It takes a while to sign into the Baviaanskloof Nature Reserve. Last time we passed through, I don't think we had to pay, but this time round Richard spots the price of entry and I owe him a beer ... or three.
The nature conservation guy is impressed with our modes of transport, and laments his own KTM450 because he battles to find the right sized wheels for it in the rural areas. Apparently a group of riders promised that when they ride this way again in December, they will bring him the right sized tyres. I really hope they kept their word.
A few drops fall as we pull away, but the ranger assures us that no rain was forecast, and we'll probably have a dry ride all the way through. He is right. Apart from a few drops here and there, which nicely settles the dust, it is very hot and humid and dry. The ranger brags about the condition of the road, assuring us we'll be riding a virtual highway all the way to Patensie, clearly very proud of the work done by the farmers, and I find it heartwarming that he takes such pleasure and pride in it.
It is greener here than it was last time I passed through, and it lifts the heart
Taking a comfort and photo break... because I can mos like to take peechas.
Judging by the tracks in the road, we are the first people riding up to the lookout point since the grading.
I've learnt to park in ways that make subsequent pull aways easier.
I hope Richard remembered to use sunscreen
Yours truly, riding in the same t-shirt since I bought it at the WC Malgas Bash yonks ago, because the colour doesn't fade, cotton is awesome and I love the design. Sometimes I alternate it with Thumper Bash t-shirts.
Eventually we reach a much changed Smitskraal. It had been shored up and filled in from the other side, but from this side it is still a deep 2-spoor filled with big round white rocks. Richard rides through first, and then I paddle my way through without incident.
What used to be a long submerged road is now a mere puddle. I remember the tales of derring-do when others crossed thigh-deep in water and bikes became wholly submerged when dropped by unweary bikers. That time will come again, but I'm a relieved it isn't now.
The spitting clouds disappear and the air grows more hot and humid. A small group of "voetgangers" catch my eye and I stop to take photo's. They bunch on top of each other, the group on the ground turning to change the direction of the whole group as they try to look more menacing than they are.
Patiently waiting for the crazy woman taking photo's of little black grasshoppers in the mid day sun.
The road after Smitskraal is as bad as it has always been, with steep uphills and downhils, cement slabs with crumbling bumps to let the water to run to the sides, deep washed out ruts and naked stone banks. I choose my line and crawl down carefully, crossing the ruts at right angles so the wheel doesn't get caught, and hoping Richard is OK. He's been riding for longer so he should be. There isn't time to stop and take photo's, and we just regroup every now and then.
At Holgat Pass I hug the inside cement line, even though it looks worse than the outside one. I'm not in the mood to ride over the krans if I can't make my turn. Suddenly a 4x4 comes racing around a small blind bend, and without thinking I push Hoolingan into a DR650-sized gap in the foliage to the right. The 4x4ers merrily wave their beers and cigarettes at me before speeding onwards.
I carry on cautiously, but there are no other hooligans on the road except me. I reach the top without further incident, and stop to take a breather. Richard catches up with me, breathing fire at the racing 4x4 and incredulous that I managed to evade their dumbassery. It is sweltering, and we get going again.
At the last low water bridge before we leave the nature reserve, I come to a sudden stop. I'm overheating, I need to cool down. It is as well that we stop, because Richard notices that his bash plate had come loose, and he needs to remove it. While he fights the rubber mounts, I walk further upstream, and dip my t-shirt in the water to cool myself down.
The indestructible Hooligan weathers Baviaanskloof with aplomb, yet again.
Naked BMW
We reach the exit of Baviaanskloof and take celebratory pics.
Magical place that I would ride again, any time. It would be awesome to camp here for a few days and explore on foot. Hmmm...
Escape from Paradise. Sigh...
We have one goal in sight now, and that is a beer. Richard also needs to buy hamburger buns for dinner, but that is his indaba. We stop at Padlangs, a place I've never visited before, and I have to admit to being underwhelmed. It's a beautiful spot, but pricey.
We continue to Patensie to fill up, and then turn back towards Elandsrivier Road. As we turn onto Elandsrivier Road, a plastic comes racing along, the rider wearing no safety gear, roars past us up Elandsrivier Road with a jaunty wave, and soon turns back to pass us again going in the other direction with a jaunty wave. Maybe he heard us and just came for a look-see.
Plastic hooligan
The first few kilometres of Elandsrivier Road is as bad as I remember from our previous trip, ridden out, bumpy, rutted, corrugated, stoney and just horrible. We finally reach the towers near the Grootrivierpoort Road turnoff, and from there the road improves slightly. It becomes a silent, sweeping, curvy ride into the deepening dusk, our bikes snoring quietly while birds flit overhead. The views are breathtaking.
There goes Grootrivierpoort Road, meandering off into the distance.
Next time, plan to stay at Duiwekloof about 10km after you enter, you won't want to leave, we stayed an additional night. Thanks for the RR, would love to have your writing talent.
