..love the smell of desert in the morning - Southern Nam August 07

[Sam]

Southern Namibia â?? 09 â?? 20 August 2007

I'd like to say that we've just returned from a trip to Namibia, but��.it has been six months! The trip was a great adventure for us, and for those that haven't been to Namibia, the scenery is well worth sharing.

Anyway, I though Iâ??d try my hand at putting story behind the picture this time, and try my hand at writing up a travel / ride report. Numbers being my usual gameâ?¦ there is a good chance that this might end up being the greatest sleeping aid known to mankind, or then again, it might notâ?¦â?¦.

The backroundâ?¦..

Allan and I have been mates for about 25 years - this definitely makes travelling together a little easier - no surprises along the way, and no obligation for conversation â?? in fact, I think that there were a good couple of days where communication was limited to a couple of monosyllabilic grunts . Ironically enough, in 1989 & 90, we both spent time in Namibia, both in Walvis Bay, at the behest of our then government. The subject of undertaking a road trip through the country has risen on many occasions over the intervening years, starting with XT500â??s (câ??mon, lets buy a couple and just head upâ?¦), moving on to 4x4â??s, and then back to bikes. The bikes won!

So, a year ago, after not riding bikes for about 5 years (well, Allan rode a "Top Boy" scooter for a while, but that canâ??t countâ?¦..can it?), we both ended up buying at the drop of a hat.

The bikes were the easy part��..now we just had to commit to taking time off work�. and almost a year later...we finally got around to doing it. Namibia is, after Mongolia, the most sparsely populated country in the world so, other than the adventure of a motorcycle trip, it was a great destination if one just wants to get away from it all!

Preparation.

Both bikes are (wereâ?¦) relatively new, so no work required on mechanics. My AT had blown itâ??s voltage regulator, which required a re-build, and at the same time, I decided that heated grips would be a luxurious addition to the ride and with my offroading skills, crashbars probably a necessity! Engine and fork oil change, and that was itâ?¦.
Al kitted up the Beemer with bigger footpegs, handlebar raisers (6ft + doesn't exactly fall into the "average" category that the engineers taking into consideration when designing the asthetics of the F650), and ditched the heavy catalytic converter and fake double tailpipe for a single "Scorched" tail-can. It was an interesting project to quieten the noise of the frequent 650cc explosions that are integral with the forward motion of the bike!

Packing.

I had soft panniers and a top-bag for the trip. My only concern at the time was that they wouldnâ??t be big enough to fit all the kit for a two week trip. My concern was slightly misplacedâ?¦..it wasn't the bags that ran out of space, but rather the bike!

Knowing that I had an office party the night before we were leaving, I decided to be proactive, and pack everything two nights before. The plan was to be able to wake up with the inevitable hangover, and only have to summon up enough mental agility to attach the packed panniers to the bike. Ha.

Due to meet at Alâ??s house in town at 9.00, I woke up at 6.00 to start attaching said gear. Bleary eyed, wishing one could take coffee intravenously, I stumbled downstairs to the garage. The attaching of the panniers went off remarkably incident free, albeit a little slow (difficult to work with one hand, the other occupied with the life saving task of supporting the mug of caffeineâ?¦). All that was left was to attach the tent, sleeping bag and camping chair. Easy enoughâ?¦â?¦. however, once everything was on, I noticed a glaring oversightâ?¦â?¦ no space left for the pilot! No matter how much I tried to move everything back, I still ended up sitting on the tank, looking forward to a very uncomfortable 4,500 km.

Soâ?¦â?¦ ditch the tailbag, chuck everything into a huge kitbag, strap everything on with a copious quantity of bungi cords, tie-down straps, etc, etcâ?¦â?¦ and finally had enough space for me. The entire exercise was completed in completely good humourâ?¦â?¦6.00 am, hangover, things wonâ??t work, running lateâ?¦. you decide.

The older F650's weren't fitted with carriers, which makes attaching panniers and the like a little bit of a pain. Allan, owning a specialist metalwork manufacturer, constructed a bespoke carrier, which he attached to the side-panel mounting points. He didn't fill me in on the finer points of his packing, but knowing how organised he is, I have a strong suspicion that his packing efforts were well rewarded!

Day 1. Cape Town - Orange River. 478km - 9 hours

And so it starts.
I live in Sea Pointâ?¦â?¦at the top of a very steep hill. Lets just say, doing a u-turn with the AT weighing in at about 340kg (bike 230, gear about 25, me the restâ?¦.) was entertaining to say the very least. Headed through to Alâ??s house, braving the early morning CT driving (which, believe it or not, is actually markedly worse than later in the dayâ?¦.bad). Was almost run over by a lass who somehow just didnâ??t notice meâ?¦..on a dead straight roadâ?¦.with no other traffic around. Bless her â?? it was Womens Day after all, so my reaction was remarkably restrained

I was quite interested (read nervous�) to see how my suspension set-up would work after my fine adjustments to the rear pre-load. Anyone who rides an AT would know that this exercise is undertaken using the finest of precision tools��.a hammer and punch. Amazingly enough, the handling was fine, although I did have to slacken the chain, which was bar-taut after packing on all of the gear.

Arrived at Alâ??s house bang on time, which is a really rare occurrence for me. He was suitable impressed â?? we donâ??t call him "The Organiser" for nothing.

The good news was that heâ??d also been out on a wee bender the night before, and didnâ??t appear to be in much better condition than I. He was, however, packed and ready to go at 9.00amâ?¦..

Fortune was smiling on us â?? the sun was out after about a week solid of rain, and the temperature was not too bad either. A good startâ?¦

CT â?? Piketberg. 145km

We headed out of CT on the N1, with reasonably light "long weekend" public holiday morning traffic, turning onto the N7 just outside of CT. Heading out through the farmlands around Malmesbury, and on to Piketburg, one was struck with how green the lands were. Weâ??ve had a LOT of rain down here this year.

There are quite a few sections of the N7 that are a little nerve wracking to drive, with the section from Melkbos to Malmesbury being one of them. Very narrow, single carriageway, and a lot of "50/50" overtaking . Not fun taking on into the rising sunâ?¦.

We arrived in Piketberg just after 10.00, and after filling the bikes, decided to grab a fry-up for breakfast. Winkelshok was quite busy, with numerous 4 x 4â??s getting ready to head off into the hills. We had a quiet chuckle at the chap in the shiny new Audi Q7, wondering if he knew what the roads were like heading into the Cederberg!

Piketberg â?? Vanryhnsdorp. 205km

After a leisurely break (you wouldnâ??t have thought that we still had about 600km to go for the day), we hit the road again. First heart stopping moment of the trip â?? weâ??d been back on the N7 for about 10 minutes when I noticed Al roaring up behind me (wellâ?¦.as much as a Dakar can ever "roar"â?¦) gesticulating and flashing lights. Strangely enough, the first thought that entered my mind was that the bike was on fire (??), and so proceeded to execute an emergency stop (wellâ?¦. as close as an AT can ever get to an emergency stopâ?¦). It turned out that excess strap from one of my hastily tied tie-downs had come loose, and was about 2 cm away from getting caught up in the rear sprocket. 130km and hour to dead stop would not have worked out well (those straps have about a 1 ton breaking strain.). Lesson learnt â?? I double-checked those things at every stop for the rest of the trip.

The view down into the Swartland from the Pikenierskloof Pass was stunning. Crystal clear air, blue skies, and emerald green farmlands for as far as the eye could see. (unfortunately no photies). The pass down into Citrusdal is always a joy to ride â?? nice twisties, and too bumpy to go fast enough to scare yourself. I was, however, still getting the feel of the bike with the extra load, so the stretch did require a little more concentration than usual.

The road from Citrusdal to Clanwilliam is also extremely narrow, with no run-off shoulder whatsoever. Every time a 18 wheeler comes toward you, you wonder if there is enough space to pass�. and then you get hit by the "bow wave" of air being pushed by the truck. Entertaining��

The Clanwilliam dam was the fullest Iâ??d ever seen. When we arrived at the wall, there were a good many people that had stopped to see the water gushing from the sluice gates. The water level is not too far below the top of the wall. Apparently 110% full! 

From the dam, we headed on to Vanryhnsdorp. Up to this point, you are still riding through the foothills of the Cedeberg, with the land starting to flatten out into the Karoo the closer you get to V-Dorp.

About 10km outside of the town, the police had set up a road-block, checking licences, and one would hope, un-roadworthy vehicles. These things are always quite a pain to come across when youâ??re wearing full kit. The cop stops me, and holds out his hand for my license, obviously not realising that this is about a five minute operation involving removing gloves, trying to find in which velcroed and zipped shut small pocket, out of five, you have your license, while trying to prevent your bike rolling down the hill on which they have stopped you. (in short, kind of like stopping at a toll-gateâ?¦!) The irony of it all was that they didnâ??t even ask us to take off helmets or goggles (reflective iridium lensesâ?¦.). Clearly being able to produce a license was more important than actually being the rightful bearer of the licenseâ?¦..go figure. Ah well, I suppose itâ??s better than them not being there at all.

Anyway, on to the buzzing metropolis of Vanryhsdorp. A quick stop to fill up, rest the buttsâ?¦.and check if the gear was still strapped on.

Vanrhynsdorp â?? Springbok. 254km

The road to Springbok from here is quite deceptive. While appearing pretty flat, itâ??s actually uphill all the way through. By this stage, a spiteful cross wind had picked up, coming in from about an 11 oâ??clock angle. The arrival of the next cold front in the Cape!

