Day 4: Opuwo to Epupa Falls (229 km)
Video of day 4:
[flash=900,506]https://www.youtube.com/v/lwWA5_RoCZM[/flash]
Another fantastic day of biking dawns:
Revealing some creatures of the night:
Sammy prepping breakfast:
Jannie, Abel, Pete, Hennie R and Craig enjoying a breakfast of French toast and sausage:
Hennie R, Craig, Henk, Bertie and Ian:
Oubones was busy with DIY again. His luggage rack was only attached with two screws. More were required as insurance to keep the rack in place for the remainder of the ride.
On the way out, some stopped to buy ice to fill their water bladders. Others (including me!) hovered around like vultures to nab any remaining ice not used.
The ubiquitous ‘beware of cow’ sign:
And the funny ‘shady tree sprouts bikers’ phenomenon:
Oubones sharing some biltong snacks:
The C roads here are well-maintained. This one was having maintenance work done to it. I took the opportunity to claim my own lane.
It came with arbitrary speed limits. 30 km/h? Really?
A big dot on the horizon signalled the end of my lane.
I’m not about to challenge a grader for this space!
Again: a lonely tree became a bustling metropolis of activity, filled with bikers and locals.
This tree appeared to be climbing out of the ground.
A friendly local:
Craig on his trusty steed:
Abel (not sure whether to call his steed trusty, but all eventual gremlins were not of its making):
Hardy zooming by:
Kobus giving us the thumbs-up:
River crossings were never quite enough for Lance.
He had to go explore down the riverbed!
These sheep took the road markings to heart. Go right!
We visited the Dorsland Trek monument just outside Swartbooisdrift. This commemorates the final leg in a marathon of travel. The Boers didn’t like the Xhosas and Brits, so they moved from the Cape to the (then) Free State and Transvaal. Then they decided to go to Angola. There are two theories for the reasoning behind this monumental decision: (1) the Brits followed them up-country and were being annoying or the (2) ‘because it’s there’ approach, i.e. no particular reason. I would hope that they followed reasoning number one, because number two seems a rather arbitrary reason for 3000-odd people to die. Once in Angola, the Portuguese got annoyed with the Boers, so many Boers went to Namibia – then part of South Africa.
Camouflaged on the monument:
The place was boiling, with every scrap of diluted shade occupied, therefore we did not tarry long.
Unlike the Dorsland Trekkers, it had taken us only 6 days to reach the Angolan border, but this was as far north as we would go. Yet, from now onwards, the roads got interesting!
Someone had fun here:
Henk crossing the riverbed:
We were meant to stop here for a lunch of jaffles on the fire, but we were running short of time. It was decided to push on.
Chantal handed out snacks to keep us going. I still had plenty of leftovers from the previous day’s snack pack!
I’m not sure where everyone went after this point, but it felt as if we scattered to the wind. The roads were of variable surface and there were a couple of splits from which to choose. It was great fun!
Lance kept an eye on his Garmin (a well-abused small cycle computer) to make sure we were heading in a vaguely-correct direction. I have absolute faith in this vagueness. He seems to have a built-in GPS in his head.
One of the splits:
The surface was like liquorice: all sorts!
We were joined by Oubones, Pete and Duncan.
Oubones:
Pete:
I assume there are no pics of Duncan due to his penchant to zoom past and then wait. He is actually one of the medium-fast crowd, which to us means ‘medium-rare to spot back here’!
The track became fainter still:
And then ended at a river. A very wide river. Uhm. No.
Lance imagines a bridge further back.
Retreat, retreat!
Huh? But we just got here!
No bridge here either!
We retreated even further, but after reaching the same river (Ondoto – a Kunene tributary) a third time with a glaring lack of man-made constructions, we slowly came to the conclusion that this was part of the deal: the river must be crossed. Duncan appeared again at this point.
The third crossing came complete with a demo of what could happen when things go wrong: two guys with one very stuck bike. The guys looked rather tired. They were in the stand-and-stare-at-that-damn-bike point of the game.
Pete and Duncan greeting the owners of the Africa Twin and the (stuck) Triumph:
Many hands make light work. The number of people moving the Triumph were limited only by the number of conceivable hand-holds! Pete, Duncan and Oubones pitching in:
Next came the Africa Twin:
Lance lending a hand (singular):
Abel popped out of the woodwork. I have no idea where he came from, as he wasn’t on our missing-bridges excursion. I suppose we were on the path-less-travelled and were now on the main drag. Abel was uncertain about the crossing, so Oubones and Duncan went to help.
It seems very wet…
Life can be greatly impacted by your perspective on it. The below photo’s perspective shows a mud-drenched Abel.
Reality is otherwise. Abel is dry, Oubones is helping (hidden behind Duncan in the pic above), and Duncan is actually a considerate guy in real life!
I wonder what Mr. Triumph and Mr. Africa Twin thought when we crossed one by one with no incident! There is something to be said for small bikes and a supported trip, with built-in luggage-carrier services.
Though Duncan carried more tools than most. It must be a KTM thing!
We were salvaging the pride of small bikes everywhere…
…until Lance had a side-stand incident in the sand right about here: