bugs me!
Plus, way more importantly, any leak has a cause, and this bothered me most.... :-\
I put my bed up under the same shade awning next the bed Rob was occupying, with an adamant almost threatening Rob trying to persuade me away because he is the champion snorer, and I will not sleep an iota!
Ya right.... I told him I could care less, may even outdo him according to some reports I've had 8)
Anyway, a surprisingly cool night followed, and Rob forgot to snore - which I told him the next day :laughing4:
Lessons learned, and I would put on riding socks for most of the following nights to keep my feet more comfy :thumleft:
Spitzkoppe to Palmwag
We woke up from the first night in the open - at around 7 when it is still dark.
Being relatively close to Windhoek the temperature at night was 'cool', not freezing or so, just perfect for one's sleep if tucked in a decent sleeping bag. Mine was new, bought for the occasion and after this first night judged 'lekker' by me, of course helped considerably by the proper stretcher and the mattress.
Guys started milling around the coffee pots, the team was preparing breakfast, and others were busy packing their stuff up again, this all the first time of what was going to be a daily routine: dress up in riding gear, pack your kitbag & stretcher, bring this lot to the truck and later help loading it into the cavernous Unimog box. Oh, add the comfy chairs to this.
During breakfast the various snoring sources were discussed and plans were made to avoid these in future. Others planned to 'team up' to either avoid or reinforce the baritone battalion, in other words slaapmaatjie teams were forming
Hardy briefed us on the day's riding ahead, which was a large distance North over normal Namibian roads - unpaved, well maintained/graded, largely empty but for the odd traveller which could well be a French polony in a rented campervan scanning the horizon for game hence driving on the right (for the dyslexics, this is the wrong side!) hand side right on the other side of a blind rise, so Stay Well Left! was his advice.
We would probably see some game along the way, and we were urged to take our time, look around to take in the scenery and stop to take photos. Ride at your own speed and enjoy, and if **** happens just wait for the backup riders if not the vehicles which would follow.
I was the first one to leave the campsite per bike, for two reasons: I wanted to look for my sidestand bits at the showers which I had lost the previous night, and claim my turn on the throne to meditate a bit.
To my genuine surprise I found the dual springs plus the funny U-shaped lever all still attached lying in plain sight, so my smile was wiiiiiiiiide! ;D
Could not find the little bush & screw but screw them, I can make a reassembly plan tonight, great! :thumleft:
When I went to the throne some Frenchies had parked their SUV there, so obviously I had to wait a bit, 2 toilets only. I did knock a few times on the closed door, then at last hollered "HEY, SOMEONE IN THERE?" to zero avail, then asked the lady if her husband was in it.
She did not understand a word I said hence had ignored me thus far, but when I asked her in person she made clear that no, one had to push the door open as it was sticking a bit..... duh, clever **** me innit?
Anyway, did my thing and followed the trucks as the stonelast one.
Dust.
Dustroads are sometimes call dirtroads, for a reason.
If you're riding directly downwind behind a vehicle for a long time one is tempted to adhere to a large dustgap. With a convoy like ours this means it will be stretched out over quite some distance.
Luckily the fast bunch had zoomed off into the distance plus the wind's direction was 'across' the roads, so only a small gap was required.
Important to mention this here: dirt- & adventure bikes, and only a few had spare clean oiled filters stashed away hence others had to clean them at times - if possible that is, some paper filters were present also.
On this, Hardy told me that the vehicles' filters were regularly (daily even?) inspected & cleaned also.... the git, with maintenance he's as serious as me
We were to refuel at petrol stations in Uis along the way, and again at Palmwag only a few hundred meters away from our camp for the night.
Now, 'petrol station' took on a bitofa new meaning on this trip.
This is mos a Shop, airconditioned and security-camera infested of course, with muffins, a Nescafe automated dispenser, fresh cold dairy products and a plethora of cold beverages if not beer, plus a clean paved (and drained to adhere to environmental regulations) courtyard manned by uniformed attendants, right?
Eh, well, yes it is, in Gauteng, the Cape, Durban, hell, even Bloemfontein has these.... Pofadder anyone?
Anyway, in Uis this was still the case, sortof, minus a lot (read: most!) of what's listed above.
But, BUT, the shop(!) was there, paved courtyard too, geez, it was even on a short tarred road popping up out of nowhere.... gash, what will be next, a robot in town maybe? :
So, a lot bought some pleasers like sweets, a steri stumpie or a cold sugary cooldink, and this communal stop, being the first of many, became an impromptu socializing event - "How's your steed, what's your name again (yeah, that's moi
), did you see that T-rex too" et cetera, all jovial and good :thumleft:A few had ridden a dune (or minedump, dunno actually, please add your bits here?) on the outskirts of the 'town' (a very modest settlement), and this bit indicated the fast & daring of the group.
Rickus somewhere had a rear's puncture to repair on his 950, and a few chaps stopped to help him - with teasing comments mostly of course, but also a helping hand if needed. The man's a handy self-sufficient dude and came prepared, gloves even - and don't laugh, they were needed!
The tube coming out of it I've never seen: a vulcanized wors, hot as hell, if it had been humid (lol) it would have been steaming!
Anyway, a new tube was slapped in quickly, and we were on our way again :ricky:
Lunch was served somewhere roadside-ish - what better than a dry sandy riverbed with some trees for shade?
So we did, and 'lunch' took on a new meaning here.
Look, we've been fed VERY well during this trip, I cannot mention this enough, but this took the lunch-crown I think: freshly baked waffle-like saarmies (forgot the name, verskoon asb - Jaffels?) with lekker mince and cheese and nog goeters, yummy! But, the girls had pre-made this the previous night, the first night out at Spitzkoppe - I tip my hat gain Ladies, verskoon my taal maar dit was befok!
So I had 3 of them... yes, more than most I think, but magtig, lekker bly lekker, and the call for "Someone wants a last leftover one?" I just could not ignore :drif:
Then off we went, to Palmwag, our camp with another petrol station, some 240km's from Uis (where we had filled up).
I joined this trip convinced I had a 15L tank, so no probs, I could play along the way.