Over the years, Iâ??ve travelled this road up to the border about 15 times. Iâ??ve never seen as much greenery as now. We had heard that the Namaqualand flowers season was gearing up to be spectacular, but didnâ??t see that many fields of flowers. Only on our return trip did we realise that we had been travelling into the sun, and as the flowers track the sun, they were facing away from us.

However, the bugs must have been having a field day with the flowers â?? I had to stop to clear my goggles after about 100kmâ?¦â?¦..bug juice aplenty!

This turned out to be a looonnggg stretch. Before setting out in the morning we had agreed to hold cruising speed at about 130km/h. There were various reasons behind the decisionâ?¦â?¦.the AT chews up itâ??s tires at high speed, drinks petrol like a thirsty camel, and doesnâ??t offer the greatest wind protection for those over 6ft tall. The Dakar, being a single, works pretty hard at anything over 130, and also seems to enjoy destroying tires.

The headwind and uphill gradient took its toll, and the fuel consumption for this stretch was terrible. I switched over to reserve about 90km earlier than usual, and Allan only got about 200 km's, as opposed to it's usual 270'odd! He said he was also pretty surprised with the throttle hitting the stop at 120km/hâ?¦.

We pulled into Springbok at about 4pm. Being a public holiday, the pavements had been rolled up, and the town was pretty much shut. (or maybe itâ??s always like thatâ?¦.). I hadnâ??t been able to get hold of the guy at the Orange River campsite at which we were going to overnight, so wasnâ??t sure whether there would be food or booze available. No luck on the booze at Springbok (weâ??d have to rely on the 4 litres of emergency whisky rations that we carried with us), but Al did manage to track down some chops marketed under the label "lamb", but of which the real origins were not apparent.

Springbok â?? Noordoewer (Orange River) 100km

After the previous stretch, this one was a breeze, heading steadily downhill toward the river. The wind had dropped quite a bit too! The last 20km before the river are pretty spectacular. The road winds down through a really barren rocky mountain pass, Vyfmylpoort (or something to that effect). The rocks are a burnt orange colour, and radiate a good amount of heat.

Around the last corner, and there was the Orange River!

We were camping on the South African side, at a campsite at which we had previously spent a few uproarious New Years Eve parties, Oewerbos. We headed onto our first stretch of dirt road��.the real trip had really begun!
The campsite is about 30km along the dirt road which, although a little rocky and potholed, was pretty firm under wheel. We had almost reached the turn-off, when we passed the local general dealer type storeâ?¦..which was open! Excellent â?? cold beer! We had to be pretty inventive when trying to find some space on the bikes to carry the stuff. We bought some of their homemade boerewors as well â?? the woman behind the counter guaranteed that weâ??d be back for more. She wasnâ??t far wrong â?? they really know how to make the stuff up there!

About 2km further down the road (the last 100m was really badly corrugatedâ?¦.or so we thought. We had no idea that this section would be like a bowling green compared to some of the stuff in store for us over the next few days!), we turned off into the farm fields, and down to Oewerbos. The campsite is really well maintained, with lovely green lawns, accompanied by trees for shade. Finally made it, just in time for the great sunset over the river, after 9 hours on the road.

Bikes were quickly unpacked, and tents set up. I hadn't used mine for some time and, as luck would have it, the elastic holding the one of the sets of poles together snapped as I pulled them out of the bag. The only way to set the thing up was to feed one piece though at a time. This little exercise lost its appeal after 10 seconds, and my daily fight with the tent provided Allan with an endless source of entertainment for the rest of the trip. (his minute little tent took about 1 minute to set upâ?¦.)

The evening quickly turned pretty cold, with lots of dew. After a braai and quaffing the frosties (and dipping into the "emergency" whiskey rations), we turned in pretty early, quite knackered after the long day's ride.

My extravagant purchase of a self-inflating mattress was well worth it - these bones are getting too old to sleep on the ground!

 

[Sam]

Day 2. Noordoewer - Luderitz. 446km - 8 hours

Noordoewer - Rosh-Pina. 145km

We woke up pretty early the next morning - anyone who has camped on the river would know that the birdlife doesn't leave you much option. The morning was pretty clear, with a good layer of dew covering everything.

Re-packing, and checking that all was strapped on securely, took a little longer than expected, and we only got to the border at about 10.00. The red-tape on the SA side went pretty quickly, but there was a lengthy queue on the Namibian side. After pasting on our "friendly" border smiles, and shelling over R100 for the vehicle permit, we finally got onto the road at about 11.00. They're not very efficient - amazingly enough, every person that arrived in the office had to ask the one person behind the counter for the forms that had to be filled in.

We stopped briefly for fuel and food just after the border, and eagerly got under way.

We'd travelled the first 50 or so Km quite a few times before on river trips, and were quite surprised to find that they had tarred about 20km of the section. We hit the dirt soon enough though, and got into the swing of things pretty quickly. (the transition from tar to dirt always seems to take a little whileâ?¦). The scenery here is pretty amazing - this area must have been the flood plain for the Orange River millennia ago. It's extremely desolate, with absolutely no vegetation apparent. It's pretty difficult to imagine that the river is only about 5km away from here.

The road was well graded, so we trundled along at reasonable rate. Past Anzenkehr, a massive irrigation project growing table grapes (it's pretty strange to see all the greenery amongst this scenery.), and the road made its way back down to the river. Allan had been riding behind me, and had obviously gathered quite a bit of dust, while I had stayed pretty clean. I felt a little like Naas Botha at a muddy Newlands match - you know, while every other player was so covered in mud that you couldn't make out which team they were from, Naas looked like an advert for the "after" shot in an Omo washing powder advert!

The next 130km or so was great - the road was well graded, twisty and the scenery was great. We only came across one car during the whole stretch, so we really had the roads to ourselves. The road winds along the river for some time, past a couple of small mining operations and farms (all of which looked pretty deserted - we didn't see one other person along the way), before heading up into the mountains. I would say that this ride on this stretch was one of the most enjoyable of the trip - the spirits were soaring!

After about an hour and a half, the road ended, and turned onto the main Oranjemund route. The road conditions changed immediately, with more gravel, and corrugations in patches. After gassing it up quite a steep section (good fun- back wheel spinning out, bike on the move!), the bike got a mind of it's own all of a sudden, and started heading off on it's own route across the road. I couldn't figure out what was going on, until I realised that the road a deteriorated into one mass of corrugations. Suspension clearly overwhelmed, the wheels were hardly touching the ground!

We battled on for about another 10km, and then pulled off for a rest. The pictures don't really do this justice to this nasty stretch. In addition to the corrugations, the surface had broken up into loose gravel - always fun on a bike!

We were still debating why the surface would have changed so much in a short distance, when the first answer came trundling down the road at about 100km/h. A fully loaded 18 wheeler, clearly on it's way down to Oranjemund. At that speed, with that load, they clearly pounded the road into oblivion!

After a short break, we headed off again. We knew that it was only about 25km to Rosh-Pinah, so we could afford to keep the speed down. It was one of those roads where, no matter whether you were going dead slow or flat out, it just wouldn't work. Two more fully loaded trucks came barrelling down in the opposite direction, and two cars overtook us, also heading in the same direction. The dust clouds were incredible, and I eventually had to slow to about walking pace to see where I was going - high beam on (hoping that oncoming traffic wasn't overtaking on our side), and nervously eyeing the mirrors for cars coming up behind us - there was no way that they would have seen us in time to slow down.

We eventually made it into Rosh-Pinah at about 2pm. The town was very small, appearing pretty new, and was very clean and orderly. Other than that, nothing much to say about the place.

We stopped for fuel and a bite to eat, attracting quite a couple of curious onlookers.

Rosh-Pinah - Aus. 165km.

We still had about 300km to go for the day, and decided to push on. Once out of Rosh-Pinah, the road turned out to be fantastic! Newly tarred, it was unblemished - not a bump, pothole, anything. For about 60km after leaving RP, the road wound through what must have been the foothills of the mountains from which we had just come. The hills obviously did a good job of blocking any wind, as there wasn't a breath. Fantastic riding!

Eventually the road wound out onto flat grassland plains, and became pretty monotonous, although the scenery and space remained excellent. I think I counted three cars on the road for the distance. We had the road to ourselves! The temperature had also begun to drop, and the heated-grips proved to work pretty well!

After counting down the distance markers and mentally calculating time to arrival (well, it's one way to keep yourself occupied on long straight roads), we arrived at Aus at about 4pm. This was a really small rural town, very dry, with not very many people in sight. We cruised in on the quiet streets, and found the petrol station. It's the first "non-branded" one I've ever seen (iow - it wasn't a BP, Shell, Engen or the like), simply being called the "Aus One Stop" (I wonder what Engen would have to say about the name).

We also came across the only other bikes that we were to see on our trip. Two Gauteng 1200 Beemers, one a GS, and the other an Adventure. They had just arrived from Ai-Ais, and were also on their way to Luderitz. Chatting to them, they told us that they would be heading back on the same route that we had just followed, the following day. We warned them about the stretch of road outside RP, being still freshly burned into our memories, but they seemed unperturbed. We were quite surprised at this, as one of them was carrying a pillion? Only much later in our trip, once we had seen and ridden the roads over which they had just ridden, did we realise that they hadn't come across anything that would compare. Hope they made it alright.

An Overland truck pulled up while we were filling up, and the Spanish tourists asking about our trip and route set the theme for the rest of the trip. People seemed really interested / curious, and we didn't suffer from a lack of conversation!

Aus - Luderitz. 127km

We pushed on from Aus, eager to get to our destination for the day. About 10km outside Aus, the road started heading down-hill toward the cost, dead straight as far as the eye could see. The surrounding landscape had now turned into golden grass plains, and after about 30km we were lucky enough to spot one of the feral horses that roam the plains galloping at full speed about 100m parallel to the road. An amazing sight! Also noticing that there are no game fences along these roads, it also reminded me that it was a good idea to keep a close eye on the road ahead for crossing wildlife! As you can see in the following photos, we didn't see a heck of a lot of other traffic on the road.

We were heading into the setting sun, and the reflection from the grass plains was truly amazing. It looked like the reflection of the sun off a massive lake. The grass was like silk to the touch.

About 30km after these pictures, we crested a rise in the road, and the landscape transformed dramatically into a sand desert, with tortured volcanic rock formations. Diamond country! We passed a couple of signs reminding people that it wasn't permitted to stop on the side of the road.

We passed a warning sign for wind, and 20 seconds later, behold, a howling side wide made it's appearance. A further 5km down the road, and we passed another for "sand", and 20 seconds later the road disappeared under a wind-driven carpet of sand. The sign people clearly know their stuff here!

After tacking through the wind for another 30 or so km, we finally arrived in Luderitz. We rode around the town looking for much needed beer, before heading off to Shark Point, our camping site for the night. The town was quite an eclectic mix of old German style architecture and modern industrial, and was quite a bit busier than the others passed through that day.

Beer mission accomplished, we skirted the harbour to get to the campsite, passing some impressive mansions along the way. We arrived at Shark Point - I thought that there was some mistake - it looked like a deserted beach parking lotâ?¦..! The thought of heading back to town and finding a B&B for the night immediately crossed my mind, but after riding around, we were happy to find other campers on the leeward side of the campsite, which looked slightly more welcoming than the entrance!

Unpack bikes, set up tents (#*&*%# tent polesâ?¦..) and settle down for a well deserved beer. A dinner of bully-beef bean curry and rice (I'll spare you the photo's), and we were out cold at about 9pmâ?¦..loooonnngg day.

 

[Sam]

Day 3. Luderitz - Betta. 330km - 9 hours

We awoke to a pretty spectacular sunrise. Looking north across the bay, one could see the red dunes of the Namib glowing - quite an amazing sight.

Although the campsite may have looked a little dusty and run down, it was very well looked after - no litter anywhere, and the ablution block was absolutely spotless.

Eager to get on the road again (this was supposed to be one of the shorter days of the trip), we packed up (this exercise was getting a little quicker too), and headed off to explore the "ghost" town of Kohlmanskop. We stopped for fuel on the outskirts of the town, only to see one of the biggest diesel slicks I've ever seen. A truck must have dumped about 100l of the stuff, and the entire outbound lane was covered for about 100m. Wouldn't have liked to come across that in the dark!

The wind had dropped quite a bit since the night before, and the 20 minute trip out through the dunes was quite pleasant. One has to purchase a permit to enter Kohlmanskop, as the area falls within the "diamond zone". While I think that this is done to add a little to the experience, I still found myself walking around doing the "chameleon" - one eye on the scenery, and one on the ground scouting for the "mooi klippe", stopping every now and then to bend down and check the laces on my boots, which had none!

This town was founded solely on the back of alluvial diamond finds, and was slowly abandoned after richer deposits were discovered further south. Having a look at where this place was situated, it was pretty clear that there could be only one reason for people wanting to live here - money....

We wondered around the deserted houses for about an hour. There was one pretty well preserved example, but the rest had slowly succumbed to the desert sands reclaiming their space.

The hub of the town was, of course, the casino. This was basically a large hall, with a restaurant, gym etc, etc. Although there couldn't have been a heck of a lot to do there in the old days, the people clearly found ways of keeping themselves busy - there was a collection of old photos on the walls of the restaurant, amongst which was one of a Nazi rally back in '37. One quite easily forgets the historic relationship with Germany that the country once shared.

After an excellent fry-up (gonna have to get back to gym after this tripâ?¦..the veal sausage was out of this world!), we hit the road again. We saw the Beemers from the day before standing at the gate, but no sign of the riders.

The trip back to Aus was a rewind of the day before - even the wind was behind us, and it didn't take us long to get back to that hive of activity. After filling up again (at the start of the trip, what with the petrol strike 'n all, we had decided to play it safe, and fill up wherever we had the chance.), we headed out in search of the C13 toward Helmeringshausen.

Having only experienced one Namibian dirt road so far, we were about to learn that, just because a road was designated as a main route, didn't mean that it was necessarily an Autobahn! (this was a "C" road. Further through the trip, we passed signposts for roads with "F" (a rutted farm track) and "P" (a gate in the game fence - we couldn't actually see any indication that anyone had ever taken a vehicle further than the gate!) designations). About 1km onto the road, which seemed pretty well graded, we hit a about a 200m stretch of soft sand - nothing like a little adrenaline to wake you up!

The road improved a lot after that, and was hard packed, with very little surface gravel. We managed to cruise along at a reasonable speed for about 50km.

We had heard of a detour off this road, the D707, which ran through a section of the Nauklaft National Park, and was well worth it for the scenery. Although it was a detour, the actual distance to where we were heading wasn't any longer - about 125km - how bad could it be? We stopped for a break at the intersection of the C13 and D707, and as we were about to head off again, Allan noticed the silencer on the AT moving around quite a bit. Upon further inspection, it turned out that the bracket bolt holding the pipe on had vibrated off. This was a problem - it's a aftermarket pipe, and it only has this one mounting point.

Unfortunately I had no spare 10mm bolts in my kit, and the only way to temporarily repair the bracket, was to use a cable-tie. Not wanting to unpack all of my kit to remove the side-panel, I cheated, and managed to thread the tie around the frame and bracket - it seemed to hold tightly enough. (more on that laterâ?¦!)

We headed off down the D707 - the repair on the AT seemed to be working pretty well, with only a little rattling coming from the bracket.

The road was pretty good, and wound past a couple of farmhouses and road repair camps. We both noticed that we got some strange looks from the workers on the side of the road, but didn't think much of it - there can't be many motorcycles pass this way, so it must have been a little of a curiosity for them.

The road headed toward distant orange dunes, with the surrounding landscape gradually changing to the same colour. The contrast between the silky grass and the orange sand made for some pretty impressive scenery. The surface of the road was becoming gradually softer and, although there was a degree of shakin' and snakin', it wasn't anything unmanageable.

We came across two Gemsbok grazing at the fence alongside the road They took fright and galloped away. Gemsbok are pretty hardy and unafraid, and these two stopped about 100m from the road, gazing curiously at us (we were doing the same to them!), and didn't seemed too perturbed by our presence.

We were now coming closer to the dunes that we had previously seen in the distance, and the sand on the road was becoming softer with every kilometre. We had slowed quite a bit as the bikes were becoming quite a handful, when I hit a really soft stretch. Sand riding is pretty much an acquired taste, one which I have not yet acquired! Virgin sand with no ruts doesn't pose too much of a problem - just hit the gas, light up the back wheel, and let the bike do what it wants. However, when you hit ruts, the front seems to get a mind of it's own!

In this case, I was stuck in the right-hand rut - the sand became soft pretty quickly, and the bike started bogging down. I tried to give it gas to lift the front, but it had already decided to skip the burm to have a look at the left-hand rut. The rear wheel, not wanting to be left out, decided to catch up, using the right-hand rut, to have a look what all the fuss was about. Blam - biker down! Fortunately the sand was really soft, and most of the speed had scrubbed off, so the landing wasn't too bad. However, having one's leg trapped under the bike, with petrol spewing everywhere, isn't a great feeling. Managed to wriggle out, and waited for Al to give a hand to lift the beast. (having spent a couple of days at the physio for a bad back, before leaving, I wasn't too keen to try myself. Have done that before - and knew what to expect!) Al is of the size that comes in extremely handy when it comes to shifting heavy goods, and between the two of us, the AT was shortly rightside up. Crashbars scraped a little, but no damage.

We were starting to become a little concerned - the road was deteriorating, we weren't making very good time, and it was starting to get late. We contemplated turning around, but decided that we had come to ride, so carried on going. The road was now running parallel to the dunes, and the going was pretty tough!

Riding behind Al on the Dakar, it seemed quite a bit more nimble than the AT. About 30kg lighter, and with the low centre of gravity (fuel tank under the saddle), he seemed to be finding the going a little easier than me. The wind had now dropped completely, and the temperature had risen considerably. For the first time since owning the bike, the cooling fan came on while the bike was on the move. (actually, it was also the first time that the gauge had made to half-way on the move as well.). Clearly the bikes were taking some strain slogging through the soft stuff.

It was about at this moment that my silencer really started banging about - my temporary "fix" was starting to loosen, and when I looked down, it had already pretty much slipped all the way off the header pipes. I was worried that if it came off all the way, it would swivel on the rear bracket and dig into the roadâ?¦..not quite sure what would happen if it did, but I don't think that it would have turned out well. Al was about 200m ahead, so I decided to stop and try to work the pipe back onto the headers.

Now, in the past I have warmed my hands on the silencer during stops on cold morning rides. You can hardly feel the heat through gloves. So, I stopped, grabbed the pipe, and proceeded to wiggle it further onto the headers. After about 3 seconds, my hand started to get a little warm, and after5 seconds, the inner lining of my glove started melting onto my fingers. The velcro straps on Lookwell's are pretty sturdy, costing me about another 5 seconds to rip the glove off and turf it across the road. By now, Al had turned around and was heading back - I could see the questioning look in his eyes when he saw the glove go flyingâ?¦..! I suppose, on hindsight, maybe the fact that slogging through the soft stuff with the motor spinning could have been a clue that things might have been a tad warmer than usualâ?¦!

The result of my folly (photo taken that night)

For the next few days after this stupidity, I was wondering why the muscles on the side of my hand were stiff and sore�� until I noticed that I was having to use my pinky to operate the front brakes!

