Infernal Interlude: Crazy Glue Family Ride (December 2020)

[Ri]

Ahhhh... these crazy COVID days... the new normal has arrived.

In between the school holidays and trying to recoup my mental health, I sneak in a Thumper Bash ride in November of 2020. I join the ultraflight band and manage to fall on almost the first turn, which is that nasty steep and loose little hairpin that turns from the ex-plantation road onto Du Toitskloof Pass road.  We are only on that plantation road because I insisted :imaposer:

Thankfully it is my last fall for the ride, and I meet and ride with a bunch of lovely people. I share digs with Odd Dog and Tony the Boney, and couldn't wish for 2 more gentlemanly housemates. The Bash is lovely, as always, and the food is divine; I cherish the small penknife I "win", and the red print on the back of the Bash T-shirt now stains all my riding jackets.

Then December rolls around and any plans for a relaxed, restful, easy holiday disintegrates when my brother sends word that the family rented the Gifberg holiday farm for a week and we are summoned: all their in-laws in one idyllic space. I have just enough leave to comply. The adventure bug bites my sister and she decides she wants the family to ride there from Fraserburg in a motorbike cavalcade, something crazy the family will look back on and laugh about....eventually.

My 2 x DR650s are commandeered, along with my bro-in-law's 2 x DR200s. We'll take turns to ride the bikes (except me) and drive the car with the non-bikers which includes Ouma, packed to the hilt, with the trailer as back-up. The DR200s aren't road legal and one of the teens aren't legit but we'll get around that one way or another.

My sister wants this and my bro-in-law is determined to make it happen for her. True love :love6: or true madness...

Nephew drives home on Friday in my car, towing my trailer with one DR650 on, carpooling my niece and other "koshuisbrakke", to allow time for the Great (Over)Packing. I will ride up on Saturday on my other DR650. On Sunday morning at sparrow's cough we'll hit the dirt on our great family massacre adventure via a route my bro-in-law has been scoping and researching for minutes weeks.

Ri-sistance is futile. I stoically submit, load my bike, and hit the road.

 

[Psycho Porra]

This sounds interesting Ri, oh please do tell us more[emoji41][emoji3]


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

[Wolzac]

:ricky: :thumleft:

 

[Ri]

I decide to follow a route I've long since wanted to do, and my brother-in-law assured me is a lovely ride: the Moordenaarskaroo road from Laingsburg. Time isn't on my side and I slab it on tar all the way to Laingsburg where I fill up before turning towards the Moordenaarskaroo. The heat is brutal, and I'm thankful for my water bladder. I don't stop anywhere for long.

I soon pass a bakkie parked by the side of the road and stop to offer assistance, but they just stopped for a breather and are busy packing up. I carry on but stop around the next bend to divest myself of some layers and make myself more comfortable. The bakkie snores past me and I jump on my bike to overtake it as soon as possible, not wanting to be stuck in its dust trails. Around another bend the bakkie unexpectedly looses speed and veers to the middle of the road, where I had just aimed my bike to overtake it. The reason for the speed loss is soon apparent - a thick sandy river crossing.

I bite the inside of my cheeks and quickly weigh my options, but really there are none. Braking in this thick warm sand is not on. I quickly swerve to the left of the bakkie and accelerate, praying hard and clinging to the handle bars as the bike spurts and weaves over the thick uneven wall of sand to the side of the crossing. It feels like a 100m but it's probably barely 3m and I'm through. As soon as I can, I slow to a stop and flag down the bakkie owners to apologise profusely for overtaking on the left. They laugh it off and wish me the best on my journey. I pull away quickly, and don't see them again.

There are too many gates to open and close on this bleatingly hot day and I soldier on, putting my head down and trying to stay upright. Being on the move brings small comfort, and I unzip as much as possible, but I close my lid to stop the hot searing wind from drying my eyes and mouth. Crows barely lift their heads to watch me pass.

In Sutherland I find one open establishment called Jupiter, off to the side. Apparently this is a WD establishment? I take my time eating 2 packets of crisps - they're not open for food as they're preparing for a function or something - and drinking a cooldrink or two, trying to cool down. Then I tackle the last stretch from Sutherland to Fraserburg along the R355 R356. It is a tyre killer of note, this road, but I pass through without incident. I would've preferred to take the longer but more scenic Rante B road, but the heat persuades me to get to my destination as soon as possible.