So I did too, but lo and behold, some 7km before reaching that 'Home' marker on the GPS (we all had one except Johannes) I came to a dead stop, this after I had tipped my bike two times to get the right-hand fuel into the left side's half... the tank was as dry as the environment I was in!
But fear not, Hardy's coming so I waved all helpful bikers past, not one being an exception to roar past without indicating their readyness to stop & help - reassuring!
From Hardy's cruiser some petrol was poured in amidst comments like 'fuggit your bike suips' and 'did you actually fill it up in Uis?' to 'you must have been up that dune after filling up!' (I had not), and quite frankly this surprisingly high comsumption was also bothering me - I had really prepared the bike well prior, and it was running like a dream, pipe the proper colour too.
Anyway, around the next corner I found the petrol station with the Palmwag overnight stop adjacent.
I hope someone will post a few pics of this petrol station for it lacks any amenities any Gautengelenger is used to.... but yes, they had petrol!
Funny my tank only took just around 10 liters, but yeah, when filling up from Hardy's bowser a bit of a generous splash was used so I could not reliably calculate. I remember some uneducated guess was 15.8 km/L for my trip - for a well-running 500? Something's wrong somewhere.... ???
Anyway, we checked into Palmwag's camping site, a lekker one with a pool and bar with covered stoep, plus a resident elephant even if you're lucky (we weren't). Wifi also, so mature men, some of them grandpa's even, were seen protectively hunched over their portable screens giggling like teenage schoolgirls :imaposer:
Hearsy has it that Kobus, suavely clothed in this jockstrap, plunged into the pool scaring some foreign birds away, tsk tsk tsk >
Again, please help with your version of this, backed up by some pics I hope?
Yes, I'm not only useless with names, I'm no photographer either, plus I was fixing my bike then so didn't see those birds...
I scored a small screw from Hardy's spares plus some red Locktite from Johan to 'glue' my sidestand assembly back in - purrrrfect again, and it will hold :thumleft:
Oh, before I forget, my clutch lost its functionality when leaving the petrol station, zero lever pressure!
Out of the blue for me, I had changed all liquids beforehand - and the reservoir proved empty. ****.
Filling (thank you Hardy for your cruiser's stock!) & bleeding brought it back to life but this meant that (no visible leaks on the bike!) I had some brake fluid mixed in the engine oil - I know, a little only, but that's me, it bugs me!
Plus, way more importantly, any leak has a cause, and this bothered me most.... :-\
I put my bed up under the same shade awning next the bed Rob was occupying, with an adamant almost threatening Rob trying to persuade me away because he is the champion snorer, and I will not sleep an iota!
Ya right.... I told him I could care less, may even outdo him according to some reports I've had 8)
Anyway, a surprisingly cool night followed, and Rob forgot to snore - which I told him the next day :laughing4:
Lessons learned, and I would put on riding socks for most of the following nights to keep my feet more comfy :thumleft:
Attachments
Days & Names of overnight camps......
I have a memory like a sieve for this kind of thing, and here my name-dyslexia refers, I'm simply lousy with it.
Will someone please list the campsites of the days to come - please?
Otherwise I'll either be vague if not anonymous about these or plainly wrong, neither helping anyone.
And, if you've got the (total) riding distances for the days also then this would come in handy too.
(Oh, NO, Hardy won't have these, the man has been there so often he drives without GPS )
Much obliged in advance!
I have a memory like a sieve for this kind of thing, and here my name-dyslexia refers, I'm simply lousy with it.
Will someone please list the campsites of the days to come - please?
Otherwise I'll either be vague if not anonymous about these or plainly wrong, neither helping anyone.
And, if you've got the (total) riding distances for the days also then this would come in handy too.
(Oh, NO, Hardy won't have these, the man has been there so often he drives without GPS
)Much obliged in advance!
To those involved, I think at Palmwag Johan's 690 clutch slave cylinder was fixed with Mark's considerable spare's supply.
Please report on this, and if you have pics please add these too :thumleft: :thumleft:
Please report on this, and if you have pics please add these too :thumleft: :thumleft:
- Joined
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- Location
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BuRP said:Days & Names of overnight camps......
I have a memory like a sieve for this kind of thing, and here my name-dyslexia refers, I'm simply lousy with it.
Will someone please list the campsites of the days to come - please?
Otherwise I'll either be vague if not anonymous about these or plainly wrong, neither helping anyone.
And, if you've got the (total) riding distances for the days also then this would come in handy too.
(Oh, NO, Hardy won't have these, the man has been there so often he drives without GPS
Much obliged in advance!
Arebusch Travel Lodge - Windhoek
Spitzkoppe
Palmwag
Mopane Camp
Epupa Falls
Van Zyl's Camp
Marble Camp
Puros
Puros
Palmwag
Aba Huab Campsite
Brandberg White Lady
Arebusch Travel Lodge - Windhoek
Sorry Bart - No idea of the distances (Definitely not long enough for someone with your energy reserves though) :thumleft:
You sounding like CEO now Bart[emoji2957]need to get you a little black book to write things down, especially now that you have old age memiry[emoji23][emoji23][emoji48]
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Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
- Joined
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- 11,909
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- 5,391
- Location
- Cape Town, deep in the lentils
- Bike
- KTM 990 Adventure
As this is 1st world tripping in a 3rd world place, the Unimog has the most important accessory – multiple USB charging ports.
In Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, a full battery is right at the most fundamental of needs
Splash and dash
More splashing
Lunch
First puncture
Yes
More splash and dashing
Mothership
Well earned end of day drink. Li-Marie had her first ever Rum here!
Surgery for a clutch issue
Muuuuch later, Beroemde Tarantaal strikes again
In Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, a full battery is right at the most fundamental of needs
Splash and dash
More splashing
Lunch
First puncture
Yes
More splash and dashing
Mothership
Well earned end of day drink. Li-Marie had her first ever Rum here!
