Day 8 - George to Sedgefield and Back
Route:
Longtime friends are visiting Sedgefield, and I grab the opportunity to spend some time with them. I head for the Seven Passes road, but am a little disappointed at how much of it is tarred. There is also a lot of sand on the tarred road, and I creep around the corners after almost losing the back end on the first turn. I speculate that this could be due to sand being used to fight the massive fires in the area, but I don't know whether they reached George, as there is no other signs of fire.
As the Seven Passes are mostly turns, this makes for a slow journey, but I don't mind. The morning is crisp and clear, the birds are singing and flitting about, the sun dapples through the leaves, and it is good to be alive and on a purple bike. There is a bit of traffic traveling at slightly uncomfortable speeds around blind corners, but they soon peter out. Then I reach some gravel, and the fun begins.
The road runs high against the hill parallel to the N2, and the farmlands are beautifully green - a huge contrast to the brown, dusty Karoo. There is also water shortages here, but the green hues and the large inland lakes and channels gives a false of abundance. At the Sedgefield turn-off, I head down a steep drop, carefully steering around the corners as I balance on the brakes. Where the gravel bottoms out is a stretch of dented corrugation, and I stand for comfort and give gas. Gent's soft suspension sucks it up, and soon we head into a wide turn amongst the reeds skirting the lakes.
If I hadn't arranged to meet my friends so early, I would've continued on the Seven Passes road and ridden into Sedgefield from Knysna side, but I seem to overestimate how long a stretch of gravel is going to take me to travel, probably assuming it will be more difficult and I'll have to travel slower. I turn left onto the N2 for a stretch of about 5 kms into Sedgefield. It is still only about 08:00, but there is already some traffic about.
We spend a lazy day walking many kilometres along the beach.
When the tide turns, people walk to the mouth of the river and float downstream on the swiftly moving tide. It looks like huge fun, and the place is crowded.
Then it is time to head home. As I ride over the last bridge out of Sedgefield, there is a turn-off to the right and I quickly turn onto it. I'm barely 5m along when I realise my mistake - the tar road narrows and dwindles to nothing and there is a derelict train track up ahead. There is a track of sorts, and if I were more skilled and on a light plastic, I would have probably bawled along happily. As it is, I seriously consider for a moment trying to carry on, because how on Earth am I going to turn my bike around?
Then sanity kicks in, an icy trickle of reason assuring me that if I went that way and something happened, it was very doubtful I'd be found soon. I regretfully turn away from the tempting track and assess my predicament. I'm not very good at moving my bike, and usually try to paddle where I need to be in order to keep it upright. The problem is the very narrow and broken tar road, falling away into a ditch on the right and crumbling up against a steep ridge on the left. There isn't enough space to paddle the bike backwards and forwards in a million-point turn. The heat and nerves cause sweat to trickle down my back, but the sun was falling and I have to make a plan.
I paddle the bike back diagonally as far as I can, and then Inspiration hits. I tip the Gentleman onto his side stand, balancing carefully not to overtip, and start heaving at the front end to pull it around. A few tips and pulls, and my imagination assures me Gent I'm gaining ground. More tips and pulls, and, thoroughly unnerved and hot, I decide to give it a go. I hop onto the Gent, turn him on and heave the wheel as far to the left as possible. Then I gently, gently ease the throttle forwards, keeping the clutch lever pulled in ever so slightly just in case, and start rolling forward over the bumps and holes at the edge of the road. After what feels like forever, I'm suddenly facing the way I came and I elatedly sing praises and hallelujas. God is good!
Dodging heavy traffic onto the N2 again, I find the correct exit and swing onto it, along the wide bend and over the hectic corrugations, and following my established tradition, completely miss my turn up the steep hill to reach Seven Passes at the top. Instead, I follow the wide gravel at the foot of the hill until it turns onto the Karatara road that I remembered from earlier, and soon I'm on the Seven Passes Road and heading into George.
Dan moet ek bysê, Minxy se Africa Twin met die pienk touches lyk gorgeous!! :drif:
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