lightning1
Race Dog
Sunday dawned with beautiful clear skies. Well, to be honest, I initially could not tell, due to the winter darkness, but I desperately wanted to believe it was so, as I had been looking forward to this excursion all week, so spoke myself into it. Got all my kit ready, jumped on the bike and roared off into the sunset, well again, not quite, but it seemed more poetic to say that. 
First rendezvous was the CMR Golf Club, to order coffee, and see which other intrepid “dogs” would brave the chilly elements and actually arrive. By then I could see that it was indeed a beautiful day. It is always easy to commit via keyboard, but dragging that tired body out of a warm bed is slightly more difficult. I was quite astonished to see how many had arrived before the agreed meeting time of 07h30. The WD crowd was as reliable and enthusiastic as could be asked for. What a turnout. By the time the ride started we were 18. After ordering a cup of coffee (always those priorities) greetings followed, introductions were made and old acquaintances were renewed. There was the odd puzzled look from those club-swinging fellows in their tartan trousers – they probably thought we were dressed strangely.
From there we headed off to the dodgy Garage where all the plastics riders park their trailers and off-load their bikes. There were lots of side-ways looks at these dual sports that were planning to take on plastics-territory, and I have no doubt that there were some snide remarks as well. A quick stop there to deflate tyres, a short briefing, and meet up with those riders that missed out on the Golf club’s exotic brew.
The first part of the ride was very relaxed and non-threatening, and consisted of some hard-packed dirt road that did not last long at all, and we turned off onto some single-track, and headed for the first planned obstacle, a river crossing. Fortunately intelligence triumphed over valour once we got there, because the river was too deep, flowing too fast, and there were too many rocky lurkers, and we wisely changed direction onto some sandy sections, which were just loose enough to force those hands to tighten around the grips, but fortunately the section finished before arm-pump or fatigue could set in.
I noticed a bit of wrestling going on between some of the riders and their trusty steeds, and I am sure the big beemers were not all that comfortable, but they handled it with aplomb. From there we continued on our merry way, marveling at the huge hill-climbs on the sides, which are tackled each and every weekend by crazed plastic-mounted lunatics, before tackling the twisty enduro-type track around one of the big mine dumps, through the trees, and over little obstacles such as fallen trees. I think the first couple of humps may have caused momentary flutters for some, but fortunately no real incidents.
We then headed off on a well worn path (read whoops), and the various methods of dealing with them were in clear evidence, including some that do not appear in any of the textbooks. Halfway down the path, we encountered another little water-crossing, but this was fortunately just a large puddle, although the rocks hiding in the bottom did their best to spoil the party. There were some nice sprays though, and if I was quicker with the camera, there would definitely have been some meritorious entries for the water-crossing post on the site.
Onwards we went, to a section known as Tombstone Hill (another story for another time), which is a flat sandy section, which is generally used to teach people to ride, and where a mini-mx track has developed. One quick whip around there, (a little bit of racing had crept in) and one or two of the ruts were immediately and unceremoniously widened by those flat boxer engines. Surprisingly, coming out of there proved a tad more difficult than expected, and a bike or two had to be picked up after a brief “rest”.
From there, we headed across the rocky plains, which force you to hold on tight, as those damn rocks are hard, and a little off there would cause some nasty cosmetic damage.
A short stop for some refreshment was followed by the trek through the outskirts of Soweto, and on to the half-way point, being the biggest mine dump in the area, which is really just like a big sand dune, for some roaring up and down the side. There were lots of spills at first, and lots of fun moments. As the confidence grew, and the competitive influence (read testosterone) kicked in, most of the big bikes contentedly roared up and down the dune. I saw a GS 1200 (with road tyres) on top at one stage, and have to say that it was a fantastic achievement by Johan.
I must also add that I rode Deane’s 950SE up there, and can tell you that it is simply an awesome bike.
From there it was back home along some different dirt routes, and I think that tiredness started creeping in, as we started having more and more momentary lapses of talent, and some spares departments will be doing a brisk trade this morning. The final hurdle was a little river crossing with a steep little drop-off at the start, and it being warm by then, some of the dogs “chose” to cool off in the river. From there back to the Garage for an ice cold drink and some war-stories.
I would like to thank everyone that came along for a great ride, and I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I did.
First rendezvous was the CMR Golf Club, to order coffee, and see which other intrepid “dogs” would brave the chilly elements and actually arrive. By then I could see that it was indeed a beautiful day. It is always easy to commit via keyboard, but dragging that tired body out of a warm bed is slightly more difficult. I was quite astonished to see how many had arrived before the agreed meeting time of 07h30. The WD crowd was as reliable and enthusiastic as could be asked for. What a turnout. By the time the ride started we were 18. After ordering a cup of coffee (always those priorities) greetings followed, introductions were made and old acquaintances were renewed. There was the odd puzzled look from those club-swinging fellows in their tartan trousers – they probably thought we were dressed strangely.
From there we headed off to the dodgy Garage where all the plastics riders park their trailers and off-load their bikes. There were lots of side-ways looks at these dual sports that were planning to take on plastics-territory, and I have no doubt that there were some snide remarks as well. A quick stop there to deflate tyres, a short briefing, and meet up with those riders that missed out on the Golf club’s exotic brew.
The first part of the ride was very relaxed and non-threatening, and consisted of some hard-packed dirt road that did not last long at all, and we turned off onto some single-track, and headed for the first planned obstacle, a river crossing. Fortunately intelligence triumphed over valour once we got there, because the river was too deep, flowing too fast, and there were too many rocky lurkers, and we wisely changed direction onto some sandy sections, which were just loose enough to force those hands to tighten around the grips, but fortunately the section finished before arm-pump or fatigue could set in.
I noticed a bit of wrestling going on between some of the riders and their trusty steeds, and I am sure the big beemers were not all that comfortable, but they handled it with aplomb. From there we continued on our merry way, marveling at the huge hill-climbs on the sides, which are tackled each and every weekend by crazed plastic-mounted lunatics, before tackling the twisty enduro-type track around one of the big mine dumps, through the trees, and over little obstacles such as fallen trees. I think the first couple of humps may have caused momentary flutters for some, but fortunately no real incidents.
We then headed off on a well worn path (read whoops), and the various methods of dealing with them were in clear evidence, including some that do not appear in any of the textbooks. Halfway down the path, we encountered another little water-crossing, but this was fortunately just a large puddle, although the rocks hiding in the bottom did their best to spoil the party. There were some nice sprays though, and if I was quicker with the camera, there would definitely have been some meritorious entries for the water-crossing post on the site.
Onwards we went, to a section known as Tombstone Hill (another story for another time), which is a flat sandy section, which is generally used to teach people to ride, and where a mini-mx track has developed. One quick whip around there, (a little bit of racing had crept in) and one or two of the ruts were immediately and unceremoniously widened by those flat boxer engines. Surprisingly, coming out of there proved a tad more difficult than expected, and a bike or two had to be picked up after a brief “rest”.
From there, we headed across the rocky plains, which force you to hold on tight, as those damn rocks are hard, and a little off there would cause some nasty cosmetic damage.
A short stop for some refreshment was followed by the trek through the outskirts of Soweto, and on to the half-way point, being the biggest mine dump in the area, which is really just like a big sand dune, for some roaring up and down the side. There were lots of spills at first, and lots of fun moments. As the confidence grew, and the competitive influence (read testosterone) kicked in, most of the big bikes contentedly roared up and down the dune. I saw a GS 1200 (with road tyres) on top at one stage, and have to say that it was a fantastic achievement by Johan.
I must also add that I rode Deane’s 950SE up there, and can tell you that it is simply an awesome bike.
From there it was back home along some different dirt routes, and I think that tiredness started creeping in, as we started having more and more momentary lapses of talent, and some spares departments will be doing a brisk trade this morning. The final hurdle was a little river crossing with a steep little drop-off at the start, and it being warm by then, some of the dogs “chose” to cool off in the river. From there back to the Garage for an ice cold drink and some war-stories.
I would like to thank everyone that came along for a great ride, and I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I did.
![DSCF1682 [640x480].JPG](https://cdn.imagearchive.com/wilddog/data/attach/40/40672-DSCF1682-640x480-.JPG)
![DSCF1683 [640x480].JPG](https://cdn.imagearchive.com/wilddog/data/attach/40/40673-DSCF1683-640x480-.JPG)