Surgery for a clutch issue
Muuuuch later, Beroemde Tarantaal strikes again
- Joined
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- Stellenbosch
- Bike
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Clutch issue, maar daai man is dan by die sprocket kant? :biggrin:
- Joined
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- Location
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I asked Kamanya to join us on the tour because I needed someone to fill my roll at the back of the convoy in the bakkie to fix punctures, assist with general maintenance and supply the important tools etc. He is also an excellent rider who can commandeer a bike if any of the riders needed time in the bakkie to rest or heal.
I also have plans with Jaco (Hartebees) here on the forum, later this year on Quest, and wanted to see how far his patience can be stretched. A tour like this usually tests your patience and highlights your subsequent response perfectly. I therefor asked him to ride at the back and make sure all the riders get to camp safely.
My foot does not seem to want to heal the way I would like it to and I had to drive on a tour where I would really have preferred to ride.
Prior to the ride (on the day the guests arrived) I always make a point of making a mental note of what my first impressions of the riders are. (The people I meet for the first time)
It would be unfair to post those impressions here but I can tell you that I again learned not to judge a book by its cover with many of our guests.
Three of the riders were ex-Quest contestants who won the “Spirit of Quest” award. This award entitles you to a free tour in Northern Namibia with our team. It is awarded to contestants who embodies that adventure spirit throughout Quest.
Adriaan Theron, Rickus Vermeulen and Nic Rossouw are without doubt what I would describe as True Adventurers and everyone on this tour will tell you that they deserved the prize they won in 2018 and 2020 respectively. Together with Hartebees and Kamanya they rode bikes out of difficult, technical areas, fixed punctures and changed tubes, pulled of mechanical engineering feats (more of this later) and were very generous with their own time when others needed help. Oh yes, and they can ride bikes too…
To say I had all the help I needed on this tour is a massive understatement.
I also have plans with Jaco (Hartebees) here on the forum, later this year on Quest, and wanted to see how far his patience can be stretched. A tour like this usually tests your patience and highlights your subsequent response perfectly. I therefor asked him to ride at the back and make sure all the riders get to camp safely.
My foot does not seem to want to heal the way I would like it to and I had to drive on a tour where I would really have preferred to ride.
Prior to the ride (on the day the guests arrived) I always make a point of making a mental note of what my first impressions of the riders are. (The people I meet for the first time)
It would be unfair to post those impressions here but I can tell you that I again learned not to judge a book by its cover with many of our guests.
Three of the riders were ex-Quest contestants who won the “Spirit of Quest” award. This award entitles you to a free tour in Northern Namibia with our team. It is awarded to contestants who embodies that adventure spirit throughout Quest.
Adriaan Theron, Rickus Vermeulen and Nic Rossouw are without doubt what I would describe as True Adventurers and everyone on this tour will tell you that they deserved the prize they won in 2018 and 2020 respectively. Together with Hartebees and Kamanya they rode bikes out of difficult, technical areas, fixed punctures and changed tubes, pulled of mechanical engineering feats (more of this later) and were very generous with their own time when others needed help. Oh yes, and they can ride bikes too…
To say I had all the help I needed on this tour is a massive understatement.
Kamanya said:Surgery for a clutch issue
Thanks Kamaya :thumleft:
2StrokeDan said:
Moenie dof speel nie m'neer, djy's hopeloos te tegnies-slim vir dit
Correct, Johan's 690 clutch slave cylinder packed up, and at camp out of Mark's considerable spares voorraad he carried (he rides a 701 himself) came an original service kit for this purpose: a new gasket & O-ring packed inbetween sandwiched cardboad to prevent them from damage (this also tells you something about Mark's character lol, super!) ......
So, Happiness! :thumleft: :thumleft:
Because I still haal Nic & Adriaan deurmekaar (julle lyk dan op mekaar ook nog :-[ :
) 'one of them' helped Johan to get one and another fixed quick & proper - think it is Adriaan but don't bliksem me of it turns out to be Nic Anyway, Mark's considerable spares stock proved to come in handy here - but, now, depleted too regarding this specific potential mishap, I mean we can't expect him to carry more than one of each hmm?
I myself also had brought various goodies for 500's, like fuelpump kit, brakepads, wheelbearings & spacers, even a used but still quite good set of clutchplates which I've been happily riding with until very recently!
No repair kit for a clutch slave though, and the only available other spare kit had been used now..... and I had not yet discovered that my clutch reservoir had been leaking by this time, I discovered that only some 10 minutes later......
Day 4, third riding day
Palmwag to Mopane Camp / Opuwo
We woke up to dark still (Nam's time zoning is like CT's), 7-ish I reckon.
I had not heard a roaming elephant at night but for baritone caveman rumblings, however these were from afar - leaving Rob in the next stretcher innocent - which I told him
Out of bed and dressed in gear my very first task was to see if my bike still had a working clutch.... PHEW, relief, it did! :thumleft:
Also the sidestand worked, lekker!
Next coffee, breakfast, then making a lunchpacket out of the offerings on the table for later.
Quite a spread was there, and I decided on a single bun with salami. I'm no particular salami fan so a single slice would do I thought....
We packed up our gear, loaded the Mog and then, after a short briefing for the day, we headed off.
Because of the distance for the day I filled up again at the, adjacent to the campsite, petrol 'station' - merely a small canopy under which 2 pumps.
I remember 240km's for the day, and I knew I maaaaybe could make that with my 15L tank - so I knew I had to fill it to the literal brim (and ride like a wuss for several km's because it leaks then) plus I had to play less with the loudhandle.
Oh well...
I did that the entire distance, less fun but it suited me sortof, mousses don't like jaging in any case.
It was getting warm there too, duidelik warmer than at Windhoek or Spitzkoppe, I presume normal because we were largely heading North.
I remember Hardy saying 'die slange loop daar waar ons gaan', and at the time I thought this funny because there's always one in the group who's shitscared of these things
Somewhere along the route we found a spaza shop called 'Manchester United' - and this name definitely rang a bell, it's a rather famous Beer-stop in Kaokoland. I'd seen pictures of it, however this looked rather different?
Turns out this is not 'the' Manchester United bierplek, but it's fame & popularity has inspired this shop to copy the name
Anyway, the beer is the same, and was lekker k k k koud!ccasion14:
Wide dirtroads for the day again leading largely North, and we were to stop halfway some pass for lunch.