Along the way, a bolt from my hand guard slips out and I find my spotlight banging around by its cable. I tuck it onto the instrument cluster and carry on. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Once on the farm, my bro-in-law quickly gives the bike a once over, and we quickly go over the proposed route for the next day. Then it's on to finishing the packing, which I'm fortunately spared as I'm traveling with the minimum, dinner and an early night. Tomorrow is going to be a loooooooong day.

 

[Ri]

Nothing to see here, move along...

 

[windswept]

I decide to follow a route I've long since wanted to do, and my brother-in-law assured me is a lovely ride: the Moordenaarskaroo road from Laingsburg. Time isn't on my side and I slab it on tar all the way to Laingsburg where I fill up before turning towards the Moordenaarskaroo. The heat is brutal, and I'm thankful for my water bladder. I don't stop anywhere for long.

I soon pass a bakkie parked by the side of the road and stop to offer assistance, but they just stopped for a breather and are busy packing up. I carry on but stop around the next bend to divest myself of some layers and make myself more comfortable. The bakkie snores past me and I jump on my bike to overtake it as soon as possible, not wanting to be stuck in its dust trails. Around another bend the bakkie unexpectedly looses speed and veers to the middle of the road, where I had just aimed my bike to overtake it. The reason for the speed loss is soon apparent - a thick sandy river crossing.

I bite the inside of my cheeks and quickly weigh my options, but really there are none. Braking in this thick warm sand is not on. I quickly swerve to the left of the bakkie and accelerate, praying hard and clinging to the handle bars as the bike spurts and weaves over the thick uneven wall of sand to the side of the crossing. It feels like a 100m but it's probably barely 3m and I'm through. As soon as I can, I slow to a stop and flag down the bakkie owners to apologise profusely for overtaking on the left. They laugh it off and wish me the best on my journey. I pull away quickly, and don't see them again.

There are too many gates to open and close on this bleatingly hot day and I soldier on, putting my head down and trying to stay upright. Being on the move brings small comfort, and I unzip as much as possible, but I close my lid to stop the hot searing wind from drying my eyes and mouth. Crows barely lift their heads to watch me pass.

In Sutherland I find one open establishment called Jupiter, off to the side. Apparently this is a WD establishment? I take my time eating 2 packets of crisps - they're not open for food as they're preparing for a function or something - and drinking a cooldrink or two, trying to cool down. Then I tackle the last stretch from Sutherland to Fraserburg along the R355. It is a tyre killer of note, this road, but I pass through without incident. I would've preferred to take the longer but more scenic Rante B road, but the heat persuades me to get to my destination as soon as possible.

Along the way, a bolt from my hand guard slips out and I find my spotlight banging around by its cable. I tuck it onto the instrument cluster and carry on. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Once on the farm, my bro-in-law quickly gives the bike a once over, and we quickly go over the proposed route for the next day. Then it's on to finishing the packing, which I'm fortunately spared as I'm traveling with the minimum, dinner and an early night. Tomorrow is going to be a loooooooong day.

355?

 

[Ri]

I decide to follow a route I've long since wanted to do, and my brother-in-law assured me is a lovely ride: the Moordenaarskaroo road from Laingsburg. Time isn't on my side and I slab it on tar all the way to Laingsburg where I fill up before turning towards the Moordenaarskaroo. The heat is brutal, and I'm thankful for my water bladder. I don't stop anywhere for long.

355?

Oh you're right, it's the R356 :imaposer:

 

[windswept]

:thumleft:

 

[Ri]

We are roused bright and early and hurried into getting ready to be gone by 07:00. The last few things are thrown into and onto the car and the kitchen sink is strapped onto the already straining trailer. Ouma is watered, wiped, dressed, polished and frog-marched to the car, still asleep. The teens wear wooden faces and drag wooden feet but don't waste energy arguing as they are excitedly press-ganged onto the bikes by loving parents.

Shortly before 07:00 they take off like bats out of hell, and I struggle to keep up even though I'm on a bigger bike. These two grew up riding the little DR200 on the farm, and they go slip sliding away while I have yet to master sliding into/out of a corner.

We head out into the chilly morning and the boundless Karoo.

