N
NoTar
Guest
On the 12th of November it will be one year. One year of marriage. It was off to a rocky start.
Iâ??ll wear a tie, if we go on honeymoon with my bike, I said. That was it then, we were going on honeymoon with the bike.
My BMW F650 Dakar was 6 months old. I was commuting 100km a day with it between Strand and Bloubergstrand. On the odd weekend I would do some off-road, but Dakar had never seen serious dirt yet, and I reckoned that this was a perfect opportunity to fix that.
We had the wedding on a guest farm outside Sir Lowryâ??s Village on the foot of the pass. It was lovely. We left for Stellenbosch that evening, tin cans in tow. I could see all the family and friends in the mirrors. My friends with expressions of: Die lucky bliks%^&. My wifeâ??s family with more concern. Me, I had a maâ??se smile on my face!!
At 07:00 the next morning we had breakfast. I tied the last of the baggage to Dakar. The bags were brand new. Tank bag and Top bag. Nice and compact. We took off!
N1 over du Toits (Never pay Toll. My other motto!) Through the mountains of the Hex River Valley and soon we made the turn off on the R46 to Ceres just before Touws River. The Dakar was happy. We were doing 140 on the speedo, 129 on the GPS. With a full tank and a combined load of 360kg I never had to change out of fifth gear.
Turning left on the R46, then right onto the R355 we hit dirt. I was smiling. I love gravel roads. I love seeing new places, and Dakar was purring allong nicely. It was dry and hot, the dust making a cloud in my mirrors.
After 100km on the gravel we stopped for our first water break. We drank some water, I looked over the bike. Everything was still attached, and we moved off again.
The road became worse with every passing kilometre. It was being scraped, and thick sand shoulders were broken by sharp stones. I slowed down, not wanting to loose it with my wife on the back. Suddenly the rear wheal gave a jig. I knew from previous experience that this could only mean one thing. I had a flat.
I pulled to the side of the road and stopped. My wife of less than 24 hours asked, whatâ??s wrong. I didnâ??t want to tell her. We were 110km from Calvinia, on a landscape resembling Mars. I had a flat. I had little tools. No extra tube and a 4cm cut in my rear tyre. Even BMW-On-Call needs a phone call to respond. There was no cell phone signal. We had a litre of water. I couldnâ??t see any farm houses. It was 36 degrees. We were fuc@#%.
Too be continued...
Iâ??ll wear a tie, if we go on honeymoon with my bike, I said. That was it then, we were going on honeymoon with the bike.
My BMW F650 Dakar was 6 months old. I was commuting 100km a day with it between Strand and Bloubergstrand. On the odd weekend I would do some off-road, but Dakar had never seen serious dirt yet, and I reckoned that this was a perfect opportunity to fix that.
We had the wedding on a guest farm outside Sir Lowryâ??s Village on the foot of the pass. It was lovely. We left for Stellenbosch that evening, tin cans in tow. I could see all the family and friends in the mirrors. My friends with expressions of: Die lucky bliks%^&. My wifeâ??s family with more concern. Me, I had a maâ??se smile on my face!!
At 07:00 the next morning we had breakfast. I tied the last of the baggage to Dakar. The bags were brand new. Tank bag and Top bag. Nice and compact. We took off!
N1 over du Toits (Never pay Toll. My other motto!) Through the mountains of the Hex River Valley and soon we made the turn off on the R46 to Ceres just before Touws River. The Dakar was happy. We were doing 140 on the speedo, 129 on the GPS. With a full tank and a combined load of 360kg I never had to change out of fifth gear.
Turning left on the R46, then right onto the R355 we hit dirt. I was smiling. I love gravel roads. I love seeing new places, and Dakar was purring allong nicely. It was dry and hot, the dust making a cloud in my mirrors.
After 100km on the gravel we stopped for our first water break. We drank some water, I looked over the bike. Everything was still attached, and we moved off again.
The road became worse with every passing kilometre. It was being scraped, and thick sand shoulders were broken by sharp stones. I slowed down, not wanting to loose it with my wife on the back. Suddenly the rear wheal gave a jig. I knew from previous experience that this could only mean one thing. I had a flat.
I pulled to the side of the road and stopped. My wife of less than 24 hours asked, whatâ??s wrong. I didnâ??t want to tell her. We were 110km from Calvinia, on a landscape resembling Mars. I had a flat. I had little tools. No extra tube and a 4cm cut in my rear tyre. Even BMW-On-Call needs a phone call to respond. There was no cell phone signal. We had a litre of water. I couldnâ??t see any farm houses. It was 36 degrees. We were fuc@#%.
Too be continued...