We did - and here I discovered I should have loaded my saarmie with plenty of that salami, it was genuinely lekker: special!
I planned there & then to make two saamies the next time I saw it!
I also discovered elephant dung some distance up a fairly barren roadside mountain I climbed, to make a photo of the lunching bunch - desert dombo's climb mountains eh? Never knew, but I reallyreally doubt that Hardy put some old drolle there to convince me they do this :lol8:
I forgot the name of this pass, paved now but apparently a lil' tricky uphill in the past.
In Opuwo we were urged by Hardy to fill up at the second petrol station we encountered (there is only two, a tiny dorpie!) because one would get inundated with and surrounded by Himba women (these are traditionally barebreasted...) trying to sell you things at this first one, Hardy used the word 'nuisance'.
Well, I just had to disagree with him, worse, I was forced to.... stop at that very first petrol station!
3 simple reasons:
- as I was riding past this first forbidden filling station (the one with all those alleged women begging for attention) on the remaining vapours in my tank I did not see another petrol station, so I needed petrol presto, within seconds, not minutes
- I had seen some rather attractive young Himba glands along our route during the day, and a ***'s a ***, come on now :lol8:
- my clutch had stopped working again the moment I hit that bit of tar Opuwo road - and this was waaaay more worrying than being forced to gawk at any red ****s, trust me on this bit at least.
So I stopped there, and yes, I'll admit to 2 things:
- there were some women trying to sell me trinkets, but they were rather mature and disappointingly properly dressed
- my empty tank took 12 Liters to fill up!
I only had to tell the salesladies once that I wasn't interested in buying colourful gravel, so it wasn't as bad (sigh....) as it was made out to be
Filled up hence discovered that mine isn't as big as I thought it is (Tip: this is THE chance to pester me with for eternity!), then limped the short distance to the campsite clutchless.
I had a potentially serious problem on my hands, and the now-confirmed fact that my bike ran a good 21.6 km/L instead of some 15-odd was only an unimportant relief for me!
The more technical riding was going to start the very next day, and the prospect of doing this without a working clutch isn't one to consider I think. On all the past roads we'd done yeah, sure, no problem at all, but descending van Zyl's or pulling away in sand isn't something one can do without a clutch.... ****!
Luckily it was quite early still, so at our Mopane camp just outside Opuwo I leant the bike against a tree, got my sleeping kit and started to disassemble the clutch's slave cylinder ..... to discover a completely useless O-ring, one which clearly could not handle the fluid used, now or in the past: almost twice its lenght, with thick and thin parts both
Enter Mark coming to the rescue again: "Here's the old gasket (inbetween small cardboads!) from yesterday (Johan's old one)!" - blimming handy because mine had come apart :thumleft:
No new O-ring though, and we all saw that that was the part I actually needed!
My disappointment must have been visible, for only minutes later Mark rocked up again - with a spanking new O-ring!
You're a star Mark! :thumleft: :thumleft: :thumleft:
Unfortunately the O-ring was too thick, by a millimeter in size/thickness, and my attempts of forcing it in failed (Tip: refer aforementioned Tip!).
A quick walk to Hardy's cruiser (re)confirmed he had no O-ring
Then Andrew rocks up a lil later, with another O-ring!
Very much appreciated indeed mister..... but also this one was, although a bit smaller in diameter, way too thick to allow forcing a fit (I'll not give Tips anymore, klaar!).
So, my riding was over, and I stitched my bike together so that dust would not ingress whilst being on the back of the bakkie :'(
I didn't come to ride a cruiser for the best part of the trip, so I wasn't in a good space then obviously.
Went to the bar for a beer, it was still light and warm, and mentioned my disappointment to the barman aka owner of the campsite, Gerrit I think his name is.
Then Gerrit mentions he own just about half of the adjacent dorp also, a hardeware winkel included, and they do sell O-rings!
But, it is Sunday and they're closed of course, so he will message his saleslady and see if something can be done.
In the hope this was going to be the case I lit up a bit, and had another beer!
No feedback for the next few hours and it's starting to get dark already, and I'm mentally resigning to ride shotgun in a bakkie already.
Anyway, I then get the news from Gerrit that his lady will open the shop for me, today still!
YAY!
He gives me directions and even offers me his bakkie - fuggit that's a nice Dude! :thumleft:
I may take and prefer Johan's 690 though, andraced poerpoered on it to the hardware outlet.
A friendly lady opened up and showed me two O-ring assortment boxes with plenty sizes to choose from.... but they're all of the too-thick variety.
I choose one which will juuuuust be pulled over the piston I brought with me, in the hope that stretching will make it thin-enough to fit, and I take 3 off them with me in case it will - for future repairs, the (only) opportunity is now!
Back at the camp it will not fit though, no way Jose, we could not get it in - "we" yes, this became a challenge for some of the others.
Ah well, we tried, we even tried the best supply option the town had to offer.... helaas to no avail
One hope remained though, which was that apparently a woman at the next-eve's camp sells O-rings to the locals out of a laaarge box of many many sizes - but this was somewhat unconvincing first, and second it meant I'd miss the next day's riding at minimum.
Oh well, let me go tell Hardy about my bad luck!
It's dark in the meantime, I think we've had dinner already, so I rock up at the staff's camping spot.
Before I can say something I see Hardy sitting with some assortment box on his knees, it's full of bolts, washers, god knows what.... and he dangles two O-rings in front of me, Viton one's nogals!
They look distinctly thinner as the one's I have tried thus far, and they look the correct diameter also - Hardy simply said "I found them" :lol8:
I grab one and hasten to my bike - where it fits purrrrrrrrfectly!
I reassemble the lot, put some fluid in, bleed the dang thing et voila, a super smooth (really, quite different than before!) working new-feeling clutch! :3some:
The group of bystanders remark that I should thank Hardy for rescuing my trip, and of course I do!
I walk over and tell Hardy that "there's several guys here who think I should oopbek soen jou om dankie te se", and before even he himself could say something Chantal sternly replies "I don't think that is necessary!" :lol8: :lol8: :lol8:
Sorry Chantal, but that was seriously funny!
Anyway, my trip was saved! :thumleft:
During my ride to town on that 690 though I discovered that Johan's bike was, except for showing some wear due to some spills, a bit hard sprung, so I asked him about this.
He said he only recently got the bike and had changed or set nothing suspension wise, so we agreed to help his riding confidence a bit by setting it up better the next eve, it was late already. Also, Johannes had helped him that eve trying to do some damage repairs by re-securing his 4 LED spots a bit better, as these had taken a battering during an off earlier.
Off to bed we all went, noone late in the bar (I checked! )
Palmwag to Mopane Camp / Opuwo
We woke up to dark still (Nam's time zoning is like CT's), 7-ish I reckon.
I had not heard a roaming elephant at night but for baritone caveman rumblings, however these were from afar - leaving Rob in the next stretcher innocent - which I told him
Out of bed and dressed in gear my very first task was to see if my bike still had a working clutch.... PHEW, relief, it did! :thumleft:
Also the sidestand worked, lekker!
Next coffee, breakfast, then making a lunchpacket out of the offerings on the table for later.
Quite a spread was there, and I decided on a single bun with salami. I'm no particular salami fan so a single slice would do I thought....
We packed up our gear, loaded the Mog and then, after a short briefing for the day, we headed off.
Because of the distance for the day I filled up again at the, adjacent to the campsite, petrol 'station' - merely a small canopy under which 2 pumps.
I remember 240km's for the day, and I knew I maaaaybe could make that with my 15L tank - so I knew I had to fill it to the literal brim (and ride like a wuss for several km's because it leaks then) plus I had to play less with the loudhandle.
Oh well...
I did that the entire distance, less fun but it suited me sortof, mousses don't like jaging in any case.
It was getting warm there too, duidelik warmer than at Windhoek or Spitzkoppe, I presume normal because we were largely heading North.
I remember Hardy saying 'die slange loop daar waar ons gaan', and at the time I thought this funny because there's always one in the group who's shitscared of these things
Somewhere along the route we found a spaza shop called 'Manchester United' - and this name definitely rang a bell, it's a rather famous Beer-stop in Kaokoland. I'd seen pictures of it, however this looked rather different?
Turns out this is not 'the' Manchester United bierplek, but it's fame & popularity has inspired this shop to copy the name
Anyway, the beer is the same, and was lekker k k k koud!
ccasion14:Wide dirtroads for the day again leading largely North, and we were to stop halfway some pass for lunch.
We did - and here I discovered I should have loaded my saarmie with plenty of that salami, it was genuinely lekker: special!
I planned there & then to make two saamies the next time I saw it!
I also discovered elephant dung some distance up a fairly barren roadside mountain I climbed, to make a photo of the lunching bunch - desert dombo's climb mountains eh? Never knew, but I reallyreally doubt that Hardy put some old drolle there to convince me they do this :lol8:
I forgot the name of this pass, paved now but apparently a lil' tricky uphill in the past.
In Opuwo we were urged by Hardy to fill up at the second petrol station we encountered (there is only two, a tiny dorpie!) because one would get inundated with and surrounded by Himba women (these are traditionally barebreasted...) trying to sell you things at this first one, Hardy used the word 'nuisance'.
Well, I just had to disagree with him, worse, I was forced to.... stop at that very first petrol station!
3 simple reasons:
- as I was riding past this first forbidden filling station (the one with all those alleged women begging for attention) on the remaining vapours in my tank I did not see another petrol station, so I needed petrol presto, within seconds, not minutes
- I had seen some rather attractive young Himba glands along our route during the day, and a ***'s a ***, come on now :lol8:
- my clutch had stopped working again the moment I hit that bit of tar Opuwo road - and this was waaaay more worrying than being forced to gawk at any red ****s, trust me on this bit at least.
So I stopped there, and yes, I'll admit to 2 things:
- there were some women trying to sell me trinkets, but they were rather mature and disappointingly properly dressed
- my empty tank took 12 Liters to fill up!
I only had to tell the salesladies once that I wasn't interested in buying colourful gravel, so it wasn't as bad (sigh....) as it was made out to be
Filled up hence discovered that mine isn't as big as I thought it is (Tip: this is THE chance to pester me with for eternity!), then limped the short distance to the campsite clutchless.
I had a potentially serious problem on my hands, and the now-confirmed fact that my bike ran a good 21.6 km/L instead of some 15-odd was only an unimportant relief for me!
The more technical riding was going to start the very next day, and the prospect of doing this without a working clutch isn't one to consider I think. On all the past roads we'd done yeah, sure, no problem at all, but descending van Zyl's or pulling away in sand isn't something one can do without a clutch.... ****!
Luckily it was quite early still, so at our Mopane camp just outside Opuwo I leant the bike against a tree, got my sleeping kit and started to disassemble the clutch's slave cylinder ..... to discover a completely useless O-ring, one which clearly could not handle the fluid used, now or in the past: almost twice its lenght, with thick and thin parts both
Enter Mark coming to the rescue again: "Here's the old gasket (inbetween small cardboads!) from yesterday (Johan's old one)!" - blimming handy because mine had come apart :thumleft:
No new O-ring though, and we all saw that that was the part I actually needed!
My disappointment must have been visible, for only minutes later Mark rocked up again - with a spanking new O-ring!
You're a star Mark! :thumleft: :thumleft: :thumleft:
Unfortunately the O-ring was too thick, by a millimeter in size/thickness, and my attempts of forcing it in failed (Tip: refer aforementioned Tip!).
A quick walk to Hardy's cruiser (re)confirmed he had no O-ring
Then Andrew rocks up a lil later, with another O-ring!
Very much appreciated indeed mister..... but also this one was, although a bit smaller in diameter, way too thick to allow forcing a fit (I'll not give Tips anymore, klaar!).
So, my riding was over, and I stitched my bike together so that dust would not ingress whilst being on the back of the bakkie :'(
I didn't come to ride a cruiser for the best part of the trip, so I wasn't in a good space then obviously.
Went to the bar for a beer, it was still light and warm, and mentioned my disappointment to the barman aka owner of the campsite, Gerrit I think his name is.
Then Gerrit mentions he own just about half of the adjacent dorp also, a hardeware winkel included, and they do sell O-rings!
But, it is Sunday and they're closed of course, so he will message his saleslady and see if something can be done.
In the hope this was going to be the case I lit up a bit, and had another beer!
No feedback for the next few hours and it's starting to get dark already, and I'm mentally resigning to ride shotgun in a bakkie already.
Anyway, I then get the news from Gerrit that his lady will open the shop for me, today still!
YAY!
He gives me directions and even offers me his bakkie - fuggit that's a nice Dude! :thumleft:
I may take and prefer Johan's 690 though, and
A friendly lady opened up and showed me two O-ring assortment boxes with plenty sizes to choose from.... but they're all of the too-thick variety.
I choose one which will juuuuust be pulled over the piston I brought with me, in the hope that stretching will make it thin-enough to fit, and I take 3 off them with me in case it will - for future repairs, the (only) opportunity is now!
Back at the camp it will not fit though, no way Jose, we could not get it in - "we" yes, this became a challenge for some of the others.
Ah well, we tried, we even tried the best supply option the town had to offer.... helaas to no avail
One hope remained though, which was that apparently a woman at the next-eve's camp sells O-rings to the locals out of a laaarge box of many many sizes - but this was somewhat unconvincing first, and second it meant I'd miss the next day's riding at minimum.
Oh well, let me go tell Hardy about my bad luck!
It's dark in the meantime, I think we've had dinner already, so I rock up at the staff's camping spot.
Before I can say something I see Hardy sitting with some assortment box on his knees, it's full of bolts, washers, god knows what.... and he dangles two O-rings in front of me, Viton one's nogals!
They look distinctly thinner as the one's I have tried thus far, and they look the correct diameter also - Hardy simply said "I found them" :lol8:
I grab one and hasten to my bike - where it fits purrrrrrrrfectly!
I reassemble the lot, put some fluid in, bleed the dang thing et voila, a super smooth (really, quite different than before!) working new-feeling clutch! :3some:
The group of bystanders remark that I should thank Hardy for rescuing my trip, and of course I do!
I walk over and tell Hardy that "there's several guys here who think I should oopbek soen jou om dankie te se", and before even he himself could say something Chantal sternly replies "I don't think that is necessary!" :lol8: :lol8: :lol8:
Sorry Chantal, but that was seriously funny!
Anyway, my trip was saved! :thumleft:
During my ride to town on that 690 though I discovered that Johan's bike was, except for showing some wear due to some spills, a bit hard sprung, so I asked him about this.
He said he only recently got the bike and had changed or set nothing suspension wise, so we agreed to help his riding confidence a bit by setting it up better the next eve, it was late already. Also, Johannes had helped him that eve trying to do some damage repairs by re-securing his 4 LED spots a bit better, as these had taken a battering during an off earlier.
Off to bed we all went, noone late in the bar (I checked!
)Attachments
Day 5, fourth riding day
Mopane Camp to Epupa Falls
We left Mopane Camp at at reasonable time as the riding distances from now on were less. Thus far we have been riding North to basically get there, in doing so sorting out bike-niggles as well as becoming more of a social group - and remember, for me this meant that I perhaps will call Hannes Japie by this time
Today we would reach our most-Northern destination that day: the Cunene River, which is the border between Namibia and Angola.
A lil briefing highlighted this, and we'd see the last 'traffic' for the day as we were about to enter the 'real' riding bits - no more roads but tracks and some sand, we were about to start the more enjoyable and very remote offroad riding - the stuff I'd come for :thumleft:
So, a lekker day ahead!
'Stop when you see the Cunene river, there's a memorial, we'll have lunch there' was the basics of the briefing, so off we went.
We rode the last roads - which were just about deserted of course, nothing new here, this part of Namibia is empty.
And, after a while, on a downhill somewhere the Cunene made itself visible: a rather large river, never mind Hardy mentioned it apparently is a bit low on water at the moment!
Jaco told us the monument at that spot (forgot the name, sorry - anyone?) was erected as a memorial for a group of Boers returning from Angola into Namibia, for reason of an unwilling to cooperate with them Porra government in Angola - or something like that.
The buggers had been heaving wagons through that large river, not an easy feat even today!
Anyway, a lekker lunch was had, and off we went after a warning that now we'd ride a bit more technical terrain, and would see our first real sand!
Through a settlement a track led West along the Cunene river, and yeah, this was more like some bundu-bashing, great - and keep yer eye on the GPS otherwise you'll do some off-track detours (which I promptly did, I initially missed the turnoff)
Some small loose sandy riverbeds were crossed, and for some these were scary - sand riding is something one has to get used to, simple as that - so this was a good exercise.
May I mention Andre of our group here?
A tall dude, ex rugby player which still shows, a moerofagood rider and always haastig, a nice chap.... and he was of course jumping around wildly - which he can too, he makes that WR450 look diminutive by towering over it whilst manhandling this puny-looking bike with him on it, looking silly & awesome at the same time
Now, Rob, on his CRF300, was at some stage behind Andre who at that moment jumped/dove off an embankment into a wiiiiide sand river, dry of course. But he had to brake or something, and he caused some dust for Rob.... which forced Rob to take evasive action amidst a dustcloud, obviously not ideal.
Rob tumbled off that embankment and fell, and hurt his ribcage - see pics below, he's not a happy chappie
Those who were near immediately attended to him - but, as this was at a spot a little off track (I told you Andre's a bit haastig at times ) others were entering this sandy river (dry, loose sand!) a bit further up.
Enter Werner on his 701, trying to get going again in the middle of that large sandy area, roaring his engine massively for long, really long, too long to be healthy.... and keep in mind that he did this when we were milling around Rob some distance away!
Then he stopped revving the poor bike, and I started screaming to him (from some 80 meters away lol) that he better take it easier - but with vigor he started again, massively revving his poor bike, and drowning my well meant advice with the howling sound of his bike
I think it was Kevin who got next to him first, then others joined.
They tried all to get Werner going again but more sensibly this time, but the damage was done: clutch burnt out! :-[
Meantime Hardy had entered the riverbed with the cruiser, and of course was helping Rob et al so scroo any bike at that moment!
"Havoc" anyone?
It was, not funny
Anyway, the short of the long was Rob was loaded in the cruiser, Kamanya (who was Hardy's shotgun until that moment) offloaded the KTM525 and instead Werner's 701 was loaded, Werner had to ride Rob's CRF300 to the camp due to space constraints on the bakkie whilst Kamanya rode the 525.
Oh well, seeing the circumstances that was an amicable solution for this unfortunate fuggup-moment :thumleft:
We rode off again, and the fun bits (sorry, I think & thought the route was loads better than a dirtroad) came to and end soon, the route led us back onto the road along the Cunene.
Here Johan and me teamed up, me ahead, and we rode the road.... until I spotted a little detour >
Hell, it was a dotted line, a detour even, so I dove off down into some bush.
Vegetation galore there, and some footpath indicated that it was used by pedestrians as a shortcut indeed - all good!
Around a fallen tree on I went.... to discover that Johan wasn't following anymore.
Going back I find him, he got around and we continued... until the path became a narrow rock-strewn off-camber thingy, with a small but deep-enough-to-be-a-problem body of water on the right.
Easy enough on even a bigger bike but, excuse me here, Johan's riding on his 690 could have been better at that moment. He also queried if this was wise to do, and the vision of us heaving a bike out of the water down there wasn't too appealing - so we turned back
Yeah, a wiser decision, but not better
Anyway, we joined the road again and arrived at the campsite - a stunning site right at the Cunene river's Epupa Falls!
Because of our lil detour most others were there already, and Rickus had started to take Werner's 701's clutch apart: bad news, all properly black inside, the narrower outer friction plate had shattered into pulp which had worked its way into the engine itself..... no more 701 for the trip for Werner!
I don't have any pics of this, please post some if you have?
At the same time Kamanya was busy taking the triple clamps out of his 525 - huh?
I asked, and he casually mentioned that the head bearings were notchy, he would replace these!
Oh really, a field repair including some races to be knocked out etc, and you actually carry the spares for such?
Well Yes it turned out, they knew about this small problem so they had planned to do this at some time.
Specialized Adventures indeed Squire, you must have noticed I was a lil surprised
Oh, please post a few piccies of this? Got zilch myself...
So, not to be outdone I tackled Johan's 690 - hell, everybody else were busy spannering weren't they?
I only set his suspension better though because I'm lazy: his bike went from Standard to Comfort, plus I added some Rebound to the rear so as to prevent the bike kicking his butt on rocks (which we'd see as from tomorrow!).
Reason was, Johan could do with some help from his bike, he only had been riding offroad for the past 6 months - doing better yeah but having too many WHOAA moments
The next day would tell if it would make a difference.
Phones were charged, (also) data was bought at the bar, and we had a lekker dinner around a campfire.
I think this was the first time I spotted the jerrycan full of Oros, and it was hot here.... so I drank much of it, lekker, sorry :-[
Rob was parked on a stretcher in the shade and fed all kinds of opiates and other dopes, he was blisfully unaware of all the spannering and milling-about in the camp.
Now, it turned out Werner was rather (to put it mildly) hesitant to ride Rob's 300 any further, he actually wanted to ride shotgun in a bakkie.
His reasoning was he did not want to ride anyone's property, and especially not Rob's new 300!
That's commendable first, let me be honest here... but also, given the situation we were in, not very practical at all!
Let me in the same breath commend Rob (you're a good sport dude!) that he was mooore than happy to lend Werner his bike! His ride was over, he would be repatriated home the next day, however with the Mog so no means of transporting his bike, it had to go onto Hardy's cruiser - which could take another bike (Werner's 701 was on it now) but then would be chokkablock full!
And that meant that any next bike-mishap would mean we had to leave that bike in nomansland, basically abandon it in deep deserted remote Namibia..... a preventable thing of course, Werner simply had to ride Rob's bike: it was the only sensible thing to do!
Besides, the much lighter 300 probably would put only smiles on Werner's face, and he would finish his trip riding!
Once pointed out all this he'd sleep on it, and decide tomorrow morning! :thumleft:
We all slept with the soothing sounds of the falls in the backgroud, and for those who would want a getaway with their undoubtedly prettier half - THIS is the campsite to book into! :thumleft:
Mopane Camp to Epupa Falls
We left Mopane Camp at at reasonable time as the riding distances from now on were less. Thus far we have been riding North to basically get there, in doing so sorting out bike-niggles as well as becoming more of a social group - and remember, for me this meant that I perhaps will call Hannes Japie by this time
Today we would reach our most-Northern destination that day: the Cunene River, which is the border between Namibia and Angola.
A lil briefing highlighted this, and we'd see the last 'traffic' for the day as we were about to enter the 'real' riding bits - no more roads but tracks and some sand, we were about to start the more enjoyable and very remote offroad riding - the stuff I'd come for :thumleft:
So, a lekker day ahead!
'Stop when you see the Cunene river, there's a memorial, we'll have lunch there' was the basics of the briefing, so off we went.
We rode the last roads - which were just about deserted of course, nothing new here, this part of Namibia is empty.
And, after a while, on a downhill somewhere the Cunene made itself visible: a rather large river, never mind Hardy mentioned it apparently is a bit low on water at the moment!
Jaco told us the monument at that spot (forgot the name, sorry - anyone?) was erected as a memorial for a group of Boers returning from Angola into Namibia, for reason of an unwilling to cooperate with them Porra government in Angola - or something like that.
The buggers had been heaving wagons through that large river, not an easy feat even today!
Anyway, a lekker lunch was had, and off we went after a warning that now we'd ride a bit more technical terrain, and would see our first real sand!
Through a settlement a track led West along the Cunene river, and yeah, this was more like some bundu-bashing, great - and keep yer eye on the GPS otherwise you'll do some off-track detours (which I promptly did, I initially missed the turnoff)
Some small loose sandy riverbeds were crossed, and for some these were scary - sand riding is something one has to get used to, simple as that - so this was a good exercise.
May I mention Andre of our group here?
A tall dude, ex rugby player which still shows, a moerofagood rider and always haastig, a nice chap.... and he was of course jumping around wildly - which he can too, he makes that WR450 look diminutive by towering over it whilst manhandling this puny-looking bike with him on it, looking silly & awesome at the same time
Now, Rob, on his CRF300, was at some stage behind Andre who at that moment jumped/dove off an embankment into a wiiiiide sand river, dry of course. But he had to brake or something, and he caused some dust for Rob.... which forced Rob to take evasive action amidst a dustcloud, obviously not ideal.
Rob tumbled off that embankment and fell, and hurt his ribcage - see pics below, he's not a happy chappie
Those who were near immediately attended to him - but, as this was at a spot a little off track (I told you Andre's a bit haastig at times
) others were entering this sandy river (dry, loose sand!) a bit further up.Enter Werner on his 701, trying to get going again in the middle of that large sandy area, roaring his engine massively for long, really long, too long to be healthy.... and keep in mind that he did this when we were milling around Rob some distance away!
Then he stopped revving the poor bike, and I started screaming to him (from some 80 meters away lol) that he better take it easier - but with vigor he started again, massively revving his poor bike, and drowning my well meant advice with the howling sound of his bike
I think it was Kevin who got next to him first, then others joined.
They tried all to get Werner going again but more sensibly this time, but the damage was done: clutch burnt out! :-[
Meantime Hardy had entered the riverbed with the cruiser, and of course was helping Rob et al so scroo any bike at that moment!
"Havoc" anyone?
It was, not funny
Anyway, the short of the long was Rob was loaded in the cruiser, Kamanya (who was Hardy's shotgun until that moment) offloaded the KTM525 and instead Werner's 701 was loaded, Werner had to ride Rob's CRF300 to the camp due to space constraints on the bakkie whilst Kamanya rode the 525.
Oh well, seeing the circumstances that was an amicable solution for this unfortunate fuggup-moment :thumleft:
We rode off again, and the fun bits (sorry, I think & thought the route was loads better than a dirtroad) came to and end soon, the route led us back onto the road along the Cunene.
Here Johan and me teamed up, me ahead, and we rode the road.... until I spotted a little detour >
Hell, it was a dotted line, a detour even, so I dove off down into some bush.
Vegetation galore there, and some footpath indicated that it was used by pedestrians as a shortcut indeed - all good!
Around a fallen tree on I went.... to discover that Johan wasn't following anymore.
Going back I find him, he got around and we continued... until the path became a narrow rock-strewn off-camber thingy, with a small but deep-enough-to-be-a-problem body of water on the right.
Easy enough on even a bigger bike but, excuse me here, Johan's riding on his 690 could have been better at that moment. He also queried if this was wise to do, and the vision of us heaving a bike out of the water down there wasn't too appealing - so we turned back
Yeah, a wiser decision, but not better
Anyway, we joined the road again and arrived at the campsite - a stunning site right at the Cunene river's Epupa Falls!
Because of our lil detour most others were there already, and Rickus had started to take Werner's 701's clutch apart: bad news, all properly black inside, the narrower outer friction plate had shattered into pulp which had worked its way into the engine itself..... no more 701 for the trip for Werner!
I don't have any pics of this, please post some if you have?
At the same time Kamanya was busy taking the triple clamps out of his 525 - huh?
I asked, and he casually mentioned that the head bearings were notchy, he would replace these!
Oh really, a field repair including some races to be knocked out etc, and you actually carry the spares for such?
Well Yes it turned out, they knew about this small problem so they had planned to do this at some time.
Specialized Adventures indeed Squire, you must have noticed I was a lil surprised
Oh, please post a few piccies of this? Got zilch myself...
So, not to be outdone I tackled Johan's 690 - hell, everybody else were busy spannering weren't they?
I only set his suspension better though because I'm lazy: his bike went from Standard to Comfort, plus I added some Rebound to the rear so as to prevent the bike kicking his butt on rocks (which we'd see as from tomorrow!).
Reason was, Johan could do with some help from his bike, he only had been riding offroad for the past 6 months - doing better yeah but having too many WHOAA moments
The next day would tell if it would make a difference.
Phones were charged, (also) data was bought at the bar, and we had a lekker dinner around a campfire.
I think this was the first time I spotted the jerrycan full of Oros, and it was hot here.... so I drank much of it, lekker, sorry :-[
Rob was parked on a stretcher in the shade and fed all kinds of opiates and other dopes, he was blisfully unaware of all the spannering and milling-about in the camp.
Now, it turned out Werner was rather (to put it mildly) hesitant to ride Rob's 300 any further, he actually wanted to ride shotgun in a bakkie.
His reasoning was he did not want to ride anyone's property, and especially not Rob's new 300!
That's commendable first, let me be honest here... but also, given the situation we were in, not very practical at all!
Let me in the same breath commend Rob (you're a good sport dude!) that he was mooore than happy to lend Werner his bike! His ride was over, he would be repatriated home the next day, however with the Mog so no means of transporting his bike, it had to go onto Hardy's cruiser - which could take another bike (Werner's 701 was on it now) but then would be chokkablock full!
And that meant that any next bike-mishap would mean we had to leave that bike in nomansland, basically abandon it in deep deserted remote Namibia..... a preventable thing of course, Werner simply had to ride Rob's bike: it was the only sensible thing to do!
Besides, the much lighter 300 probably would put only smiles on Werner's face, and he would finish his trip riding!
Once pointed out all this he'd sleep on it, and decide tomorrow morning! :thumleft:
We all slept with the soothing sounds of the falls in the backgroud, and for those who would want a getaway with their undoubtedly prettier half - THIS is the campsite to book into! :thumleft:
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Chantal Burger
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Hardy, Oubones & Andrew busy with the 525 @ Epupa Falls
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Chantal Burger
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Chantal Burger
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Not a bad view from the “kitchen”
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