GAGSC 2008 ... my experience

[Colyn]

Let me make this very clear right at the beginning ... this is my personal view, experiences and perceptions. It is how I saw it and how different facets of the greater experience were presented to me. My record of the event is purely for entertainment and maybe there are some pieces of information that can be of value to some of the readers.

Now that the heavy stuff is out of the way I can begin to tell my story.

Since I bought my first BMW, a 2005 K1200GT, I have been constantly made aware of the GS Challenge and the romantic threads woven around this experience. Many told me flatly that I can never really say that I am a biker if I do not have a GS and did not do the GS Challenge. Well, me being a fairly hard nosed old coot, shrugged my shoulders and often silently muttered ...

"WTF ... sleeping on the ground and eating dust for 4 days is not my idea of great fun."

However the future is not for us to see and more by chance than by desire I became the owner of a R1200GS during July 2008.

Needless to say that immediately after this the voices started to rain down on me ... "Go to the Challenge !" Some were whispered some were shouted and some were even accusing. I turned a deaf ear to most because deep inside my years of experience with motor bikes warned me that I have to make sure that I am capable of meeting the obstacles at the Challenge or it will be a nightmare and not a dream.

Let me say this ... I am not per se scared of a fall but my common sense tells me that if I should have a bad fall at my age it could be something that I will carry with me for the rest of my life or even be the reason for a sudden shortening of my life. My one son and my brother's son are both competent off road riders and from what I have seen of their antics in the dirt I instinctively knew that it was far from what I would call fun.

My friend and business partner was the one that convinced me back in 2005 to start riding again and he was also the one that influenced me to eventually buy the GS. Naturally he was also the one with the most persistent voice that I should go to the Challenge.

Without boring you with the long story it so happened that I committed to going to the 2008 GAGSC on the Monday before the event. Needless to say that it was a busy Tuesday for me to get the camping gear together. Fortunately I have prepared my bike properly during the days since I got it and I was confident that I had a decent machine for the task ... that is my opinion again.

The one thing I did not have and I was told it was vitally important to have, was a GPS. I buckled before the pressure and bought a Zumo on Tuesday afternoon and Roan fitted it. Next I downloaded the Day routes and imported them into the Zumo ... now I was set and geared ... or so I thought but more about this error in reasoning later.

Hentie from Bethlehem and a friend was destined to sleep over at Roan's place on Tuesday night and we decided to have a little going away BBQ that evening.

NB ... all images have been processed to fit the mood of the journal.

Roan entertaining us with a story of one of his off road experiences.

Highly satisfied with the impact his story made ...

The women were not as enthusiastic as the men about the trip.​

It was a great evening and at around 22h00 we said our goodbyes and I headed back to my home. I still had to pack my bike. The packing did not concern me too much because I was alone on the bike and I have more than enough space available.

Wednesday morning early I packed my bike and waited for the others to pitch at my place. The two guys from Bethlehem wanted to see my new koiponds.

Gathering at my home ... full of smiles

Stopping at God's Window for the visitors to see the splendor of the Lowveld

Foto opportunity ...

​

Traveling through the breathtaking Lowveld Escarpment gives one a lot of time to think and a lot of reminders of how lucky we are to be living in such a stunning country. It also allows me a lot of time to think about my life and my goals.

I thought a lot about what lied ahead and I had many doubts. One thing was for sure ... I did not have any plans to fall, I had no desire to compete with anybody and I had nod intention or inclination to damage my bike. All of it very noble thoughts now that I think back on it and the throbbing pain in my knee is a gentle reminder that all our best intentions are not always the way things will go.

Now I need to take a break first ...

 

[BMWPE]

Your ride reports are allways fantastic
And the pics even better
keep it coming ;D
Thanks

 

[ratrap]

Your ride reports are allways fantastic
And the pics even better
keep it coming ;D
Thanks

Indeed!!!  :thumleft:

 

[Stofstreep]

Cool!!!!
Please continue ;D

 

[Zeff Cowboy]

:happy1:

 

[Snafu]

Hey hey, thats enough of a break!

 

[Chunky]

I wounder why there is absolute silence on the net regarding the Challenge ??? ??? I am so glad to see someone reporting back and I am waiting in anticipation....... come on the break is over ot: ot: ot:

 

[Goose]

Blimey - how long a break does one need.... HURRY up


please...........................  :thumleft:

 

[ActionAnt]

Where's the rest of the story???  ???

 

[Brink]

Lyk my die "Gogga" het diep gebyt Colyn >

Hoop die gaan die eerste van baie wees op die R12GS :thumleft:

 

[Colyn]

Thank you all for your kind words ... indeed it was a long break

As I was saying, cruising along the escarpment gives me lots of time to think. One of the things that worried me was the sleeping thing ... at one stage of my life I had to live in tents for almost five years and I am of the opinion that I had my fair share of tent sleeping ... don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it to sleep in a tent but I am full of shit when it comes to setting up a camp and from hard experience I know that it takes a few very vital things to turn a campsite experience into a dream but the lack there of can turn the experience into a nightmare.

Here are some more shots as we approached and then went through the Abel Erasmus pass ...

How magnificent is this scene ... it is pictures like this that makes me ride ...

I had to take this shot to document the absolute stunning level of idiocy that
we encounter on the roads. This driver is totally indifferent to the presence
of a solid white line, blind bend and steep incline. ​

As we went through the tunnel and emerged on the Limpopo side it was almost like riding into an oven. The temperature was 40.5C and this is not a guess ... nope ... my fancy GS has a digital readout that states the temperature ... one of those gimmicks, as many like to call it, that I quite like.

We reached the foot of the mountains and now it was 42 C ... not the best weather for riding with gear on. At the first garage I turned in with the intention of getting something cold to drink while the bike is filled up but to my disgust the establishment was out of power ... EISHKOM !!!!

So we moved on to the next one ... same story but this guy is prepared ... he has a generator but unfortunately the generator can run the electronics but not the actual pumps so it took almost 45 minutes to get our bikes filled up.

There were plenty bikes on the road now.

"Where the f*^k are we !!!"

"Forget the ZUMO ... here are all your answers with compliments of Motorrad."​

Damn ... I forgot to mention it ... the Challenge is hosted at the God forsaken adobe Leydsdorp ... I have never been there but from rumours that I heard I suspect it was just a few run down buildings and a long dust strip that claims to be a town. Personally I have already activated my expectations filter and as the kilometers rolled past I dulled my expectations down to levels that would actually qualify to be referred to as apathy. This may sound very negative but years of moving from one bush camp to another have taught me to expect nothing and then start rejoicing in each and every little aspect that is better than nothing. Little did I know how valuable this attitude is going to be.

 

[funacide]

Keep it coming., sounds good.

 

[Watermat]

Altyd 'n plesier om jou RR te lees.

 

[Colyn]

Let me explain something ... for three years or so I have been bombarded with stories of the GAGSC and songs of praise were sung at each occasion. The level of my indoctrination almost reached a place where it could be considered brainwashing and a violation of my human rights. However I listened and filed all the stories away for future reference. Now here I was ... in the saddle of what is rumored to be one of the finest DS bikes on earth and on my way to what is professed to be the event of the year on the DS Bike calendar. What can I say ... nothing ... I am a rookie and I have to accept that my riding partners are the men with the experience. In the end I should be glad that I am welcome in their presence because the most I can bring to the party is .... hmmmmm ... nothing !!!

So be it and suddenly the the signpost is there ... LEYDSDORP ... with my heart bouncing in my throat which incidentally turned bone dry as the front wheel hit the dirt. O shit ... is all I could mumble as suddenly I was on the gravel ... typical bushveld gravel ... to many it would be a so called Dirt Highway but to me it was plain common dirt with ruts, loose gravel, hard patches and sand spots ... none of which that looked like a good place to land.

I clenched my jaw, focussed on the road tried to settle down. As if the sheer terror of the road surface was not enough I was presented with other riders in front of me that cloaked me in dust and forced me to slow down. Suddenly I felt very much out of synch with my immediate surroundings. I sat behind the bike in front of me for about one kilometre and then decided that I had enough ... a slight twits of the wrist and the big GS very willingly picked it's legs up. There was a soft ring of alarm bells as I crossed the center of the lefthand track but I was too engrossed in getting out of the dust and flying stones to listen and I slipped past the guy.

Now let me explain this ... my gravel experience is so little that it is actually zero and in my adrenaline numbed stupor I did nothing right but by the grace of God the wheels stayed where it should be and I was blissfully unaware of the perilous activities going on behind the handlebars. I overtook a few more bikes and soon I was way ahead and away from the dust. Suddenly there was a rusted tin sheet on a pole with the words ... "MOERSE DRAAI" painted on it ... for those speak English it is translated roughly to "HELL OF A BEND" and my heart froze ... well it must have been my heart that froze because there were icecold threads throughout my body where my veins were supposed to be. Why ... well as I gingerly applied brakes nothing happened. The bend was coming on and I was in the middle of the road doing around 90.

The bike ran into the first ridge and the loose sand made it snake and wobble and I was cursing like a wharf prostitute. I have closed the throttle and instinctively started gearing down ... apparently bot actions were wrong but to my satisfaction I hit the track rut and solid ground 60 ... skinned 30 off the clock and feeling quite relieved. Relief that only lasted for a few seconds because the front wheel was into the next ridge ... repeating the previous unbecoming conduct and I echoed the required string of curses again. How I dont know but I was back into the track rut again with the wheels still under me but now I was in the last track before the edge of the road and I saw that I was now doing 30 and in 3rd gear. Deep inside my terror marinated brain I realised I was doing things wrong but there were no answers or instructions coming forth and still no brakes.

The bend just kept bending and I went into the sandbar on the edge of the road hundred percent sure that I am going to fall myself into a new bloodgroup and would be lucky if they don't admit me into the gynecology ward. As the big bike started doing the samba on that sandbar I saw the runoff area was wide and covered with short grass. Now a childhood spent on training wild horses has taught me that it is better to fall on short grass than on loose stones and I roared like spiked bush pig ... well maybe roar is being too modest ... it was most probably more of a squeal ... be what it may I made noises and rattled that clunky gearbox down to first, lock my not too skinny arms, hit the grass, dropped the clutch and kick that rear brake so hard that I could swear it muttered something obscene in German. It was a hell of a commotion but the next moment I was standing dead still ... feet planted firmly in the ground and everything still right side up.

Slowly my vision cleared, I regained control of my breathing and gingerly let the handle bar escape from death grip. Suddenly Roan stopped next to me ...

"Are you waiting for us ?"

What ensued is not printable but suffice it to say that I had lots to say about the heap of shit that cannot brake. He calmy listened to my tirade and then he spoke ...

"It is printed in the manual that you must switch the ASC and ABS off on dirt roads."

Huh ... damn !!!! ... now I really felt like an asshole. I started the bike and went through the motions to set the stuff in the right modes and took off. Very well informed to stay under 60 and not go higher than 4th gear. Must say, that was good advice.

Here are some shots ... not of the near fall

Later at the camp I would learn that MOERSE DRAAI claimed a number of victims.

The next few kilometers was good riding and then the second incident hit me. An antelope came crashing out of the bush less than 20 meters ahead of me and angled across the road. All I could do was close the throttle ... that slowed the bike down just enough so that I missed the hind quarters of the buck. It happened so fast that I could not even freak out properly and the buck was gone. I just shook my head and carried on.

Eventually we approached the final little incline into the town and to my horror the road was covered in loose stones. The bike started weaving and was well on my way to the edge and down into the gully when Roan's scream penetrated my terror infused brain.

"GO ... GO ... GO !!!!!"

More by luck than by intent I stood up, locked my arms and rolled the throttle open. The back of bike made one more lazy curve through the stones but at least I was now heading back up the hill and not off to the land of badly injured and bruised.

And then I was in the town. Three very close shaves in about 15 kilometers and when doing the maths it spelled trouble for the next day when the route was 250 kilos long.

The venue and all my soggy brain registered was lots of red dust ...​

Now I am going to go to bed ... I am physically exhausted from reliving this first 15 kilometers.

PS ... Yep I know I was stupid to take this trip before I got more dirt experience

 

[funacide]

Hey Colyn

Nice Report so far, keep it coming...

We all learnt the hard way some time or other hehehe

 

[JourneyMan]

Good stuff Colyn.

Pardon me laughing but some of your descriptions bring back exactly the same memories I have when I started out biking again on dirt.  :biggrin:


Keep it coming! 8)

 

[Colyn]

Good stuff Colyn.

Pardon me laughing but some of your descriptions bring back exactly the same memories I have when I started out biking again on dirt.  :biggrin:


Keep it coming! 8)

I would be really sad if you did not laugh ... as I said in the beginning ... this report is rated "E" for Entertainment.

 

[Stofstreep]

It feels as if I was on the bike with you.
Very nice writing style there Colyn!!

 

[Ama ride ride]

Nice write up and pics :thumleft:

That bend took a fair share of pot shots. When we got there a dakar rider was picking himself up after mowing some bushes and ploughing a lekker patch to plant mielies. To make things worse just before and after the bend its good gravel highway. The bend itself is thickish sand.

 

[Kykdaar]

Had a good laugh there Colyn  ;D Enjoying the report  :thumleft: