HHHusky
Pack Dog
This morning I decided to go exploring a bit closer to home, and I visited some interesting places I had spotted while stuck in my cage on the N1 in Pretoria. First stop was the hill and valley to the east of N1 just of Rigel offramp â?? this hill is crisscrossed with paths, and some of them leading into the valley looked quite steep. I had noticed some 4x4â??s playing there on a few occasions. According to T4A these paths were â??Steep 4WD-Lâ?, which sounded promising. T4A indicated an entry gate in Newlands, so this is where I headed first. Gate was locked (obviously!), so I circled around and found an entry point right at the top of the hill (off Lois Ave.) Here is the view from the top of the hill looking west, with the N1 in the distance
Being a responsible old fart I was a bit concerned about annoying the neighbors, but found the paths are generally well away from any residences, and quickly dropped into the valley. And then of course there was the continuous roar from the N1 across the valley, so I assume these people have calloused ear-drums in any case. There were rocky paths galore, some going across the hill
but most were going down into the valley, and yes they were steep. And did I mention rocky.
I chose a path and slowly made my way down to the valley floor without too much trouble, and then followed the track in the valley south for a while to catch my breath. What comes down must go up again, so after a while I again randomly chose one of the paths going up and nailed it. Maybe not quite Coconuts, but I was getting real workout - picture is terrible but does give some idea of the terrain
First bit went quite well, and the bike hoped over the rocks no problem, but the climb is pretty long and as I started getting tired things got a little bit wild. Then I hit a dip full of large rocks which shot me off the path and onto the side of the hill, where I proceeded to do some wild bike-ballet before coming to an ungraceful halt against an ant-hill. Didnâ??t drop it, but nearly tore my leg off trying to not fall. From my experience technical riding is 80% fitness, and Iâ??m not very fit, so I just quietly sat there for five minutes admiring the view and waiting for my heart rate to drop below 150. Note to self â?? must get fit. No way to turn around, so I zigzagged across the hill to the next path going up and started again â?? this path was steeper and rockier, but I made it to the top without further incidents. Note to self - need a bash plate if I am going to keep doing this kind of thing. I then pottered around the top of the hill for a while, and then for the first time I started noticing the number of vagrants in the area â?? in every thicket of trees there were guys camping, some obviously pretty well organized and obviously semi-permanent residents. Note to self - donâ??t ever buy a property adjacent to a green belt! Nothing much to do at the top, so I chose the steepest track going down, and dropped back into the valley to try and see if I can get across the valley floor onto the opposite hill. Got to the bottom, and this time took the path going north, but after a while it swung back up the hill, but there was a footpath leading off to the left into the trees which I took. Bad idea, as the path immediately dropped into very steep river bed between many tightly spaced small trees, and it was hard work getting down the one side and up the other side without throwing it, and to make things exciting on the one side of the path there was a 3 meter deep washout waiting to cause serious pain. This was however not the problem, because as I exited the river bed on the other side wedged between trees on a steep camber I also stumbled across a very large party of vagrants camping between the trees. These dudes just didnâ??t look friendly at all, and maybe it was because the Husky is all yellow and blue. Really bad vibes (so didnâ??t take a picture), so I tried to do a sort of half wheelie tree-point turn thingy wedged between the trees and on a bit of a slope, and although not elegant I managed to turn the bike around in record time just as I noticed two guys getting up and start walking towards me. Now I was getting really nervous, so quickly down into the riverbed, but I get it all wrong and the rear end slides to the side and I end up with bike hanging over the edge of previously described precipice, with me desperately hanging on trying to keep the bike from disappearing over the edge. And the two dudes keep walking closer, with no smiles in spite of my heroic antics. Now I am really scared, because if I let go off the bike was going to become seriously unrecoverable by any solo effort and I was miles away from help (right in the middle of the capital city!) What was I to do! So I politely asked the guys to help. Which they proceeded to do, firstly pulling the rear back on solid ground and then helping me get up the other side, all the while being showered in sand and rocks from the wildly spinning rear wheel. Once back on the path I gave them a half-hearted â??thanks for helping me with the bike and not slitting my throatâ? kind of cheerio wave and got the hell out of there. This incident has really been working my mind over today, because on the one side I honestly think the situation was really dangerous, but on the other side a bit of politeness resulted in these guys selflessly helping me save my bike from big damage. What a weird country, but less philosophy, thereâ??s a bit more riding to be had. Note to self - must go back, but not solo.
Luckily the valley path has an exit point if you keep going south, and so I did not have to fight my way to the top again, although I was so pumped with adrenaline it probably would have been a doddle. Being braver then bright, and not wishing the ride to end this way, I decided to cross over the N1 to the hill on the other side of Rigel Road. I take the first path I see, and follow it into the trees, where it immediately starts climbing steeply up the hill. I keep going for a while, having a ball, but then the path gets even steeper and rockier, and I chicken out â?? here is the last bit to the top that looked too tough to do solo:
On these tight rocky uphill the Husky feels about 30kg too heavy, and bloody tall, but in reality I think it probably has more to do with the rider being 30 kg too heavy. I cut across the hill to another path going downhill through the trees, and after some more good riding I popped up on a hill next to the N1.
Again the area is littered with vagrants, and I stumble across a group of about ten guys who have a very well sorted kraal deep in the trees, less than 500m from some of Waterkloofâ??â??s mansions. I follow another path going up thatâ??s a bit easier than the first, and Iâ??m rewarded of this spectacular view of the valley where the fun started
I popped straight onto the N1, and what an amazing bike â?? one minute Iâ??m climbing a steep rocky footpath up a hill and the next Iâ??m thundering along at 130km/hour on the highway. Thatâ??s about it, maybe more writing than riding, but what a physically and emotionally intense ride in the heart of the capital city!
Being a responsible old fart I was a bit concerned about annoying the neighbors, but found the paths are generally well away from any residences, and quickly dropped into the valley. And then of course there was the continuous roar from the N1 across the valley, so I assume these people have calloused ear-drums in any case. There were rocky paths galore, some going across the hill
but most were going down into the valley, and yes they were steep. And did I mention rocky.
I chose a path and slowly made my way down to the valley floor without too much trouble, and then followed the track in the valley south for a while to catch my breath. What comes down must go up again, so after a while I again randomly chose one of the paths going up and nailed it. Maybe not quite Coconuts, but I was getting real workout - picture is terrible but does give some idea of the terrain
First bit went quite well, and the bike hoped over the rocks no problem, but the climb is pretty long and as I started getting tired things got a little bit wild. Then I hit a dip full of large rocks which shot me off the path and onto the side of the hill, where I proceeded to do some wild bike-ballet before coming to an ungraceful halt against an ant-hill. Didnâ??t drop it, but nearly tore my leg off trying to not fall. From my experience technical riding is 80% fitness, and Iâ??m not very fit, so I just quietly sat there for five minutes admiring the view and waiting for my heart rate to drop below 150. Note to self â?? must get fit. No way to turn around, so I zigzagged across the hill to the next path going up and started again â?? this path was steeper and rockier, but I made it to the top without further incidents. Note to self - need a bash plate if I am going to keep doing this kind of thing. I then pottered around the top of the hill for a while, and then for the first time I started noticing the number of vagrants in the area â?? in every thicket of trees there were guys camping, some obviously pretty well organized and obviously semi-permanent residents. Note to self - donâ??t ever buy a property adjacent to a green belt! Nothing much to do at the top, so I chose the steepest track going down, and dropped back into the valley to try and see if I can get across the valley floor onto the opposite hill. Got to the bottom, and this time took the path going north, but after a while it swung back up the hill, but there was a footpath leading off to the left into the trees which I took. Bad idea, as the path immediately dropped into very steep river bed between many tightly spaced small trees, and it was hard work getting down the one side and up the other side without throwing it, and to make things exciting on the one side of the path there was a 3 meter deep washout waiting to cause serious pain. This was however not the problem, because as I exited the river bed on the other side wedged between trees on a steep camber I also stumbled across a very large party of vagrants camping between the trees. These dudes just didnâ??t look friendly at all, and maybe it was because the Husky is all yellow and blue. Really bad vibes (so didnâ??t take a picture), so I tried to do a sort of half wheelie tree-point turn thingy wedged between the trees and on a bit of a slope, and although not elegant I managed to turn the bike around in record time just as I noticed two guys getting up and start walking towards me. Now I was getting really nervous, so quickly down into the riverbed, but I get it all wrong and the rear end slides to the side and I end up with bike hanging over the edge of previously described precipice, with me desperately hanging on trying to keep the bike from disappearing over the edge. And the two dudes keep walking closer, with no smiles in spite of my heroic antics. Now I am really scared, because if I let go off the bike was going to become seriously unrecoverable by any solo effort and I was miles away from help (right in the middle of the capital city!) What was I to do! So I politely asked the guys to help. Which they proceeded to do, firstly pulling the rear back on solid ground and then helping me get up the other side, all the while being showered in sand and rocks from the wildly spinning rear wheel. Once back on the path I gave them a half-hearted â??thanks for helping me with the bike and not slitting my throatâ? kind of cheerio wave and got the hell out of there. This incident has really been working my mind over today, because on the one side I honestly think the situation was really dangerous, but on the other side a bit of politeness resulted in these guys selflessly helping me save my bike from big damage. What a weird country, but less philosophy, thereâ??s a bit more riding to be had. Note to self - must go back, but not solo.
Luckily the valley path has an exit point if you keep going south, and so I did not have to fight my way to the top again, although I was so pumped with adrenaline it probably would have been a doddle. Being braver then bright, and not wishing the ride to end this way, I decided to cross over the N1 to the hill on the other side of Rigel Road. I take the first path I see, and follow it into the trees, where it immediately starts climbing steeply up the hill. I keep going for a while, having a ball, but then the path gets even steeper and rockier, and I chicken out â?? here is the last bit to the top that looked too tough to do solo:
On these tight rocky uphill the Husky feels about 30kg too heavy, and bloody tall, but in reality I think it probably has more to do with the rider being 30 kg too heavy. I cut across the hill to another path going downhill through the trees, and after some more good riding I popped up on a hill next to the N1.
Again the area is littered with vagrants, and I stumble across a group of about ten guys who have a very well sorted kraal deep in the trees, less than 500m from some of Waterkloofâ??â??s mansions. I follow another path going up thatâ??s a bit easier than the first, and Iâ??m rewarded of this spectacular view of the valley where the fun started
I popped straight onto the N1, and what an amazing bike â?? one minute Iâ??m climbing a steep rocky footpath up a hill and the next Iâ??m thundering along at 130km/hour on the highway. Thatâ??s about it, maybe more writing than riding, but what a physically and emotionally intense ride in the heart of the capital city!