Anyway, by now the sun had started setting behind the hills. We had seen only one car the whole day, and had just passed another, a burnt out wreck on the side of the road. Not exactly the kind of place where we would want to spend the night. After what seemed an eternity, the D707 finally joined up with the C13 again. We worked out that it had taken us approximately 5 hours to travel 120km! The road, however, didn't improve one hell of a lot!

By now we were riding in twilight, and decided to stop and change our tinted visors for clear ones. At this point Al discovered that, although wrapped in soft fabric, his clear lens had been rubbing against something in his Camelbak, and had become pretty much totally opaque. Added to this was the fact that the low charge warning light, that I had installed when the AT's voltage regulator was rebuilt, was starting to glow red (ie battery not charging properly), conditions for a night right were looking particularly unappealing. Greatâ?¦.

Although we were reasonably prepared for a road camp (although running a little low on water supplies.) we were hoping that this option could be avoided.

There was nothing for it, but to push on. We were travelling pretty slowly, and luckily the AT has pretty mean headlights (although, with the battery not charging properly, it meant that things would start dimming after about an hour), so I could still see the way ahead pretty well.

It had been our intention to camp at Duiseb Castle, but that must have been a good 50km further along the road. At about 6.30, we eventually saw the signs for the Betta campsite, and decided that this was as far as we were going.

It turned out to be a pretty good choice - the campsite and ablutions were immaculate, and the youngster running the place was very helpful and friendly. He opened the shop for us, and we grabbed ice cold beers while he defrosted braai meat for us. While we were chatting, he told us that the burnt out wreck that we had passed had been rolled by a tourist a couple of weeks before. It apparently burst into flames after rolling about 5 times - he must have been moving it, and was pretty banged up, but survived.

Fortunately, the campsites were surrounded by low rock walls, with a roof covering, so we decided that we wouldn't be setting up tents that night. The braai and beers went down extremely well, and the stars were absolutely amazing - no moon, and being in the middle of nowhere, there was no ambient light to spoil the view. Each campsite had a "viewing deck" on the roof, so we once again broke into the "emergency" whiskey supplies, and climbed to enjoy the night skies. After a while, I wasn't sure whether all the stars were in the night sky, or whether some of them were as the result of consuming a large quantity of the Irish nectar! I do recall the strobe mode being used for entertainment after a while - the camp guy must have been left wondering what the heck these "souties" we up to!

We were lights-out minutes after hitting the sack, but this night proved to be the coldest of the whole trip. Space being at a premium, we had only packed lightweight thermal gear, which didn't seem to be doing the job. We figured out that this could have been because the Cape Storm gear is "active wear", and that perhaps lounging around quaffing beer didn't qualify as "active" in their books. Even through a layer of thermals, two fleece tops and a tee-shirt, I still froze my butt off!

 

[Sam]

Betta - Sesriem. 130km

We woke up pretty early the following morning - it was pretty damn cold! Whether by design, or by accident, our unpacking of the previous evening had left all of the coffee-making implements within reach, and we didn't even have to get out of our sleeping bags to start the brew!

So, we ended up wrapped up in our sleeping bags, drinking coffee, watching the spectacular sunrise. Hard lifeâ?¦!

The desert bird-life really gets going at sunrise, with hundreds of little birds doing their rounds, making quite a noise. They don't seem to be too phased by people, and we had more than a couple scavenging right around us.

Fortunately the farmer had quite a well stocked workshop, and I quickly found a good supply of 10mm bolts to repair the AT silencer bracket, and take one or two as spares. At the same time, after having to unpack the entire bike, I checked for any loose wire on the voltage regulator and battery. Equally fortunately, the charging problem turned out to be the nut on the positive terminal of the battery that had worked itself loose (not the first time that has happened - doesn't seem to make a difference how much thread-lock one usesâ?¦.), and once tightened, the warning light went out. Repairs on the rider were equally successful, although lancing the blisters in order to get a glove on my hand wasn't too much fun - the Leatherman blade wasn't exactly the most precise of surgical instruments!

We were still pretty concerned at how slow progress on these roads could be, and even though this was to be the shortest leg of our trip, we were eager to get away as early as possible. After filling up, we hit the C14 toward Sesriem. Although we had booked at camp sight at Tsauchab for that night, not knowing what the road conditions ahead would be, we decided to make call whether or not to push through once we arrived at Sesriem.

The road out of Betta was reasonably good, but the surface condition changed frequently, and with little warning. Hard packed with no ruts one moment, and soft with deep ruts the next. We managed to keep up a reasonable pace, but were constantly weary of the dreaded "soft patch" that could be around the next corner. There was very little traffic on the road, with only one or two cars passing in the opposite direction.

The road headed across the plains around Betta, and then slowly wound its way through another mountain range. The twists and turns were great, and once again the spirits were soaring. The corrugations were bad in places, but mainly on the steeper sections.

At one stage an Impala bounded out of the low scrub on the side of the road, and ran ahead of us for about 3km. We'd slowed down to about 40 - 50 km/h, as it had crossed the road in front of us a couple of times, but even at this speed, the buck stayed ahead of us without seeming to strain at all. It eventually found a break in the game fence and disappeared from sight.

We arrived at the turn-off for Wolvedans after about 60km and stopped for a break. So far, so good - we were managing to keep up a reasonable pace. The road ahead headed toward a distant low mountain range, crossing over rocky plains on the way, before disappearing in the distance.

A couple of people that I know had warned me about this stretch of road heading into Sesriem. The surface had become very loose, covered with sharp gravel, which apparently was renowned for causing punctures. Nothing to it but to hit the road again - we'd been making good time, and so could afford to take it easy.

After about 10km, the surface gravel became thicker, and much to our disappointment, the dreaded corrugations made their reappearance. The surface had already deteriorated to a condition worse than that which had given us problems heading into Rosh Pinah two days before. These were the conditions that gave me the worst time (worse than the soft sand). You really struggle to get into a rhythm - to fast and the suspension (and the rider..!) became overwhelmed, with the bike getting a mind of its own. Too slow, and the corrugations end up throwing you around the bike - VERY tiring!

This was the first place that we noticed people in the passing cars taking photos of us - two travelling in the opposite direction even stopped on the side of the road to do so. I must admit, with the bumps and gravel, the back-ends of the bikes were all over the show, which must have been making for some good photo opportunities. Good for the ego!

Passing cars had become a little more frequent the closer to Sesriem one got. Some were courteous and safety-conscious, slowing a little when passing, but others either didn't give a damn, or had no idea of the size of the rocks that they were kicking up, and kept the "peddle to the metal". (I had one the size of a cricket ball miss my head by inches, kicked up by a Land Cruiser coming in the opposite direction, travelling at about 120km/h - nice) Ah well, I suppose it takes all kindsâ?¦.

Eventually we arrived at Sesriem. By this time it had become pretty hot and, believe me, after that stretch of road (quite easily put down as the most difficult of the trip) we were pretty bushed. The petrol station and shop at Sesriem was a hive of activity, with plenty of Overland trucks and tourists- intermingled with some gorgeous lasses! Being filthy, and smelling rather ripe by this stage, the admiring glances (a polite way of putting it) definitely weren't reciprocated!. We had pretty much been the only people at the campsites over the last 3 nights, and hadn't seen a heck of a lot a people since starting in CT three days ago - good to see people again!

We were ravenous by this time (somehow the muesli bar that morning didn't cut it!). Fortunately the shop stocked all the necessary ingredients for the mother of all chip butties - freshly baked bread and "slap" chips. Yeah! We found the nearest piece of shade, plonked down, and tucked in. We were on the receiving end of a couple of curious glances - I wonder why..?! Heh, heh!

After sating our hunger, we had a decision to make. Either we could overnight here, and head to Sossusvlei in the morning, head to Tsauchab River and return the next morning, or carry on to Solitaire. Fortunately our decision was made easier by the mini sandstorm that had picked up, and the bleakness of the Sesriem campsite - camping here was out. We weren't sure what the road ahead was like, but when booking at Tsauchab, we'd been advised that 4 x 4's were recommended, so we took the "easy" way out, and decided to carry on to Solitaire.

Sesriem - Solitaire. 70km

We pulled out on the C14 toward Solitaire, a mere 70km away. Sesriem and Sossusvlei are obviously on the main tourist route, so we were caught up in a reasonable amount of traffic on the way out. The dust clouds were pretty bad, but fortunately the road, although still broken up in places, was a VAST improvement over the condition of the road coming in. We kept up a good pace, but were ever mindful of the nasty habit of the surface condition to change without any warning.

We hooked up with the C19, which is clearly a main route to this area, with direct access to both Windhoek and Walvis Bay. The condition was good, (maybe this was one of the "dirt highways" that we'd heard about!) but with enough corrugations on the uphill sections to provide entertainment. Muphy's law always dictates that the worst bumps and holes are always on your side of the road on stretches with approaching blind rises, or oncoming traffic, so that you can't avoid them! More tourists taking photos - ego increasing in size! Once we'd crossed the hills, the road really turned into a "dirt highway" - we managed the best dirt road pace of the trip (I was gatvol by this stage)

It didn't take long to get to Solitaire, which is really only a petrol station, lodge and campsite. The weather was great - warm and absolutely no wind. Unfortunately the store had run out of braai meat and firewood (it was a Sunday), but fortunately had a good stock of ice-cold Tafel lager (the beer of choice for the trip!)

It didn't take long to unpack and pitch the tents, and for Allan to discover that the headlight mountings of the Dakar had obviously not enjoyed the treatment at the hands of the corrugations during the day, with one of them calling it quits. I'll let him fill you in on the details of the wonderful quality of BMW torx bolts, but needless to say, duct tape was the solution of the moment! BMW's use of "stylists" to design bikes, as opposed to the engineers employed by Honda, has been the topic of a couple discussions since!(who else would use plastic srews and "one-turn" tin fasteners to put one togetherâ?¦?!?) We headed down to the view site to watch the sunset - good call - it was spectacular!

The temperature had definitely risen the further north we got, and the night was pretty comfortable (we didn't have to use 4 layers of clothing to keep warm!)

 

[Sam]

Day 5. Solitaire - Swakopmund. 290km - 6 hours (approx)

Solitaire - Walvis Bay 235km

The weather the next morning was warm and wind-free. We couldn't start the day without having the famous Solitaire apple-pie for breakfast. My oath - each helping is the size of a paving brick. Definitely a good source of energy for the day ahead!

We filled up with fuel, and fielded a couple of questions from the occupants of an Overland truck about to leave. They had travelled via the same route as us the previous day, and were obviously a little curious about what the road was like on bikes. As they were leaving, one of the women asked the guide where we were from, to which he replied "only South Africans would be dumb enough to do this on a bike.."! Yup - thatâ??s us!

The road was a vast improvement over yesterday's start, and we passed a couple of graders (I seem to remember about 3). Being a main route, it must have been lavished with a little more TLC than the lesser routes. The road undulated quite a bit, and the only real rough patches were on the uphill sections again. We caught another couple of passing cars, and a bus, taking snaps of us - started feeling like a chimpâ?¦!

We arrived at the Tropic of Capricorn, stopping to admire the vast tropical jungle surrounding us. A French couple had stopped while we were there, and after chatting for a while about the upcoming rugby World Cup (shame - they still thought that their team would actually winâ?¦), asked if they could take a photo of us. They did, and said they'd email a copy to us when they arrived back in France - we received it about two weeks later!

We arrived at the Gaub River pass, and the change in landscape was pretty marked. The rocks of the canyon were black in colour (appeared very volcanic in nature), with very little evidence of any vegetation. The pass itself was pretty tight, with loads of blind corners, which forced us to keep the speed down. The number of cars passing in both directions had increased a lot compared to the roads over the last few days.

Once through the pass, the road heads out into rolling plains again. There wasn't much wind, and the dust clouds from the traffic hung over the road for quite a while, making visibility a problem in places - we ended up chewing quite a bit of dirt!

Back onto the plains again for a short while before reaching the Kuiseb Canyon pass. I was curious to see what the area was like, as Allan had mentioned a book that he'd read (The Sheltering Desert by Henno Martin) about two German living in SWA during WW2. They'd decided that, rather than spend the war in internment camps, they would wait out the war here in this desert. I subsequently read the book, and after seeing the place, I'm astounded that anyone could have lasted for the two and a half years that they did!

The rapid changes in the landscape throughout the trip was spellbinding - the sandy, flat plains were less than 20km behind us. This broken, rugged landscape now stretched as far as the eye can see - it's not difficult to see why the cops didn't manage to track them down!

From here the road wound through the hills for some time, and after a near miss at an unmarked high speed Ostrich crossing (saw the first one, didn't notice the other three until the crossed about 15 meters ahead of me, at high speed�� for no apparent reason, the were in a great rush to get to the whole lot of nothing on the other side of the road) we eventually rolled onto the flat coastal plains on the way to Walvis. The sand here is covered with mica, and glitters amazingly in the sun (I still remember the sandstorms here - the wind carries the sand about 40km out to sea, and when the setting sun catches the mica, it looks like someone has tipped out a giant container of glitter - really spectacular!).

The smell of the sea in the distance really started a rush of memories, and after cruising along the smooth road (we passed another two graders at work) we spotted Rooikop in the distance. Allan, for his sins, spent a good couple of months cooling his heels out here!

We had planned to stop at the old base, which is a couple of km off the main road, but when we got closer we decided not to, as it appeared to still be very much in use. We weren't sure how happy the Namibian army would be having two bikers casing out their base....

Past the massive hulk of Dune 7 (we'd both spent enough hours there in the past for it not to be on our list of places to visit!) and into Walvis. The place hasn't changed much - the sewerage works are still the first thing that you smell / see. We decided to take a short detour to see whether my old base was still around. It was no surprise to see that all that remains is an open, sandy plot.(as an aside, dunno how many of you know, but Walvis Bay used to be part of the Cape Province (as it was known back when) - the car reg plates were prefixed "CWB" - Cape - Walvis Bayâ?¦)

Heading along the coast road to Swakop, we were assailed by the strong afternoon coastal wind, as well as the sand that accompanies it. It really brought back some memories -one of them being crossing the bridge over the dry Swakop River - there was an UNTAG border post here in '89 & '90, and memories of BS'ing our way through as "students on holiday" (on our way to the pub in Swakop) sprang to mind!

We were sleeping at the municipal bunglaws in Swakop for the next two nights, and after rapidly unpacking the bikes, headed off in search of some cold beer.

The touristy section of Swakop is really scenic, with very German / Alpine influences apparent in the architecture. We stopped in town, and walked around for a while, before heading off to a pub that we'd spotted along the way. As we pulled away from our parking, I heard a bang and, looking behind me, saw Allan stopped on the side of the road. The "beak" had decided to part company from his front mudguard - the roads over the past two days had done a good job of loosening all the bolts holding it on (y'know, the tin one's that the Beemer "stylists" had decided would be a good idea to useâ?¦). Anyway, it came in useful just a couple of minutes later when the setting sun was shining in his eyes! (another Beemer "lifestyle" accessoryâ?¦? Heh, hehâ?¦.)

We cruised around for a while looking for a good dinner spot, and eventually settled for the Swakop Brauhaus. Almost made the mistake of ordering the eisbien, but fortunately saw one being delivered to the next table before we ordered - it looked like the entire hindquarters of the beasty! We settled for the pork (the names always sound a lot better in German, but escape memory really easily), which was about a third of the size, and we still struggled to finish! Absolutely no space left for the Weisse bier. Great evening.

 

[Sam]

Day 6. Surrounds of Swakopmund. 200km .

After a little early morning BMW surgery (amazing what a couple of cable-ties and duct tape can do!) and breakfast we headed off back in the direction of Walvis for a little dune sightseeing.

The road runs between the dunes and the sea, and with the clear early morning with no wind, the view was great!

The view from the top of the seaward dunes was unreal. With no wind and the cold air, you could see for miles! We wondered how these dunes compared to those over which the Paris-Dakar racers have to cross - the drop-off of the one on which we were standing was radical, and I could just imagine cresting something like this at high speed, surely a recipe for disaster!

The peace was spoilt a bit by the quad-bike tour that was in the area at the time, but I suppose it's different strokes for different folksâ?¦.

From here we headed back to Walvis, planning to take trip down memory lane, and head off to the salt pans to have a look at the flamingos. Walvis hasn't changed all that much over the 18 odd intervening years since we were last here, but has definitely become a lot busier. I remember the place being like a ghost-town in the afternoons, but now the place was buzzing. Still as ugly as ever! Amazing though, how sights and smells bring on the memories��almost 18 years have passed since we were stationed here, but it feels like yesterday!

We headed down to the salt pans, but the flamingos were quite far out, so the photo opportunities weren't great. From there we took another turn through the town, heading down to the harbour to see whether the old Marines / Naval base, where I spent the last few months of my time in '89, was still there. It turns out that it was, and is now a Namibian Naval base��news to me - I had no idea that they had a navy! Anyway, our presence outside the gate seemed to be attracting the attention of the guards, so we didn't hang around reminiscing for very long. Nostalgia satisfied, we headed back to Swakop. On the way you pass a demonstration on how not to dock your trawler�..!

After a grabbing a bite to eat, we decided to head out toward Henties Bay. There seems to be quite a lot of construction taking place on the outskirts of Swakop, and trying find our way out of the town proved to be quite time consuming - the detour signs pretty much led one in a circle. We finally found the road to Henties, which turned out to be quite a smooth salt road. The scenery north of Swakop is dramatically different to that further south, with no dunes and flat white sand desert as far as the eye can see. It was about 3pm by this stage, and a cold wind had picked up, making the ride pretty unpleasant. We decided to call it quits and turned back after we got about halfway there. The events of the following day proved that this might have been a more fortunate decision than we thought!

Back to town for a couple of cold pints and a good dinner!

We headed down to the beach area, known as the Mole (pronounced sort of like "mooler"). This was apparently the breakwater built ages ago when they were trying to develop a harbour. The harbour plan didn't work out to well, as the current constantly filled the bay with sand, making it to shallow to be of any use. They actually built a lighthouse or two right at the point, but the heavy seas apparently took care of the last one within two days of completion - flattened!! This picture is taken from the spot where the lighthouse would have stood. You can see the replacement in the distance - clearly a more protected position!

We spent the evening at the Lighthouse Pub, which was pretty festive, and seemed to be one of the busier places in town. Great food too!

 

[Sam]

Day 7. Swakopmund - Windhoek. 467km - 6 hours (approx)

We packed up early the following morning, and headed out toward Windhoek. Fortunately finding the road out was an easier exercise than trying to find the road to Henties the previous day.

The weather was great, cool with clear skies, and a comfortable tail wind. This was the first time we'd been on an open tar route since leaving Aus three days earlier, and we were soon ticking along at about 140km/h. (I'd almost forgotten what it was like to ride faster than 80km/h, constantly on the lookout for potholes, loose sand and the likeâ?¦.)

We'd been going for about 100km, when I noticed that Al had pulled of the road quite a way back. I suspected that there was something amiss, and after heading back, my suspicions were confirmed - a front wheel blow out. He looked a little shaken, and told me that he'd felt the front weave a little, looked down and couldn't see anything amiss, so opened up again. The front tyre let rip about 2 seconds later, with the cop car that was busy lining him up to overtake at the time missing him by inches. The sight of the flailing bike in front of them clearly didn't leave them too perturbed, and they carried on into the distance at a rate of knots. Lucky for the run-off space that went as far as the eye could see. (a front tire blow-out killed a Dakar rider on the way back from the GS Challenge a couple of weeks later, after he lost control and hit a barrier on the side of the road â?¦..).

Anyway, after the adrenaline had left the system a little, we decided to see whether the puncture would respond to "Get Home Foam" treatment. It was worth the try, and beats the hell out of having to remove the tube to fix the puncture if it works. However, judging by the rapid deflation, we weren't very confident that it would work, and the sight of the foam squirting out of the spoke nipples kinda confirmed our doubts. Anyway, the tyre seemed to be holding pressure and Al hit the road again, only to have pull off rather rapidly when it deflated again about a km down the road��. as he was being overtaken by an 18 wheeler. Likes living on the edge this one�.!

With neither of us ever having had fixed a puncture before, we were a little nervous about how much of a task it would be. Fortunately Al had fitted a centre-stand a couple of months before, so removing the wheel wouldn't be as much of a pain as it would have been if he hadn't. (I still can't believe BMW doesn't fit them as OE on the Daksâ?¦??).

The rather quaint habit of BMW using torx bolts everywhere resulted in Al having to unpack all of his kit, as the torx key required to loosen the pinch bolts was conveniently in the toolkit, which was in the compartment behind the saddle, which was under all of his kit�..! Of course, being the supportive co-rider that mates always are (y'know, like reaching for the camera before helping after a wipe-out and the like�.), I made sure that I wore a pained, impatient look at how long this was all taking�..heh, heh. (he was packed up and ready to go about half an hour before me every morning��.heh, heh�the justice of it!).

The operation ended being a lot easier than we anticipated. We still couldn't figure out what had caused the puncture, which actually turned out to be about a 5cm long split in the tube. There was nothing in the tyre, and our suspicion was that it was actually the tube that had failed. It was a heavy-duty tube, and perhaps after the punishment on the corrugations etc over the last couple of days had led to fatigue, with the higher speed finally leading to failure. I can't help feeling that perhaps the heavy-duty tubes are meant more for enduro, and not designed for sustained high speed cruising.

Anyway, after about 45 minutes Al had finished wrestling with the poor Dakar, and his strewn kit, and we headed off again. We'd decided to make a detour to go and see the "Spitzkoppe", the turn-off for which was a couple of km before Usakos.

Once off the main drag, the dirt road was very well graded (by this time we had realised that the roads on the main tourist routes were well maintained), but the dust was pretty bad. With no wind to speak of, we had to keep about a 1km following distance, and whenever a car came past in the opposite direction we ended up "flying blind" for a couple of minutes (while hoping there wasn't any oncoming overtaking headed our way.) The detour took about 45 minutes, but was well worth it for the scenery.

The Spitzkoppe are volcanic extrusions, and are pretty much the only break in the absolutely flat surrounding landscape for miles. Diamond country?

Back on the main drag, we continued on towards Windhoek. We stopped in for lunch at a garage in Karibib, and as was the case for the whole trip so far, the people went out of their way - after enquiring whether we prayed a lot (I'm sure Al must have said a couple of words aimed "upstairs" when he had the blow-out!),the two ladies working at the garage rustled up a couple of cheese rolls, and dug up some great local chorizo (salami type number). A big difference from the "convenience" store attached to filling stations back home!

It was from Karibib that one noticed that the land was climbing quite a bit. I never really realised that Windhoek is about 1,700m above see level. The road is pretty narrow, and overtaking 18-wheelers doing 120km/h proved to be quite stressful. Had a great moment after lining up a minivan for about 20km, and just as we were about to overtake, an "abnormal load" emerged in the opposite direction��..taking up the entire road�..both lanes�.! Great fun - the adrenaline definitely helps one stay alert on these long sections.

During the day, the landscape had changed from sand desert to grasslands, and had now become bushveld. All very dry. We had quite a chuckle at the warning signs depicting bush-pigs (vlakvarke) crossing, and actually saw one or two along the road.

Once through Okahandja, the roads became quite a bit busier, and just on the outskirts of Windhoek, we came across a police roadblock. It was the usual story of wanting to see drivers licences, and checking the vehicle registrations. Thinking about it afterwards, the fact that there are only one or two roads leaving Windhoek must make their job pretty easy! Al had quite a laugh when he thought the cop couldnâ??t see the license disk, so he pointed it out to him. The cop was actually more interested to see what size the bike was, and replied to Al, "aaah, 650, 650..!" Don't you just love the attention!

Driving into Windhoek, it was bigger than I remember (ok, it was 20 years ago), and is pretty big for it's population of about 250,000. We were staying at the Chameleon Backpackers, and finding our way there was a breeze. I really enjoyed the three-lane highway running around the city - a vast difference from the roads that we were on only a couple of days ago!

The backpackers was well run, with a great bar and swimming pool, and our room was luxury!

After lounging around the pool with a couple of frosties, I headed off for a siesta. Al ended up chatting to an Englishman that was on the last leg of his trip from the UK to Cape Town��..by bicycle�..???? Ah well, it's that "different strokes for different folks"�..

Before leaving Cape Town, quite a few people had recommended Jo's Beerhouse - apparently quite an atmosphere! Anyway, so we headed off, by taxi. (not worth the effort of being arrested for DUI in a "foreign" country!)

What a great place! I also think that it could be what is known in geological terms as an Jaegermeister Hotspot��man, there were bottles of the stuff everywhere (avoided like the plague though - we've had a couple of run-in's in the past�) The food was excellent - I ordered a mixed game espatado, and ended up with a herd of mixed game on a stick - great stuff for us carnivores! The evening was pretty cold, but fortunately there was the biggest brazier we've ever seen, blazing like a good thing! Every now and then, a giant would appear and throw in a couple of half-trees to stoke up the blaze! You could spend some reaaaallll quality time at this place! Even the trip back was quite a hoot - two 6ft + guys crammed into a tiny Korean taxi with three other people! Good end to a good day!

 

[Sam]

Day 8. Windhoek - Hardap. 300km - 5 hours (approx)

Today was to be the shortest of the trip, so we had quite a leisurely, late start.

Both bikes seemed less than enthusiastic to start, which I put down to the altitude - they seemed a little down on power too. No wonder the guys in Jo'burg all ride 990's and 1200's!

The route south out of Windhoek runs through a winding mountain pass, but after all the straight roads, there wasn't much "scratching" to be done! Just outside of Windhoek we spotted the Independence Memorial, and decided to stop in an take a looksee. At first glance, the place looks like a typical "stalanist" war memorial, but after closer inspection, it seemed a little more down to earth, although the grenade-toting statue of Sam was a little over the topâ?¦.?! Ah, well, worth the stop.

Anyway - Southward-hoeâ?¦..! The ride was pretty monotonous, with a lot of dead straight tar road, and a howling cold crosswind. Anyone who's ridden with a peaked helmet knows that wind is not your friend. My neck was knackered by the time we got to Hardap.

Riding through the desolate landscape, it was quite difficult to believe that we were heading to Namibia's biggest dam. We were quite taken aback when we arrived - it was huge. The people at the camp office were extremely friendly, and gave as a full run-down on the dam and surrounds (there was a mini game park that ran along the whole south side.) The buildings were something straight out of the Seventies, and we had a quiet chuckle at the huge map of "South West Africa" hanging in an office of the Namibian government establishment!

The campsite was well maintained, but one got the impression that they ran with a very small budget, and once something was broken, it didn't get fixed.

This was the earliest we'd finished for the whole trip, so we took advantage of some "down-time" - we had a loooonnnggg ride ahead of us tomorrow!

After lazing around until about 5, we went in search of beer and food - apparently the "James Bond" style restaurant opened at six, so we went to check the odds on it opening earlier. No luck! The view from the headland was pretty amazing though. There were a good many Dassies running around too - we were walking across the parking lot toward the restaurant, when this fat little bugger came running along, lining himself up to jump over the surrounding wall. He clearly misjudged, and hit the wall about a foot below the top! We hosed ourselves - you should have seen the "bruised ego" look on it's face, clearly aggravated by our laughing!

Dinner actually turned out to be a pretty "formal" affair, with a uniformed host and hostess waiting at the door to greet patrons. Amazingly enough, they spent the entire time at the door waiting for newcomers, but I had a feeling that pretty much everybody at the dam that evening was at the restaurant about ten minutes after it openedâ?¦.!

Anyway, the dinner was good, and it certainly beats having to rustle up camp chow on a gas cooker...

We headed back to the tents for a nightcap. Worryingly, the "emergency" stocks of scotch were starting to show signs of severe damageâ?¦. We hit the sack early, as the following day was to be a long ride. Along with the tent pole that had broken at the start of the trip, the zip for the door on the tent had now also announced its retirement (definitely time for a new tent). I drifted off, crossing fingers that there were no cold snakes out there seeking warmer accommodation. I have no idea how long we'd been asleep when WWD (World Wrestling - Dassie) broke out, and the little guys had quite a go at each other. They were between us and a lamppost, so the resultant shadow show seen against my tent wall was pretty entertaining - I have no idea what the beef was about, but I suspect it might have been the klutz that jumped into the wall earlier out seeking revenge for us laughing. (hmmmâ?¦maybe less scotch before going to sleep, would keep the imagination at bay!)

 

[Sam]

Day 9. Hardap - Ai-Ais. 530km - 7 hours (approx)

The next day dawned sunny and still. After the wind the previous day, we were hoping it would stay that way. Strategising over a couple of cups of obligatory morning coffee (why does camp coffee always taste so good?), we decided to follow the B1 to Ai-Ais, via Grunau, as opposed to going via Seeheim and the Fish River Canyon. My back tyre was starting to look pretty tired (pun?) when we got to Windhoek and, on hindsight, I made the incorrect call that it would be ok to get me back home, and by now I wasn't too sure that it would be around to see Cape Town again. Anyway, the wear rate seemed to be worse on the gravel than the tar (I think the spinning on the gravel chewed it up quicker), so tar road it was! We were spending a "rest" day at Ai Ais anyway, so the call was to tour to the canyon the following day.

After the usual morning battle to strap all the kit to the bikes, I discovered that, annoyingly, although the shared can of chain-lube was still half full, there was no propellant left to spray it on. 600km on a dry chain didn't bode too well for its survival, but Al had picked up a tip on an adventure site that ATF (automatic transmission fluid) works pretty well, so our first stop was the 1Stop in Mariental. The stuff definitely works well, but, hell, it is messy. The forecourt of that garage is going to bear the scars for a while!

Our wishes for no wind turned out to be unanswered. As was the case the previous day, a spiteful crosswind was blowing from an 11 o'clock position. The gusting is really tiring, and with the roads being very narrow, the "bow wave" of the approaching trucks made staying on the tar quite a tough task. The scenery was pretty bleak, with no break in the scrubby, flat landscape apparent for as far as the eye could see. After a couple of hours of surveying the dry bushveld, Al took pity and stopped to water the floraâ?¦but I don't think it helped much.

We reached Keetmanshoop at around midday, after about 250km of straaaaaiiiiiigggghhhhhhhtttttt (yaaaawwwnnn) road. There was definitely a different feel about this town compared to the others we'd passed though on the trip. Although we only ventured in a little way to fill up the tanks and stomachs, it turned out to be the "lowlight" of the trip. Very dirty, with plenty of drunkards tacking along the streets and, unfortunately, the garage that we picked to stop at was apparently a stopping point for long distance minibus taxis. Quite a rude awakening after the calmness and desolation of the environment through which we'd travelled over the last days. Perhaps I'm being unkind in my summation, as we didn't venture further into the town, but it would, without a doubt, feature on my "never bother to go to again" list.

Back on the road which, although straight as far as the eye could see, offered improved, slightly greener scenery. Travelling religiously at about 120 - 140km/h and about half-an-hour outside town, a police car, travelling at about 160 km/h overtook us. What made this occurrence memorable was that they must have spent about 5 km travelling in the wrong lane after they'd passed us. True to form, about 20 minutes after they'd disappeared from sight, we passed them, and colleagues of theirs, manning a radar trap. Clearly they thought that, as these were motorcycles, we'd be travelling a lot faster, but couldn't do much other than wag their fingers as we cruised passed at 120. Other than their car, we seriously hadn't seen another vehicle for about 100 km on a dead straight road��.revenue building perhaps?

After just enough time to become truly "gatvol" of the tar, we arrived at Grunau, which turned out to be a staging post exactly along the lines of its northern twin, Solitaire. Pretty much a garage, motel and camp-site. "Big Sky" country, with flat grasslands blending into distant hills which, in a nutshell, is the kinda territory I wouldn't mind moving to and opening a General Dealer when the work and city life becomes oppressive��.every now and then!

Not far to go to Ai-Ais which, after a long day on the saddle, had a lot of appeal. About 15km outside Grunau. we finally turned off onto dirt roads again! Wow - so this is what the people were talking about when they referred to the "dirt highways" of Namibia. Wide, well graded, they really showed how poorly maintained the roads earlier on the trip were.(although, I reckon the trip would have been a little boring if they'd all been like thisâ?¦!Masochist , this one!). We managed to cruise along at a fair rate, with the only slight "moments" coming from being blown onto the foot high centre burm (middlemannetjie) by the crosswinds, and having to overtake the oncoming graders at work (I think we passed more on this stretch that we'd seen on the whole trip).

The road slowly meanders down into the hills and, once surrounded by the mountains you quickly hanker after the cooling breeze. After about 45 minutes on the dirt, we arrived at the oasis of Ai-Ais. What a scenic, mellow setting - surrounded by bright orange mountains, palm trees scattered throughout the resort, and a massive blue swimming pool. Needless to say, we were looking forward to a little relaxation here!

Kit was unpacked, and tents pitched in the shortest time possible, we headed down to the heated pool. Absolute bliss. The campsite has a pretty good shop, and cold beers and braai meat were in abundance!

The rest of the evening was spent around the braai, soaking in the stillness and stars. The temperature hovered at around "extremely comfortable" degs C the whole night - what a relaxing atmosphere!

The call on the route might have been a good one, but the Sahara on the AT was really starting to look like it wasn't going to last the rest of the trip. Not much choice, unfortunately, but both tar and gravel were starting to become pretty entertaining, with the squared-off profile and no tread resulting in the back of the bike having a mind of its own.

 

[Sam]

Day 10. Fish River Canyon (Approx 215km)

Aaahhâ?¦. a "rest day", and a trip to one of the places that I'd been looking forward to since starting the trip, the Fish River Canyon! Even waking up was a treat, with the surrounding slopes painted orange by the early morning sun.

It was great just being able to saddle up without having to pack all the kit on the bike. Eager to get back to the camp as early as possible to have some down time for the afternoon, we set off pretty early.

At the gate to the resort, the guard was curious as to whether we were leaving already, as we'd only got there the previous afternoon. When we told him we were heading to Hobas, he asked us whether we could take the mail through to them, a request that we were happy to oblige.

We marvelled again at how great the roads were here, compared to the earlier ones on which we'd ridden. One was easily able to maintain a decent pace, and with the road surface being predictable, it was nice to be able to relax a little, and not have any nasty surprises every five minutes!

The road out of Ai-Ais winds up through the mountains, before reaching a kind of escarpment over which the road to the canyon runs. On route, one begins to get a hint of the treat in store, with a view across the canyon.

The roads from here to the Hobas site were terrific. We stopped at the office to deliver the mail, much to the amusement of the busload of tourists that had arrived there about five minutes before us. It was a great ice-breaker, and we ended up having a long chat to a couple, who were really curious about our trip. As all of them were 50+, I think that there must have been a little envy there too!

The road from the camp to the canyon was wide, but the gravel and soft sand made things a little interesting. We were absolutely amazed at the view when we finally arrived at the viewing site. Neither of us had been here before, and I think that the scenery exceeded both of our expectations, to the point where we are now trying to gather the gang in order to undertake the hike at some point in the near future!

After exploring a little, we decided to use a good opportunity to try to take some pic's on the move��.

From the Canyon, we headed off in seek of some lunch. Al had spotted a sign to the "Canyon Roadhouse" on our way in that morning, so we decided to see what it was like. I must admit, the scene when we arrived there could really have been out of an American movie�.a roadhouse in the middle of the Nevada desert�.just short of a couple of Harley's standing outside! The décor was pretty interesting, with a wall hangings consisting of old radiator grills, hubcaps and shifting spanners, and something I hadn't seen hanging on a wall since '89��an UNTAG number plate! (it used to be a sport to see how many one could swipe back then!) Anyway, it was well worth the detour, even if my ego took a bruising by almost wiping out on a 10m long stretch of soft sand between the restaurant and petrol pump��.!

Having a long day ahead of us tomorrow, we turned back to Ai-Ais for some downtime. The wind had picked up quite a bit since the morning, and the ride back was a little squirrely, having to fight the sidewind to stay off the centre burm, with my bald back tyre adding a degree of excitement!

Of course, a trip out here definitely has to include a photo of a koekerboom / quiver tree, and we came across a couple of excellent photo opportunities along the way.

Lazing was the order of the day when we got back to Ai-Ais - the hot springs are pretty good for sorting out those travel weary muscles. It was difficult to believe that this would be our last night in Namibia - time really flies when you're having fun.

While we were stocking up on "man salad" (â?¦.braai meat) and brandy (the emergency supplies of scotch were running perilously lowâ?¦.) we got to chatting to the lady working in the shop. Turns out that she used to work at Hardap dam before coming here a couple of years before. She was quite curious as what Hardap was like these days, and seemed to know a couple of the people that we'd spoken to there. She also let on that the Ai-Ais resort was being closed for about a year to be refurbished. A real pity in a way - this place has apparently remained pretty much unchanged for many years (other than being rearranged by the occasional flood). One can't help feeling that the days of rustic, reasonably priced campsites are numbered, along with, perhaps, the dirt highways. Sadly for the crew that worked there, the store lady included, they had no idea what was going to become of them while the resort was closed. They were to be transferred to other facilities around the country, but had no idea where yet.

It was pretty amazing at the difference in night-time temperature between this place and the other places where we'd camped in the desert. You could sit around in shorts and t-shirts - a real summer's evening. Of course the evening was finished off by lounging around in the heated pool. Hard lifeâ?¦.

 

[Sam]

Day 11. Ai-Ais - Citrusdal. 650km - 8 hours (approx)

With all good intentions of leaving early, we unfortunately ended up behind a busload of Aussie tourists at breakfast, and only really hit the road at about 10am. The road between here and the border was to be our last piece of dirt road for the trip. The scenery was great, with rolling hills dropping off quite sharply to the Orange River in the distance. The road was in pretty good condition, with just enough loose gravel to wake us up!

