Feeding the Starving Adventure Bug
- Thread starter willeh0nd
- Start date
DirtyTeNeReLess
Bachelor Dog
:sip: subscribe! great bike!
Feeding the Starving Adventure Bug (Part 2)
Friday, 27 December: Hartenbos to Die Swartberg Nagrit (339 km)
Both the Zontes and I had a great and well deserved rest day. The view below is what we woke up to every morning. Usually you have to pay for something like this. And all of this while sleeping on top of a Land Cruiser nogal. Jokes aside, this holiday really made me appreciate family. Doing solo missions have their benefits and disadvantages, and you learn to appreciate close family and friends on trips. Being able to just rock up at family and them offering accommodation to you for as long as you like just gives a different meaning to life altogether.
But the show must go on... Thinking back to our Tankwa adventure I recall the other adventure rider mentioning that there is an annual event on the 27th of December where a group of bikers get together and ride over the Swartberg pass... in the night. That’s a road I know all too well. Leading up to Die Hel, the Swarberg pass is also a stunning road to take. But I’ve never attempted it at night. Hell, I once drove to Ladismith on the R62 at night and promised myself unless there was a really, really, good reason to drive during the night in the Karoo, I wouldn’t do so. And now there was...
After a bit of research I determine everyone is meeting up in De Rust and setting off at 21.30pm. They ride over the pass, into Prins Albert, and then have a midnight braai in Meiringspoort. Where do I sign?
So late afternoon we get going on another highlight of an unplanned adventure. But not before we were tasked with getting a lost, 3 year-old, girl safely home. We found her wandering in the parking lot all on her own. Turns out she just went walking off. We managed to locate her parents after about 15 minutes. That girl is going to ride an adventure bike one day, I think to myself. Or she has just been watching too much Dora the Explorer.
We reach George later that afternoon and I decide that the time has come to search for our adventure mascot. Enter the adventure bearbug. The Green Manalishi is back! I got some weird looks tying him down on the Zontes, but then again I guess it’s not every day you see a guy looking like a Power Ranger, tying down a massive luminous green bear to a luminous orange motorcycle. Haters gonna hate.
With Mr. Bear’s flailing arms and legs in the wind we make our way to De Rust.
Here we meet people from all over the world. Likeminded folks. Ah this is great! More family! 71 bikes about to tackle the Swartberge at night. This was such an invaluable and special experience. And we each donated funds to the current drought in the Karoo, collecting a good amount of money towards the cause.
After a good dinner, driver briefing and some laughs we all hit the road. It’s probably the highest level of decibels heard in De Rust during the year. I mean, we’re not riding Harley’s, but 71 adventure bikes and even more riders make a ruckus. The bikes themselves not so much...
Now picture this: there’s not a breath of wind or a cloud in the sky and the Karoo is quiet. Mix that with 71 bikes and you find yourself in a thundering dust storm. Never in my life have I been covered in that amount of dust, and boy were we having fun! Stofdonkies at their best. But just as the going got lekker I heard a massive crack at the back of the Zontes. I pulled off to the side of the road only to discover the entire hugger on the back wheel got ripped off and was only hanging by the electrical wiring! Luckily the spirit of adventure riders came forward here and within seconds I was surrounded by people helping out. We quickly just cut the wire and I stored the unit, along with the number plate in the top box.
Crossing the Swartberg pass we reach the turnoff to Die Hel. The Coddiwomple shivers with excitement as he smells his little brother’s tracks that led into Die Hel. “Nie nou nie seuna! Ons kan ‘n ander dag daar inry.” Reluctantly the Zontes soldiers on, creeping down the mountain pass.
We all reach Prins Albert in the middle of the night where we take a group photo and head out to Meiringspoort for a braai. You know, this is living! I think back home to where all my friends and family are now fast asleep. Yet here I am having an absolute gem of a time in nature! I wish I could scream back home ‘Wake Up!’ There is much to be seen and even more to experience.
After a bit of social in Meiringspoort, people started leaving one by one and then in groups. With still plenty of riders around, it started dawning on me. It’s the middle of the night, around 3am, and I don’t have accommodation... haha! I eventually decide to leave the party too and make my way, uhm, wherever?
So after arriving back at De Rust and with the town fast asleep I consider my options. Sleep next to the side of the road or go to Oudtshoorn and see if there is a hotel open. Yeah let’s do that. I think I’m going to have a rough 48 recovery hours coming my way.
Back in Oudtshoorn all I can find are some rabbits running around on the outskirts of town. And some kind gentlemen dropping off ladies in the main road. I didn’t know what looked more conspicuous: a guy covered in dust with no number plate and a green bear on the bike, driving up and down the main road, or cars stopping in the main road and dropping off their companionship? But hey, maybe I can get arrested and at least have a place to sleep for the night.
I eventually find shelter at an Engen garage, the only thing that’s open for business, apart from the ladies, that time of night. The guys at the Engen are welcoming and I tell them I just need to rest a bit. With that I discover one of the most comfortable sleeping positions ever. Or maybe I was just delusional from being sleep deprived. Either way, with my back resting on the adventure bear, who is rest against the top box, I put my feet on the crash bars, and just like that I was out.
Saturday, 28 December: Oudtshoorn to George (65 km)
I awoke with the smell of petrol in the air. It’s 6am and I’ve probably had an hour and a half of sleep. All I want is a shower and a bed. Or I’ll settle for a river and a lawn. I’m still covered in dust and I’m getting even weirder looks, but my happiness factor is red lining. Maybe I’m just high on petrol fumes from the night.
After establishing that Oudtshoorn has zero accommodation available, I turn to the equally tired and not-so-orange-Zontes. We’re going to George! There’s bound to be a bed there somewhere. I don’t recall much of the ride back to George. We stopped at the top of the Montagu pass where I sat to rest a bit. Another traveller stopped next to me and he asked: “Is jy ok?” Yep, I think the lack of sleep was now written clearly on my forehead.
We reach George around lunch and find a camping terrain with 4 sites still available. That’ll do. I’ll sort out bills and food later. I just need sleep. We quickly put the tent up and nearly pass out before even making it into the tent. I wake up later that evening around 7pm and went for a shower. I. AM. HUMAN. AGAIN!
We are located a couple of kilometres from the mall and I figure I should probably get a decent dinner in me, and why not watch a movie while I’m there? So I buy a ticket to go watch Cats, but all I can remember from the movie was waking up when the end credits started playing. Bliksem boys, this adventure is getting to me. I walk back to the tent and again immediately fall asleep. I can’t remember when last I slept this well.
Sunday, 29 December: George to Cape Town (460 km)
It’s been a long trip and I’ve experienced some crazy things I never thought I would encounter without really planning it. And here I was camping in George, 5am on a Sunday morning, in a tent, and the unmistakable sound of a lion’s roar wakes me up.
It’s like the universe knows me. The adventure bearbug strikes again! But waking up in the middle of George and hearing a lion’s roar, and being half asleep, your brain desperately tries to rationalise the sound. And so I think it’s impossible, I must be dreaming, and I fall asleep again. Then it happens again. I check my watch, 6am. This time it’s much louder. I sit up straight with the hair on my body standing up straight as well. Surely it’s not possible? This continues for another 10 minutes during which I was hardly breathing, more out of excitement than fear. If I was still tired, the lion made sure that is something of the past, giving me a shot of adrenaline that will wake an elephant up from the dead.
Eventually I stumble out of my tent and rub the sleep from my eyes. A fat adventure bear proudly sits on the coddiwompled Zontes. His eyes are the size of bowling balls, but he’s got a massive adventure smile on his face. He looks at me and says “There was a damn lion outside the tent and you just left me here! Pack our bags, we’re going home. I’m stuffed.” I later found out there is a lion park next to the camping terrain where I slept. Some reconnaissance beforehand would have helped.
Dark thunderclouds are gathering on the horizon and I marvel at how reminiscent this trip is of my previous adventure. On my last day the dark clouds also gathered and unleashed a torrential rainstorm on our way back. I look at the dusty Zontes. “You’re getting a bath my boy!”
With all our belongings packed up, the 312 lion-powered Zontes engine roars to life. Somewhere close by I think a lion just got the fright of his life. This has been an adventure of sorts, but all good things eventually come to an end. And with the lyrics of Bat Out Of Hell chasing us down the N2 and the rain giving us a much needed bath, we cruise home. “Well I can see myself tearing up the road, faster than any other boy has ever gone. And my skin is raw, but my soul is ripe, and no one's gonna stop me now.”
Route map (leg 2):
Side Notes and Thanks:
In closing I just need to mention this. Never have I ever been questioned so many times about what bike this is I am driving, where do they come from, are they any good, and was I requested to give demonstrations of all the technology the crazed Zontes has to offer. Not that I mind one bit, but take it from me: driving this bike has given my adventure bearbug the biggest Christmas meal he has ever had. I should be satisfied and well fed for the next couple of months.
A big thanks to Wayne and Sean from Bike Brothers there by N1 City: for always being willing and ready to help out when needed, and making sure the flaming Zontes always spits fire and is ready for any adventure that gets thrown his way! You guys are awesome!
Lastly, you, reading this. Isn’t it about time you fed your adventure bug again?
Friday, 27 December: Hartenbos to Die Swartberg Nagrit (339 km)
Both the Zontes and I had a great and well deserved rest day. The view below is what we woke up to every morning. Usually you have to pay for something like this. And all of this while sleeping on top of a Land Cruiser nogal. Jokes aside, this holiday really made me appreciate family. Doing solo missions have their benefits and disadvantages, and you learn to appreciate close family and friends on trips. Being able to just rock up at family and them offering accommodation to you for as long as you like just gives a different meaning to life altogether.
But the show must go on... Thinking back to our Tankwa adventure I recall the other adventure rider mentioning that there is an annual event on the 27th of December where a group of bikers get together and ride over the Swartberg pass... in the night. That’s a road I know all too well. Leading up to Die Hel, the Swarberg pass is also a stunning road to take. But I’ve never attempted it at night. Hell, I once drove to Ladismith on the R62 at night and promised myself unless there was a really, really, good reason to drive during the night in the Karoo, I wouldn’t do so. And now there was...
After a bit of research I determine everyone is meeting up in De Rust and setting off at 21.30pm. They ride over the pass, into Prins Albert, and then have a midnight braai in Meiringspoort. Where do I sign?
So late afternoon we get going on another highlight of an unplanned adventure. But not before we were tasked with getting a lost, 3 year-old, girl safely home. We found her wandering in the parking lot all on her own. Turns out she just went walking off. We managed to locate her parents after about 15 minutes. That girl is going to ride an adventure bike one day, I think to myself. Or she has just been watching too much Dora the Explorer.
We reach George later that afternoon and I decide that the time has come to search for our adventure mascot. Enter the adventure bearbug. The Green Manalishi is back! I got some weird looks tying him down on the Zontes, but then again I guess it’s not every day you see a guy looking like a Power Ranger, tying down a massive luminous green bear to a luminous orange motorcycle. Haters gonna hate.
With Mr. Bear’s flailing arms and legs in the wind we make our way to De Rust.
Here we meet people from all over the world. Likeminded folks. Ah this is great! More family! 71 bikes about to tackle the Swartberge at night. This was such an invaluable and special experience. And we each donated funds to the current drought in the Karoo, collecting a good amount of money towards the cause.
After a good dinner, driver briefing and some laughs we all hit the road. It’s probably the highest level of decibels heard in De Rust during the year. I mean, we’re not riding Harley’s, but 71 adventure bikes and even more riders make a ruckus. The bikes themselves not so much...
Now picture this: there’s not a breath of wind or a cloud in the sky and the Karoo is quiet. Mix that with 71 bikes and you find yourself in a thundering dust storm. Never in my life have I been covered in that amount of dust, and boy were we having fun! Stofdonkies at their best. But just as the going got lekker I heard a massive crack at the back of the Zontes. I pulled off to the side of the road only to discover the entire hugger on the back wheel got ripped off and was only hanging by the electrical wiring! Luckily the spirit of adventure riders came forward here and within seconds I was surrounded by people helping out. We quickly just cut the wire and I stored the unit, along with the number plate in the top box.
Crossing the Swartberg pass we reach the turnoff to Die Hel. The Coddiwomple shivers with excitement as he smells his little brother’s tracks that led into Die Hel. “Nie nou nie seuna! Ons kan ‘n ander dag daar inry.” Reluctantly the Zontes soldiers on, creeping down the mountain pass.
We all reach Prins Albert in the middle of the night where we take a group photo and head out to Meiringspoort for a braai. You know, this is living! I think back home to where all my friends and family are now fast asleep. Yet here I am having an absolute gem of a time in nature! I wish I could scream back home ‘Wake Up!’ There is much to be seen and even more to experience.
After a bit of social in Meiringspoort, people started leaving one by one and then in groups. With still plenty of riders around, it started dawning on me. It’s the middle of the night, around 3am, and I don’t have accommodation... haha! I eventually decide to leave the party too and make my way, uhm, wherever?
So after arriving back at De Rust and with the town fast asleep I consider my options. Sleep next to the side of the road or go to Oudtshoorn and see if there is a hotel open. Yeah let’s do that. I think I’m going to have a rough 48 recovery hours coming my way.
Back in Oudtshoorn all I can find are some rabbits running around on the outskirts of town. And some kind gentlemen dropping off ladies in the main road. I didn’t know what looked more conspicuous: a guy covered in dust with no number plate and a green bear on the bike, driving up and down the main road, or cars stopping in the main road and dropping off their companionship? But hey, maybe I can get arrested and at least have a place to sleep for the night.
I eventually find shelter at an Engen garage, the only thing that’s open for business, apart from the ladies, that time of night. The guys at the Engen are welcoming and I tell them I just need to rest a bit. With that I discover one of the most comfortable sleeping positions ever. Or maybe I was just delusional from being sleep deprived. Either way, with my back resting on the adventure bear, who is rest against the top box, I put my feet on the crash bars, and just like that I was out.
Saturday, 28 December: Oudtshoorn to George (65 km)
I awoke with the smell of petrol in the air. It’s 6am and I’ve probably had an hour and a half of sleep. All I want is a shower and a bed. Or I’ll settle for a river and a lawn. I’m still covered in dust and I’m getting even weirder looks, but my happiness factor is red lining. Maybe I’m just high on petrol fumes from the night.
After establishing that Oudtshoorn has zero accommodation available, I turn to the equally tired and not-so-orange-Zontes. We’re going to George! There’s bound to be a bed there somewhere. I don’t recall much of the ride back to George. We stopped at the top of the Montagu pass where I sat to rest a bit. Another traveller stopped next to me and he asked: “Is jy ok?” Yep, I think the lack of sleep was now written clearly on my forehead.
We reach George around lunch and find a camping terrain with 4 sites still available. That’ll do. I’ll sort out bills and food later. I just need sleep. We quickly put the tent up and nearly pass out before even making it into the tent. I wake up later that evening around 7pm and went for a shower. I. AM. HUMAN. AGAIN!
We are located a couple of kilometres from the mall and I figure I should probably get a decent dinner in me, and why not watch a movie while I’m there? So I buy a ticket to go watch Cats, but all I can remember from the movie was waking up when the end credits started playing. Bliksem boys, this adventure is getting to me. I walk back to the tent and again immediately fall asleep. I can’t remember when last I slept this well.
Sunday, 29 December: George to Cape Town (460 km)
It’s been a long trip and I’ve experienced some crazy things I never thought I would encounter without really planning it. And here I was camping in George, 5am on a Sunday morning, in a tent, and the unmistakable sound of a lion’s roar wakes me up.
It’s like the universe knows me. The adventure bearbug strikes again! But waking up in the middle of George and hearing a lion’s roar, and being half asleep, your brain desperately tries to rationalise the sound. And so I think it’s impossible, I must be dreaming, and I fall asleep again. Then it happens again. I check my watch, 6am. This time it’s much louder. I sit up straight with the hair on my body standing up straight as well. Surely it’s not possible? This continues for another 10 minutes during which I was hardly breathing, more out of excitement than fear. If I was still tired, the lion made sure that is something of the past, giving me a shot of adrenaline that will wake an elephant up from the dead.
Eventually I stumble out of my tent and rub the sleep from my eyes. A fat adventure bear proudly sits on the coddiwompled Zontes. His eyes are the size of bowling balls, but he’s got a massive adventure smile on his face. He looks at me and says “There was a damn lion outside the tent and you just left me here! Pack our bags, we’re going home. I’m stuffed.” I later found out there is a lion park next to the camping terrain where I slept. Some reconnaissance beforehand would have helped.
Dark thunderclouds are gathering on the horizon and I marvel at how reminiscent this trip is of my previous adventure. On my last day the dark clouds also gathered and unleashed a torrential rainstorm on our way back. I look at the dusty Zontes. “You’re getting a bath my boy!”
With all our belongings packed up, the 312 lion-powered Zontes engine roars to life. Somewhere close by I think a lion just got the fright of his life. This has been an adventure of sorts, but all good things eventually come to an end. And with the lyrics of Bat Out Of Hell chasing us down the N2 and the rain giving us a much needed bath, we cruise home. “Well I can see myself tearing up the road, faster than any other boy has ever gone. And my skin is raw, but my soul is ripe, and no one's gonna stop me now.”
Route map (leg 2):
Side Notes and Thanks:
In closing I just need to mention this. Never have I ever been questioned so many times about what bike this is I am driving, where do they come from, are they any good, and was I requested to give demonstrations of all the technology the crazed Zontes has to offer. Not that I mind one bit, but take it from me: driving this bike has given my adventure bearbug the biggest Christmas meal he has ever had. I should be satisfied and well fed for the next couple of months.
A big thanks to Wayne and Sean from Bike Brothers there by N1 City: for always being willing and ready to help out when needed, and making sure the flaming Zontes always spits fire and is ready for any adventure that gets thrown his way! You guys are awesome!
Lastly, you, reading this. Isn’t it about time you fed your adventure bug again?
blockheadxl650v
Race Dog
Thanks again for a very entertaining ride report. After reading the first part of your RR actually went to a bike shop in Bellville to check out these Zonteses and they look pretty good. I was impressed.
Plaasseun
Pack Dog
Awesome well done :thumleft:
Matewis
Race Dog
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Riding Swartberg at night! Epic and has given me a idea or 6. Thanks for sharing!
Charel
Puppy
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Great RR, thank you so much for sharing.
IceCreamMan
Grey Hound
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Lekker report, thanks for posting. :thumleft:
BradleyT
Race Dog
Really enjoyed your ride report. Your writing style is great :thumleft:
Dankie, ek het lekker saamgery! :ricky:
Jis!!!
Naaaicee!
Dankie viri die deel
Naaaicee!
Dankie viri die deel
XXL
Race Dog
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Nice report. Are the brackets for the luggage boxes available off the shelf or did you make them (sorry if the answer is in the report, then I missed it). They look good
Thanks for sharing
Thanks for sharing