 

[Tony the Boney]

back on the road again..... :thumbsup:

 

[Ri]

The surprisingly chilly air tears up our eyes and cuts through our gear. My niece's helmet is slightly big and the cold air swirls around her ears. I suggest she pull her hoodie over her head, and this does the trick until the day heats up.

 

[Ri]

The car and my bro-in-law catches up to us and we all stop and regroup.

My nephew immediately abdicates his position on the DR200, citing a hurting back, and claims the driver seat of my car.

 

[Ri]

My sister, groomed for this moment, gears up and gets ready to ride. Soon we carry on at a more sedate pace with bro-in-law keeping a watchful eye on her during her first proper ride on/off road.

My sister on the bigger bike, followed by my slender bro-in-law on the smaller DR200, reminds me vaguely of the scene at the end of Terry Pratchett's "Guards! Guards!"

 

[roxenz]

You're a very brave one for tackling this Ri!  :imaposer:  Looking forward to an entertaining RR (it's either that or tragic, isn't it? given loads of family...)

 

[Ri]

You're a very brave one for tackling this Ri!  :imaposer:  Looking forward to an entertaining RR (it's either that or tragic, isn't it? given loads of family...)

True story ...  :boxing:

 

[Ri]

The empty road stretches ahead, and the empty spaces stretch all around us. The sun shines ever stronger and the heat catches up with us.

 

[Ri]

back on the road again..... :thumbsup:

It's taking long to catch up on my RRs :lamer:

 

[Ri]

I love the Karoo but riding here in the heat and drought is not for the faint-hearted. Usually December is a temperate month, and things only really heat up in February, but this December day is throwing everything at us.

Our route takes us towards Sutherland for a short while, and then we turn towards Middelpos. I'd ridden this route in reverse in September 2019, and things have changed. A gate that was previously closed, with a big warning on it to keep it closed, now hangs open, and here and there a house stands empty and boarded up.

We push on, moving to keep from overheating.

My brother-in-law has a small problem with the carburator on his DR200, and has DIY'ed a fix for it, shown in the second photo.

 

[Ri]

We reach Middelpos, where we want to fill up and have breakfast at the hotel. All the bikes are quickly lined up in the shade of a building and we stand around panting like hot dogs, waiting for the proprietor to unlock the tanks. My sister is doing so well, I'm so proud of her!

Ouma plaintively asks for tea, and my sister and I walk over to the hotel to make arrangements. We ring the bell and the door is eventually answered after a very long time by a lady who doesn't look well. The poor lady has no help at hand, and is clearly in no state to attend to us. We bid her a quick goodbye and give Ouma the bad news: she'll have to wait for tea.

I phone Gannaga Lodge and Johan is delighted to provide us with breakfast. We arrange a time and fill up our bikes, keen to get my mom to a watering hole.

2 bikers arrive from Gannaga Pass side and also stop in the shade. They don't need fuel, they just stopped to shoot the breeze and get a bit of information. They are looking for interesting destinations, having ridden and become slightly bored with the more well-trodden paths. One is on a big 1200, either XT or GS, and the other is on a Honda 750 NCX. I don't think the bikes even have offroad tyres on. They are interesting young guys; one got his offroad bike and persuaded his friend on the Honda to join him in riding around the Karoo. I take my hat off to both of them :lol8:

The one biker kindly takes a group photo of us all, including Ouma dragged complainingly from the airconditioned coolness of the car, and my plump little ghost from the previous RR.

Soon our bikes are filled up and we get ready to set off again in the blistering heat.

 

[Ri]

We barely move when calamity strikes: my bro-in-law's DR200 develops a puncture, and the puncture repair kit is on the car. The car for once left us behind in a dust cloud instead of trailing us, like it has the entire way until now. Ouma must be very thirsty. I call and manage to catch my nephew before he loses mobile signal, and summon him back. When he eventually arrives back, my bro-in-law sensibly decides that he's not fixing the puncture by the side of the road without any shade, and Nephew has to help him move the trailer's load, and load and tie down the DR200.

Meanwhile my sister, my niece and I carry on and arrive at Gannaga Lodge, where Johan unbelievably recalls my face from my long ago visit in 2017.

But first, a check that everyone is masked appropriately to enter the establishment.