After about 80km, we joined up with the main B1 road, heading back to Noordoewer. The last altitude drops off really quickly along the last 15km to the border post, and on pretty much a closed throttle on the way downhill, you could get up to about 140km/h. We stopped to fill up, give the chains the AFT treatment and pump up the tyres before we got to the border post, which, on hindsight, turned out to be a costly exercise timewise. Also, it was definitely the hottest it had been for the trip - it must have been about 35 degs C at 11.00 in the morning.

We arrived at the border post just behind the same busload of Aussies that we'd got stuck behind at breakfast earlier, as well as a truckload of guys from the southern Cape who'd been hunting in the Keetman's area. There was only one person on duty in on the outbound side of the border post so, being stuck behind about forty people, the process took about an hour. It wasn't time wasted though, and we had quite an amusing chat to the hunters - a real rough-and tumble bunch, and judging by the bleary eyes, as well as hunting, their trip had clearly included quite a bit of drinking. Their truck - a five tonner - was kitted with the essential requirements for a long tripâ?¦. beds and a bar!

We were finally stamped out of Namibia, and although the guards on the SA side were friendly, we ended up heading from pillar to post trying to get everything stamped and signed. No a very efficient process, and not much guidance from the guards.

We weren't really looking forward to the long slog back to the Cape, but luckily the weather was great, and the wind hadn't showed its face yet. Heading into Springbok, we were treated to the show that we'd missed on the way up 10 days before - with the sun behind us, the Namaqualand daisies were facing in our direction this time. Absolutely amazing, dazzling colours as far as the eye could see, and growing right up to the edge of the road. At points it was almost like riding though a flaming tunnel, with da-glo bright orange flowers stretching along both sides of the road.

Regretfully, as a result of the delays at the border post, we didn't really have time to stop for photos, and if anyone knows of a decent "helmet-cam", I'd love to have the information.

We pushed on through to Kamieskroon for petrol, still amazed by the greenery and the flowers. The only drawback was a couple of cars along the way that were clearly there for the flower show - unfortunately they were so absorbed by the show that they seemed to have forgotten that there were other road users, with U-turns and 60km/h speeds seemingly the order of the dayâ?¦.

It's all downhill from Kamieskroon to Vanrhynsdorp, just a pity about the wind - it was horrendous! I must admit, although they're nice and cool while riding through the desert, the motorcross helmets definitely show up their drawbacks in the open road cruising category. The big chin-piece and peak ensure that any cross winds do their best to twist your head right off of your shoulders - nasty!

Tacking into the wind, trying to keep your head pointed forward, one's heart sank through the saddle whenever you saw an approaching truck. The "bow wave" of wind thrown up by them was incredible - the only defence was to tuck down as far as possible behind the screen (chin on the tank stuff), and hang on for dear life. Overtaking was best undertaken with closed eyes, and a word to the big guy!

Anyway, 200km's later, with a neck that I swear was about 10 cm's longer than it was in Kamieskroon, we finally crawled into Vanrhynsdorp, swearing that we'll be trailering the bikes up to at least the Orange River the next time we do a Nam trip. Our initial plan was head through to a mate's place in Velddrift, but after a couple of emergency cups of coffee (those eyelid were starting to feel pretty heavyâ?¦) we decided to overnight at the Baths in Citrusdal, which was only about 100km down the road. The thought of soaking in hot springs was enough motivation to hit the road again, crossing fingers that there would be an empty camp site.

No chance of falling asleep on the road through Clanwilliam on the way to Citrusdal - the weekend drivers were partaking in South Africans favourite pastime - trying to take each other out wherever possible. Some "fantastic" overtaking to say the least. On the up side, the setting sun and the dam made for some fantastic sceneryâ?¦..when you could take your eyes of the road long enough to enjoy!

By the time we arrived at the gates of the Baths, the sun had already set. After chatting to the friendly guard at the gate, my heart sank when he called the main office to find out whether there were any open campsites��..and told them that two "bikers" wanted to spend the night! Thankfully the term "bikers" didn't conjure up any pictures of leather-clad Hells Angels with the office staff, and they gave us pretty much the last open site. (the Baths are situated in a very narrow kloof / valley, so camping space in really at a premium. I very much doubt whether we'd have been able to rock up unannounced if it hadn't been a Sunday night).

The Baths have been around since the turn of the last century, and it seems that most of the original buildings are still standing (although, the valley does flood fairly regularly). They've built a new restaurant since the last time I'd visited, but the architecture is great, and the new buildings blend into the environment really well.

Good timing seemed to have been with us for most of the trip, and Al managed to hook up a couple of cold beers and braai meat from the camp shop, just as it was closing for the evening. The meat was frozen, but the steaming stream running past our campsite defrosted it in short order. It felt quite strange to be back in the Cape winter - the evening was pretty chilly, with a lot of dew- a far cry from the desert at Ai-Ais the previous night.

The actual Baths themselves were great - exactly what the doctor ordered! Difficult to believe, but they actually cool the water before it arrives at the pool (coulda fooled me!). The temperature of the pool is way hotter than what you'd usually have in your bath at home (how else does one describe temperature..?!), and it takes about a good 5 minutes to submerge yourself, and I only managed about 15 minutes before I had to get out while I still could - pretty relaxing to say the very least.

Back at the tents, the "emergency supplies" of scotch were finally drained, and we hit the sack about5 minutes later. Bushedâ?¦!

 

[Sam]

Day 12. Citrusdal - Cape Town 180km - 2 hours (approx)

We slept like the dead - a result, I think, of a potent combination of the distance covered the previous day and the paralytic effect of the hot baths accompanied by the last of the "emergency supplies" of whiskey! Packing up for the last time on the trip was a little bit of a downer, and I even felt a twinge of nostalgia having to thread one of my tent poles through the hole that it had punched through the side of my tent when it snapped while "slaaning op" the night before. (Starlog 100017608 - get new tentâ?¦). The overcast weather didn't do much to add levity to the moment either.

We had an excellent fry-up at the restaurant and, contrary to my concerns about the Hells Angels image that the guard's "bikers" description might have conjured up the night before, one of the owners came to have a chat - really interested in hearing about our adventures!

Back on the road, we headed back over the Pikenierskloof Pass (had it really been 12 days since the last time we'd passed through?). Being a Monday morning, the traffic was pretty light, and after gassing up in Piketberg, it was a quick run back down through Malmesbury into CT.

The run back into CT was, I think, one of the moments that highlighted the trip for me. Overtaking a sparklingly clean GS1200 on the N1, piloted by a chap in a suit, with a laptop case slung over his shoulder - man, that's not what that thing was built for! (big one to talk - I pretty much commute on the AT every day���if the sun is shining!) Seeing the hustle and bustle of everybody rushing around, really made me think how lucky we were to have been able to do what we had.

A quick toot on the hooter to Al when he broke off to town, and the trip was over���until next time!

The endâ?¦ almost

Before signing off, I thought I'd share a couple of lessons learnt along the wayâ?¦.

â?¢By large, the Namibians are very friendly, and seem to take a lot of pride in their country. Tourism is a rapidly growing industry in the country - they're focusing on the development a lot. Something us Saffers could take a lesson fromâ?¦..!

â?¢Pick a date - the rest of the trip will plan itself around itâ?¦..!

â?¢700km's in a day is a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnggggggg time to spend on a bike saddle. (especially an AT - I reckon I'm 4,500km closer to a piles operation after that tripâ?¦..)

�120km's on dirt is not the same as 120 km on tar. This distance on the D707 took us about 4 - 5 hours��..not to mention the time taken to traverse any of the other "bad" roads"! Misjudge the time, and sleeping on the side of the road becomes a real option!

�Make sure you leave really early if you have to cross any borders. I reckon they're pretty lonely out there in the middle of nowhere - definitely no motivation to process and get you through quickly��

�Motorcycle gloves are not (usually) made from asbestos��. they will melt, and you will burn your hand, should you decide to grab a glowing hot exhaust pipe�..

â?¢Make sure you take along more water than you'll need for the day - you never know when you're going to have to spend the night on the side of a road somewhereâ?¦..

â?¢There is no such thing as "enough whiskey". It still tastes good, even if you haven't enough waterâ?¦.(see point above!)

Total distance covered: 4,385 km

Days: 12

Consumption(Honda & rider): Approx 270 l fuel (give or take a couple of litres), 2l whiskey, a medium sized cow and a medium flock of sheep (we looooove meat!).

Battle scars: BMW = lost /wore out headlight and mudguard mountings (them Beemer stylists I tell youâ?¦.!), cracked / snapped subframe (a wee lil 'ol break) and a puncture. Honda = one parking light bulb, backlight on Tripmaster, a couple of scratches on the crashbars, and one very tired Metzler Sahara rear tyreâ?¦..

The endâ?¦.really!

 

[Ratel]

I really enjoyed your report

Thanks for sharing!!

 

[Chuck U Farley]

Great stuff!!!!!!!!!
Planning something similar soon, lots I can learn from your story. Thanks

 

[Runner]

Lucky bastards :-[

 

[Plothond]

Just a suggestion
This is a really lekker report and I'd like to read it to the end (which I definately will)

There are three or four pics that are too wide and make the whole report difficult to read
Would you consider making them a bit narrower ??

Pleeeease !!! ;D

 

[popipants]

Great Report.
That sandy road looks hectic.

 

[Temik]

Nice report :thumleft:

 

[Ama ride ride]

Thanks for putting all the writing time in this report.

Great trip and pics, and now the memories will be with you forever. Namibia will always be a great DS riding country. One can never get enough.

 

[bmad]

Wow  O0

Thanks for this report.
We have a trip planned for May, similar route.

This is good info along with other ride reports on the same area posted by other members.

Eish, i just can't wait :thumleft: