East Cape Bash – and Beyond.

Carnivore · Jun 20, 2009

Riding alone can be very rewarding.

With much ant…icip.ati….on…… the night before the night before the day of departure arrived, and after many unsuccessful look-see attempts and try-this attempts…I finally hit on the correct and logical way to mount my Comet 500’s. You see, I have always luuuurved fitting spot lights to cars, bakkies, aeroplanes…. But these days, cars have plastic bumpers and so the art is being lost forever…. But wait… bikes need more lights too, don’t they?

Having established that the alternator was up to the task of running absolutely everything on the White Stallion, out came the oxy torch and the welding plant…

Voila! (I think that is French for spotlights..)

Thursday night, bag tied down… GPS mounted… darn! Home made power plug ISM… Right, no worries, just make a new one.. I had two ready-made wires with terminals… on they go, out with the glue gun… nice dollop in the plug hole… aaaaaaaggh! Forgot to put spray and cook in the hole before moulding the plug.

I had to spend an hour digging out the glue, and in the process, broke off the –ve pin. Yes, what a stupid wally thing to do! Well, I cut up a genuine Garmin power cable and did the soldered joint thang… and there was sufficient stump of a pin to make contact. Lesson learned the hard way. Still gotta get that pin replaced/fixed…

Anyway, off to work on Friday, and the day passed v e r y s l o w l y as I gazed out my office window at Strydomsberg peak exactly 23 km to the west.

Things got a bit delayed with wrapping up some issues, and I only left the factory at 3pm. Seeing as I was riding solo, I was under no pressure to leave and RVZ anywhere… it was just me, myself and I on the trail.

I took the dirt road about 3km out of Uitenhage and was as happy as a lark. Connected with the Elandsrivirer road about 6km down from Uncle Freddies and was soon in the dust of two huge concrete mixer trucks. After a while, I sat down for a bit of a contemplatory moment with my Olympus.

Am I worried about it getting dark? ………… no……..!
I am just enjoying the ride and the road. The sun was certainly getting tired of hanging in the sky all day… and riding into the west give a sense of the end of the day coming soon.

Old bike, old rider, new adventure…

Elandsrivier Road, and the Valley… I first traveled this road in 1978 on a Yamaha DT360.

I remember a film from my youth… “How Green Was My Valley…”

On the other side of the Cockscomb, lay the plains of the Steytlerville area. Criss-crossed by roads that vary from twee-spoor to gravel highways. In the dusk of the dying day, this was going to be fun.

Lots of construction work going on… some of the Elandsrivier Road is in an excellent state for vehicles, and lots of it is in an excellent state for an Adventure Bike…! 

And so I came to Antoniesberg Pass, through Groot Rivier Poort, where I saw the evidence of the Canines’ Shenanigans earlier in the day.

Always a treat descending this pass into the Poort. It heralds the passing of what’s behind and the advent of what’s to come.

I had met up with a pair of farmer chaps in their bakkie who opened the gate for me just after the river, which, happily, posed no problem. I duly closed said gate and followed them up the other side. They waved me through, and I did not see them again. The sun had now dropped below the horizon, and a sunset of note was due in an hour or so…

My new spots came into their own pretty soon, and I realized that I should have blanked off the outer edge of the glass lenses, which were affecting my night vision. I would do this in due course, but was a bit lazy to dig in my stuff for black tape.

The promised sunset was just as expected. A sense of well being and peace descended over me as the land went to sleep.

My lights were really performing their magic, in spite of the back glow. I was really glad that I had fitted them. A few adjustments were needed to ideally light up the road. I like to train my spots on the edges of then road, to better pick out animal eyes, or the shape of a buck. I saw a beautiful specimen of a kudu, resplendent with his white stripes on his shoulders and about 2 turns of horn. No chance of a photo. He was gone in a few moments.

So, I duly arrived at the Bash, to be greeted by some friends I had met last year. This always makes me feel good – meeting up again. The fire was pretty welcoming too.

Things were starting to rev up…

Watty called me to see the magnificent scene at the dam..

Saturday morning saw the Metal Jockeys enjoying breakfast together.

No sign of rain yet… still a fair, but cloudy, morning…

The hub of the proceedings, where much shelter was later to be sought.

Trail Rider, Crossed-up and Rovrat – not sure what mischief they were planning!

Looking very … er, um… pensive…?

Waiting for the bus…, Bus..?

Last night’s dam, in the morning.

Let’s Go Fishing…. What kind of tribal dance is that?

Standing around, talking, chilling…

Campfires here and there, to ward off the chill, and as it turned out, to dry out sleeping bags and clothes..!

LGF ready to depart on the technical ride, I believe…

Me, admiring my Horse…

It started to rain, and the manne started to … er… attend to the matter of thirst-quenching.. TR, Oetie, and Michnus warming his ass.

“I tell you, man, it was this big…”

Bus looking for bubbles, while Jacko explains one of life’s mysteries.

It rained a bit…

And hailed a bit too…

Don’t quite know what mission Paddler was on…that is NOT white gold he’s holding.

ChrisL and Amanda contemplating the morning and the weather…

Paddler looking for a screw…. An M8 x 60, to be precise.

And then it was the evening and the morning of the first day… night time brought the dawgs home and the barman was kept busy.

“I tell, you, Boet… he went THAT way..!” Andy telling a story…

Very gesellige fire was kept going most of the night. Plenty of firewood had been collected.

Aaaaaahhhhhh! What any self-respecting carnivore really looks forward to.

MrBig, and me.

Lucky draw/prize-giving. Good job, Watty, getting through that lot with those dawgs in that state.. Eish!

Carnivore · Jun 20, 2009

Sunday morning dawned… a beautiful, sunny, crisp morning full of promise and many kilometers to come. I fell within 5m of my parking spot, as the clay claimed another unwary victim. Having said my goodbyes, and washed off the offending orange mud, I set off on my Lonesome Tour to Stutterheim, where I intended to stay that night, at Eagle’s Ridge Mountain Lodge. I have become friends with Alan and Hester Steyn, and will recommend their place for a laid back, art-deco type accommodation.

I took some photos of the dam, with the sun-kissed Baviaans Mountains in the distance.

The White Stallion was ready, and so was I. On a morning like this, it is sooooooo good to be alive.

I filled up in Steytlerville, and stopped in at the Royal to say hullo to Ouma. After a cup of coffee, I fired up the Stallion and took the road north. I turned left and went through Noorspoort. I remember seeing these twisted rocks on a previous ride, and vowed to pass this way again.

And so the roads unfolded before me. Again.. what a glorious morning.

Rode a bit of tar.. and then took the turnoff to Kliplaat, about 27 km from Steytlerville. Windpompe along the road are like monuments to the timelessness of the Karoo. They have seen many things and stand sometimes silent, and sometimes creaking, and sometimes vehemently protesting at the ravaging elements that will one day bring about their demise. But for today, this one was silent.

Mountains, veld and sky. And me.

And so I turn onto a little track, which leads to Jansenville.

Some go by train, other travel on two wheels. Often, as you travel into unknown areas, you have to cross the line…

These are nice roads… the bush is fine and the road is varied and it twists and winds its way through farms and wilderness…

… and I wonder what happened to the people who farmed this rugged land… where did they go, what happened to their children…?

But we go onwards to…. Jansenville, which is on the R75 south of Graaff-Reinet.

I met up with Howard and Thelena, on a 1300 Beemer. Nice couple. We chatted and shared some stories – I will visit them in PE. I had some toasted bacon and egg sarmies and a coke, and set off on my intended route, to discover a locked gate where there used to be a road. From then on, until Somerset East, my route planning had to be adjusted on my GPS and I ended up deviating significantly from my plan. No matter – I settled into the ride and just enjoyed the farms roads, tracks and cattle grids, washed out drifts were everywhere. The whole land had received some rain, and everything looked clean and crisp. I wish I had taken more pictures, but I get so absorbed, that I forget and many km go by with no pictures…

I come across this sour note - a testimony to the assh… that still remain with us from a bygone era.

Turn left, onto the R400. This is a major gravel highway that runs E-W across the East Cape.

It is fast… yes, quite fast… in places… but there are some dips and bends.

This is the LIFE, man!

These roads seem to go on forever, in places.

Well, I soon come to the end of the gravel for a while, and emerge onto the tarred road from Pearston to Somerset East.

The Town Hall – grand, but decaying…

Gill College.

Riding towards the N10 to Cookhouse, The sun is beginning to dip towards the mountains, as the afternoon progresses. I know that I will be riding at night again. The question is…. Where?

I reach the area called Golden Valley, which is near Cookhouse. I will cross the N10 and carry on to Bedford.

… and the road becomes dirt again, as I pass by the farmsteads and the sheds and the kraals.

The shadows get longer, as I open and close another gate.

Eventually, I reach Adelaide, and pass through onto the road which takes me into the Post Retief Conservancy. I sign the clipboard, and chat a while with the gate-keeper. I stop above the Kaalhoek Dam to balance the nett water intake though my system…. (!) and wave to a Pajero driver who enquires after my well-being. Yes, Sir, thank you, I am just fine. Yes, indeed… just fine. Me and my bike, and this beautiful rugged land.

Up on the ridge, I look back,,,

I have come a long way, and I am not tired. In fact, I am elated and expectant for a challenge that I know awaits me, but which I had not though I would do in the dark. In fact, when going through Adelaide, I contemplated just tarring it to Fort Beaufort and then on to Keiskammashoek and Stutterheim via Gubu Dam and the forest. But that was the easy way…

I have been trying to get to Mitchell’s Pass for about 5 rides now, and each time I have had to give it a miss, for various reasons, usually time and deadline based.

So, tonight, I will ride Mitchell’s Pass. My friend Jock, who lives in East London, is horrified when I phone him to check on his movements – he is on his way back, in the morning, from Coffee Bay in the Transkei, to meet me some where near Stutterheim. I tell him that I am committed, I have no time now to turn around…

So on we go, my Horse and I, into the gathering dark, towards Balfour and Seymour.

The last rays of the sun are gilding the tops of the mountains. There is a sense of rest descending on the land, when the folk return to their homes and the animals settle down for the night. But there is also a sense of excitement, for the remaining journey tonight.

As I get into the little settlement of Balfour, I pass a Pastor on his way home. Here is the old NG Kerk… maybe it is no longer a NG Kerk… these places are becoming… derelict and abandoned.

I reach the tarred road to Seymour and travel at a good lick to what used to be a quaint little town. From what I can see, almost everything is broken. Why, oh why, I think… not wanting the obvious answer to ruin my mood.

I pick up the signboard that says “Hogsback 20 km Mountain Track. Only 4x4’s and bakkies.”

Well, what am I? A 2x1..? Here we go..!

My lights are brilliant, and I travel easy and at a comfortable pace, because here is no assistance if I should come unstuck. Discretion is the better part of valour, and I am under no time burden. After all,…. I have lights…! And I am on schedule to reach Eagle’s Ridge by 20h30 or so.

So… I pass over a rough patch… and a little further, some rather bad rutted inclines. And then… I reach the place I had read so much about, and in the lights, it stands ominously before me like a malevolent monster from an enchanted forest. Of course, I forgot to take a photo… so I have borrowed a picture from the forum and made it a negative just for some effect. I believe that it is not really that daunting, but at night, it certainly gave me a bit of a skrik!

]

And… I had not set my GPS to record my track either. So I cannot prove to you that I got up and over that hurdle. But I did… and I rode down into Hogsback feeling oh so chuffed!

Well, I decided that I had about 80km fuel range left, and I could not remember how far my intended route was, down the Wolf River trail, and then up to Stutterheim via Gubu Dam. So, I set off down the Hogsback pass, and hung a left for King Williams Town, where I filled up. Stutterheim lay another 40km ahead, and the road flew beneath my wheels. I arrived at my destination at 20h20, and was shown to my bungalow. Then Alan and I chatted and I chowed and we had some more lekker filter coffee… I was in bed just before midnight.

Monday was a slow day. Said my Goodbyes around 1 pm…

I received some GPS cords from Jock, and was instructed to find him up there in some fields somewhere, which I did. Of course, he chortled with glee as I pulled up with lights blazing!

One great big Cyclops – seems that I should at least be visible to other traffic, hey?

Off to East London where I stayed over with my friend. He jumped onto the F650GS because the Hippo had no clutch left after the Transkei trip. On Monday night, we prevailed upon a friend of Jock’s, who was selling his XT660R, to let me test ride the beast. Coincidentally, Jock’s F650GS developed a flat – so we left the red pony at Johan’s place, and went touring. There are some really lekker roads around EL…

Tuesday saw breakfast at Lavender Blue on the Old Transkei Road, and then some playing around on a rather nice network of tracks above Beacon Bay. The XT needed some sand-time, and our session in the sand quarry convinced Jock to buy the bike.

Gonubie in the distance, sand in the foreground.

My friend Jock, since 1975… Beacon Bay in the background.

And so my EC Bash and Beyond ride drew to a close. After this final shot…

…I packed up and left for Port Alfred to see my Brother in law and family. The wind started pumping, as it always seems to do when I travel the 300km between EL and PE, and by 5pm, I was ready for hot coffee and pizza. I left PA at 19h20 and after tweaking the spots a bit, I rode home along the coastal R72 and the N2, arriving home at 21h40.

Brilliant Bash, Watty…. Many thanks.