RossCalder
Puppy
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2009
- Messages
- 47
- Reaction score
- 0
- Location
- Constantia, Cape Town
- Bike
- BMW R1200GS Adventure
We left Casa Lisa around 5am, the sun was already threatening the horizon as we joined the tar road to Maputo. It was Sunday morning and we want to avoid the chaos of Maputo's traffic and pedestrian mayhem. Well miss it we did, I don't remember seeing a vehicle or any other sign of life until we thundered down Kenneth Kaunda and swung into Marginal Avenue, the beach road.
Save for a vagrant or two the place was a ghost town, our Akrapovics echoed off the boarded up stores, shopping bags danced haphazardly in the intersections before racing us down the four lane road. Not a coffee shop in sight and we weren't exactly dressed for the Polana's white table cloths and colonial attitude. So we started the queue at the Maputo / Catembe ferry and hauled out the breakfast (ammo) box and made ourselves comfortable. As the sun, our dear companion of 75 days rose up and unrelentingly began to beat down on us, the queue started to build up along Indian Ocean Drive.
We were squeezed onto the ferry, along with 13 other vehicles, about 100 passengers and a plethora of livestock heading for a unique participation in Sunday lunch. As the big Diesel belched and the ferry rumbled across the bay I heard the voice of Kenzogs (Dirtdogs member) screaming in my head .... whilst doing some intel on this section of our trip he came to my aid ... well he gave me some advise, in his 10 point email (see point 5) below ...
"5) Now the $64000 question??? How confident are you in sand on a sandy tweespoor track??? From about 20km north of Ponto it is sandy tweespoor. But north of Ponto there are so many tracks and some are worse than others. I have found that just following the hard gravel past Salamanga to the end and then following the "straightest" track (don't know how to describe this better) is usually the best. If you wanted to go straight to the border then follow the track to the right that says "Airport" (yes Airport!) and it goes past the airfield to the border post. I have not ridden from Ponto to the border but I am told it is much, thick thick sand in deep grooves, steep and high sand dunes, for a few keys."
I hadn't told my sons too much about the ride other than its a "bit" sandy ... the elder is fairly experienced having done 5 long rides before, my youngest is a newbie but a fighter and I was confident that he would be driven (or ridden) to keep up with us. We are on 3 fully kitted F800 GS's, running on Mitas E-07's ... they were in good shape despite over 11000km under the belt.
The first 50km is your standard gravel road, nice and firm with a few errant stoney sections just enough to test our rims and tubes. We are soon into a different surface and some earlier rains had muddied up the roads and the millions of 4x4's that travel this route had created deep, crusty, meandering ruts. Some filled with thick sand and others just hard and crunchy enough to grab the from wheel. Our rear tyres were being put to the test as we lightened the load on the fronts. this yellow dog of a road swayed and climbed and plummeted and snarled, its toothy gums snapping at us all the way.
I curse Kenzogs ...
After an hour and a half of this hand wrenching, neck jarring, stomach turning and absolutely beautiful road we stopped to catch our breath and wait for the Landys ... they arrived all too soon having made short work of the road we had just suffered on. "How the hell was that?" I had asked as the stopped in a gust of rusty dust ... "How the hell was what?" they replied, damn these 4x4'ers, they need to harden up!!!
Drenched in ice col water, our jackets discarded in the 45 degree heat, we started up a small climb where the road turned towards Bella Vista and the coast, 21km to Kosi. Although the narrow tar road to Bella, that appeared from nowhere, seemed rather appealing - our route was to stay inland. After cresting the hill the hell started. The tweespoor is thick sand churned up by the hoards of 4x4's that had recently travelled this track on their long weekend holidays in SA or Ponto Do Ouro. The track is cut about 1m into the earth, as you ride in the tenspoor a root or branch grabs at the handle bars or tugs on our arms, but its ok cos if you have stop the bike just stands upright ... then its like Michael Jackson in mid moonwalk as we have to walk/ride the bikes out of the dirty sea sand - a plume of great dust roistering onto the guy behind.
Again, I curse Kenzogs ...
It takes half an hour to get down the hill, all of 1km of gradual slope, when we do have a moment to look up we are surrounded by lush rolling hills, the two Landrovers wait patiently behind us, they seem to be floating along, the occupants in a cocoon of air-conditioned mooiness. The heat is oppressive but the horizon is now a dark and flashing bank of clouds ... not long to go, 20km left.
Kenzogs!!! You M%^$&# F&^*%$
As if the road isn't testing enough, all those Mozambique fellas in their 4x4's are heading home and we have to dodge a few, occasionally one would stop us and ask for directions ... in Portuguese nogal! The roads ar not wide enough to pass the vehicles so we either have to lean the bikes into the bush or the vehicles mount the sidewalls so we can slather past, sometimes dislodging their wing mirrors to unmentionable protestations (from us, not them). We saw our first 4x4 Toyota e20 Taxi - apparently imported from the Middle East - they drive just as badly off the road as they do on it!!!!
I have decided that there isn't a way to ride this kind sand, I did the big and brave "head up and throttle up" I did the slow and careful, I did the aggressive and forceful ... to no avail. The sand is so thick and the narrow lanes swerve like a puff adders pre strike position, only here when it strikes we explode in a puff of sand, mouths spitting out sand, helmets packing up with sand and sweat. We stop, shake our heads, an occasional nervous laugh, another liter of cold water, the storm from the south is nearing and the wind starts to add to our challenge.
Too tired even to curse Kenzogs ...
And so it goes on, sand sand and more f@$%*ing sand, every now and again the grassy sides are rideable and on occasion we cautiously take to the undulating surface, the odd grass covered donna an ever present threat. Not much further, an our later and we have managed 10 more km. At one stage my two sons (fit buggers) had gotten a few 100m ahead of me, I saw a short cut that cut diagonally across a grassy section and I unleashed my ego, I could catch them before a massive dune looming a km or so ahead.! As I caught up to them they were slowly disappearing lower and lower ... the track they were on dropped 3m below the surface I was on so as I was to join the road behind them I slowed cautiously and stopped on a precipice 3m above them, the front Mita hanging over the edge like a suicidal maniac on the Storms river bridge ... then, like the day I met my wife, the earth moved and I became part of an avalanche of sand and grass and scrub .... years of experience (hahahahahahaha) and a lot of dumb luck, I turned onto the tweespoor just behind the boys. When we stopped a 100m later I looked back to see the Landy passengers searching through the sand for me!!! As they described it later they said it looked like I had been swallowed up by the sand, they hadn't seen me slip out to the avalanche like a snowboard pro.
It was now just after 4, we have been at this 194km days ride for 11 hours, save for the 3 hours waiting and traveling the ferry we were 8 hours in the saddle. Not far to go, the first splatters of rain speckle the dry earth, we don't notice them on our drenched t shirt. Not too long now, up and over this grassy dune and we a mere 6km from Kosi.
FFS Kenzogs, why did you say this was ridable????
Climbing the dune was great, we raced up along the grassy edge, the cool air bringing back some attitude. The way down is a slide, we hang our legs down and literally ride the avalanche of sand ... we can see the cell phone masts at the Kosi border, then the rain comes.
When I think of the ride today my eyes well up with a deep sense of pride and joy, at the joy the three of us felt as we eventually limped soggily into the car park, we climbed of our bikes and the three of us huddled in an embrace, too tired to even remove our helmets ... my boys both play rugby for Edinburgh Uni ... at that moment I recalled the feeling of team spirit and what it was like to endure such physical challenges in a "team" - I have always been close to my sons, but this moment the three of us had experienced something that very few people get to do ... where father and sons overcome challenges together. I know we had just ridden a ride that they will one day tell their grandchildren about ... cos I know I will.
The 7km to the lodge at Kosi Mouth was the smoothest I had ever had, we rode slowly in formation, three true Wilddogs and two honorary WD's in the Landys behind us. gonna punish that shower ......
Save for a vagrant or two the place was a ghost town, our Akrapovics echoed off the boarded up stores, shopping bags danced haphazardly in the intersections before racing us down the four lane road. Not a coffee shop in sight and we weren't exactly dressed for the Polana's white table cloths and colonial attitude. So we started the queue at the Maputo / Catembe ferry and hauled out the breakfast (ammo) box and made ourselves comfortable. As the sun, our dear companion of 75 days rose up and unrelentingly began to beat down on us, the queue started to build up along Indian Ocean Drive.
We were squeezed onto the ferry, along with 13 other vehicles, about 100 passengers and a plethora of livestock heading for a unique participation in Sunday lunch. As the big Diesel belched and the ferry rumbled across the bay I heard the voice of Kenzogs (Dirtdogs member) screaming in my head .... whilst doing some intel on this section of our trip he came to my aid ... well he gave me some advise, in his 10 point email (see point 5) below ...
"5) Now the $64000 question??? How confident are you in sand on a sandy tweespoor track??? From about 20km north of Ponto it is sandy tweespoor. But north of Ponto there are so many tracks and some are worse than others. I have found that just following the hard gravel past Salamanga to the end and then following the "straightest" track (don't know how to describe this better) is usually the best. If you wanted to go straight to the border then follow the track to the right that says "Airport" (yes Airport!) and it goes past the airfield to the border post. I have not ridden from Ponto to the border but I am told it is much, thick thick sand in deep grooves, steep and high sand dunes, for a few keys."
I hadn't told my sons too much about the ride other than its a "bit" sandy ... the elder is fairly experienced having done 5 long rides before, my youngest is a newbie but a fighter and I was confident that he would be driven (or ridden) to keep up with us. We are on 3 fully kitted F800 GS's, running on Mitas E-07's ... they were in good shape despite over 11000km under the belt.
The first 50km is your standard gravel road, nice and firm with a few errant stoney sections just enough to test our rims and tubes. We are soon into a different surface and some earlier rains had muddied up the roads and the millions of 4x4's that travel this route had created deep, crusty, meandering ruts. Some filled with thick sand and others just hard and crunchy enough to grab the from wheel. Our rear tyres were being put to the test as we lightened the load on the fronts. this yellow dog of a road swayed and climbed and plummeted and snarled, its toothy gums snapping at us all the way.
I curse Kenzogs ...
After an hour and a half of this hand wrenching, neck jarring, stomach turning and absolutely beautiful road we stopped to catch our breath and wait for the Landys ... they arrived all too soon having made short work of the road we had just suffered on. "How the hell was that?" I had asked as the stopped in a gust of rusty dust ... "How the hell was what?" they replied, damn these 4x4'ers, they need to harden up!!!
Drenched in ice col water, our jackets discarded in the 45 degree heat, we started up a small climb where the road turned towards Bella Vista and the coast, 21km to Kosi. Although the narrow tar road to Bella, that appeared from nowhere, seemed rather appealing - our route was to stay inland. After cresting the hill the hell started. The tweespoor is thick sand churned up by the hoards of 4x4's that had recently travelled this track on their long weekend holidays in SA or Ponto Do Ouro. The track is cut about 1m into the earth, as you ride in the tenspoor a root or branch grabs at the handle bars or tugs on our arms, but its ok cos if you have stop the bike just stands upright ... then its like Michael Jackson in mid moonwalk as we have to walk/ride the bikes out of the dirty sea sand - a plume of great dust roistering onto the guy behind.
Again, I curse Kenzogs ...
It takes half an hour to get down the hill, all of 1km of gradual slope, when we do have a moment to look up we are surrounded by lush rolling hills, the two Landrovers wait patiently behind us, they seem to be floating along, the occupants in a cocoon of air-conditioned mooiness. The heat is oppressive but the horizon is now a dark and flashing bank of clouds ... not long to go, 20km left.
Kenzogs!!! You M%^$&# F&^*%$
As if the road isn't testing enough, all those Mozambique fellas in their 4x4's are heading home and we have to dodge a few, occasionally one would stop us and ask for directions ... in Portuguese nogal! The roads ar not wide enough to pass the vehicles so we either have to lean the bikes into the bush or the vehicles mount the sidewalls so we can slather past, sometimes dislodging their wing mirrors to unmentionable protestations (from us, not them). We saw our first 4x4 Toyota e20 Taxi - apparently imported from the Middle East - they drive just as badly off the road as they do on it!!!!
I have decided that there isn't a way to ride this kind sand, I did the big and brave "head up and throttle up" I did the slow and careful, I did the aggressive and forceful ... to no avail. The sand is so thick and the narrow lanes swerve like a puff adders pre strike position, only here when it strikes we explode in a puff of sand, mouths spitting out sand, helmets packing up with sand and sweat. We stop, shake our heads, an occasional nervous laugh, another liter of cold water, the storm from the south is nearing and the wind starts to add to our challenge.
Too tired even to curse Kenzogs ...
And so it goes on, sand sand and more f@$%*ing sand, every now and again the grassy sides are rideable and on occasion we cautiously take to the undulating surface, the odd grass covered donna an ever present threat. Not much further, an our later and we have managed 10 more km. At one stage my two sons (fit buggers) had gotten a few 100m ahead of me, I saw a short cut that cut diagonally across a grassy section and I unleashed my ego, I could catch them before a massive dune looming a km or so ahead.! As I caught up to them they were slowly disappearing lower and lower ... the track they were on dropped 3m below the surface I was on so as I was to join the road behind them I slowed cautiously and stopped on a precipice 3m above them, the front Mita hanging over the edge like a suicidal maniac on the Storms river bridge ... then, like the day I met my wife, the earth moved and I became part of an avalanche of sand and grass and scrub .... years of experience (hahahahahahaha) and a lot of dumb luck, I turned onto the tweespoor just behind the boys. When we stopped a 100m later I looked back to see the Landy passengers searching through the sand for me!!! As they described it later they said it looked like I had been swallowed up by the sand, they hadn't seen me slip out to the avalanche like a snowboard pro.
It was now just after 4, we have been at this 194km days ride for 11 hours, save for the 3 hours waiting and traveling the ferry we were 8 hours in the saddle. Not far to go, the first splatters of rain speckle the dry earth, we don't notice them on our drenched t shirt. Not too long now, up and over this grassy dune and we a mere 6km from Kosi.
FFS Kenzogs, why did you say this was ridable????
Climbing the dune was great, we raced up along the grassy edge, the cool air bringing back some attitude. The way down is a slide, we hang our legs down and literally ride the avalanche of sand ... we can see the cell phone masts at the Kosi border, then the rain comes.
When I think of the ride today my eyes well up with a deep sense of pride and joy, at the joy the three of us felt as we eventually limped soggily into the car park, we climbed of our bikes and the three of us huddled in an embrace, too tired to even remove our helmets ... my boys both play rugby for Edinburgh Uni ... at that moment I recalled the feeling of team spirit and what it was like to endure such physical challenges in a "team" - I have always been close to my sons, but this moment the three of us had experienced something that very few people get to do ... where father and sons overcome challenges together. I know we had just ridden a ride that they will one day tell their grandchildren about ... cos I know I will.
The 7km to the lodge at Kosi Mouth was the smoothest I had ever had, we rode slowly in formation, three true Wilddogs and two honorary WD's in the Landys behind us. gonna punish that shower ......
