Part 4: Katse to Home
Finally. The lazy bastard posted the last part of the ride.
You can find on our website too:
https://www.greatamericantrek.com/lesotho-part-4-katse-dam-to-home/
Waking up in the freezing cold at sparrows-fart is so much better when you are doing it because you want to. With an awesome day ahead, I made myself some instant breakfast and some strong coffee and took in the mind-blowing view. Katse Dam's beauty does not disappoint. and I was going to be riding along it for most of the day.
I've had breakfast with worse views
To start the day off I had my first experience with trying to draw money from a bundu-bank in the middle of nowhere on pay-day, followed shortly by some breath-takingly expensive petrol obtained from a nearby hut before hitting the road.
The route I took, is a dirt road that travels alongside Katse Dam for it's whole length before going through Ha Lejone village, my fuel stop. The road is fantastic, just the right balance of open dirt, rocky sections, river crossings, and crazy scenery. Whenever you stop at any point along the road, you are greeted by everyone coming past, whether on donkey, pony or foot everyone will greet you, shake hands, and attempt to have a conversation, even though neither of you know what the hell the other is saying.
Some meet& greet with the locals during a break
Little streams along the way allow some splashing to keep the entertainment factor up
A roadside donkey threatening to cause a scene
Having to regularly stop in order to take it all in
Easy dirt roads under a blue sky, really relaxing riding
The bridge to Ha Lejone
After crossing a lekker bridge over the dam, I arrived in Ha Lejone, where I payed a guy to pour petrol into my tank and all over my bike, which apparently was also on my tab.
The bridge on the way to Ha Lejone
Such is Africa. From here the road took off into the mountains again, with some really special bridges and river crossings to add to elation of a complication-free ride. I would dearly love to know what the herdsman on their ponies thought of me trying to take timed photos of myself with the camera on a tripod, the look on their faces being along the lines of "what the actual f@#k is this idiot doing?".
But first... let me take a "selfie" O0
"What the hell is this idiot doing!?" :eek7:
Ha! Awesome selfie for the WIN!
As I rode on to Afriski, I watched the altitude creep up, and the snow creep in. After riding alongside a small river and past a few mines, I found myself at 3500m above sea level, and alone on the top of the mountains. The view was fantastic: greenery, snow, grey stone and blue sky. And always alongside a little stream. It was icy cold and deathly quiet, but amazingly refreshing. One thing that really struck me whilst riding through this area, was the air. It was so clean and cold, and had a sweet taste to it, it just made me want to eat it, I was taking huge gulps of it with great glee throughout the ride. I am still kicking myself about this, but I didn't take any photos or video of this part of the trip. I was so happy it didn't even really occur to me to document it. So I didn't. Sorry.[metaslider id=1016]
When the GPS indicated that Afriski was approaching I became quite sad the day's ride was coming to an end, but relieved to be arriving at a place with such a cool reputation. After riding past Afriski, turning around, still not finding the entrance, and turning around again, and generally looking like a tit, I eventually found the entrance next to the biggest sign I had ever seen in my natural life. I had approached it from behind and ridden right past it.
Afriski is a magical place. It is a massive struggle to convince yourself you are still in a rural African country and not a European ski resort. It is immaculately clean, with fantastic accommodation and amazing food. Pity there wasn't enough snow to ski, otherwise I would have taken a crack at another dangerous past-time. It felt so good to have my own bed and bathroom for the night, electric blankets and underfloor heating included. While I was there they were running a women's 4x4 weekend in the mountains and the lodge was very full. The people taking part were 90% government officials and police and 10% actual 4x4 ladies. Free food obviously has its pull. The crowds were generally out during the day so I spent some time getting to know the contractors out there and watched the head contractor - Oom Henk, paraglide off the mountains. This was made even more entertaining by watching a bunch of guys on dirt bikes making their way UP the ski slope and over the ramps. All-in-all an entertaining day in the mountains. My batteries were now thoroughly recharged.
Oom Henk showing us all how its done
Afriski after dark
The following day, the plan was to leave the lodge early, and head to Butha-Buthe, a small town, to fill up. After this, the route was to go through a small border crossing and into South Africa's beautiful Golden Gate National Park for a last night on the road before heading home. The road out of Afriski quickly turns to tarmac. A very scenic ride through the mountains on very tight twisties with numerous roadside waterfalls follows. At this point I had the option of avoiding Butha Buthe and heading straight over the border with a half-full tank that would most probably be more than enough. But no. I wanted to be safe. Put in petrol they said. Its a good idea they said... So I did.
Nice new twisty tar with great views to Butha-Buthe
After heading through a police road block, where I was interrogated about the fact that my bike was lacking a fire-extinguisher, and I was lacking bribery-money I managed to fill up at a nearby station. Having topped up the tank I was ready for the last bit of Lesotho before traveling through an area I have been wanting to see for years. With these happy thoughts running through my head I set off down the road to where the roadblock was, only to be met by an idiot in a taxi. Out of nowhere, and at slow speed, he turned into oncoming traffic (my lane), and carried on going. I saw him pulling this gem of a move, braked, and swerved around him. Now this is about the time a normal person would see the bike that is RIGHT in front of them, and stop the car. Oh no - not this guy. He was looking in the opposite direction, the direction I was headed to. When I realised he wasn't going to stop, and impact was inevitable I thought "Aaah not again!" and expressed this thought by shouting "No no no no no nooooo!" in my helmet. The first time he saw me was when he hit my right pannier, which snapped his radiator in half and took his bumper off. I did a break-dancing move over his bonnet (the one where you spin on your back) and landed on my back on the other side. Thank God I did not get seriously injured, apart from a badly bruised left heel and a burst Camelbak, I didn't have a scratch on me.
Great.
Well pannier, you had a good run.
After showing off my vocabulary of profanities and possibly threatening the taxi-driver's life, a policeman from the roadblock arrived to intervene. One thing I must do is commend these police. With no sarcasm, they were friendly, helpful and professional. After bending the pannier frame off the rear wheel and bending the handlebars straight, I tied up what was left of the pannier and headed over to the cop-shop. Within 30min my accident report was done, complete with all the contact numbers, etc. etc. By this time I was already in trouble with the wife (you have to tell them some time) and thought it best to cut my losses and head home through the Butha Buthe border post on the tar. My rear wheel was scraping against the pannier rack over the bumps, so a dirt road was out of the question. I would have really loved to go through Golden Gate and I am so upset I didn't get to. Oh well, what happens, happens. I made my way home safely in one fell swoop on an ugly highway, a downer to the end of an awesome trip.
The Rozzers - pictures and photography are not their strong point
Even though it had ended like this I took a lot away from this little journey. Mountains of practical knowledge of kit, and riding, but most of all I came out with a much stronger mindset and ability to motivate myself. Also a renewed appreciation for all the things we have that others desperately lack, Lesotho is a very poor country. This really hit home when I was worried about my camera gear on the bike getting stolen at the accident scene: The cop told me not to worry "They will never steal that stuff, they don't know what it is or how to use it, rather keep an eye on your t-shirts and socks.". It just makes one want to give away some t-shirts and socks.
Anyway, the trip did the trick, it did what an adventure ride should do, I saw places I had never been to before and had new experiences and dealt with new problems. In doing so it cleared the mind and gave me a break from reality. Lesotho I will be back (and this time I'll wear my waterproof gear!).
