krister
Race Dog
My Second Proper Outride: The “Wes-Transvaal” Square (Potchefstroom-Ventersdorp-Rustenburg-Magaliesburg)
A lengthy report for a 6-hour ride, but full of incidents and some pics...
Thursday I decided I would go for an outride on Saturday and by Friday I had narrowed it down to two basic options: Either ride in and around to the Potchefstroom area where I grew up, and where I know the roads (especially gravel) very well, or do the obvious Magalies-Harties ride, with some dirt in between. I also decided to buy a GPS – but decided to save costs and buy a cheapie – Garmin Nuvi 205, and save even more and buy a GPS bag – Givi – that is waterproof and mounts on the handlebars. After a somewhat frustrating search in Roodepoort, I eventually bought the Givi bag at Full Throttle – which is actually closer to where I live. Due to reasons not mentioned here (ask Adventurer) I ended up using my car’s TomTom instead – albeit without a proper power connection – just for when I really need it.
So, Givi bag and all (panniers and top box) I left home at around 9 – a bit later than I’d planned. The bike felt different all loaded up and in Saturday morning traffic. I decided to avoid the roadworks on the N1 after Gordon and drove through Auckland Park and took the M1. However, as soon as I was close to Soweto I ran into a major roadblock – those where they close the highway off and stop every second car. This, combined with the roadworks I found when the M1 joined back with the N1, until the N12 split off. From there it was pretty much plain sailing up to Westonaria where I had a coffee and a smoke.
Back on the road I travelled past the Krugersdorp / Vereeniging crossing and just before Kraalkop Hotel I turn left on the Losberg road. Instead of doing the normal right turn towards Fochville, I decided to continue on with the dirt road to Losberg. Fairly OK gravel but a tad rocky and uneven to my liking. I stopped for a sip of coffee and a de-ATGATT under a tree next to the road.
After the pit stop I continued until the road connected with my normal route to Potch. Uneventful but enjoyable riding to my hometown. Entering Potch I meet some more traffic cops and the one that asks for my licence wishes me a happy valentine’s day – Is that weird? I again stop for a rest under a tree in a park near to my parents’ house.
Under the tree I decide to do my old favourite outride – from the Ventersdorp road just outside Potch I take the Eleazer road and continue past the old Detention Barracks and Artillery training grounds. It is a quiet road – only populated by some eager cyclists riding in groups and the odd bakkie or farmer’s car.
I always get a sense of bliss when I ride there – even with a car. It’s totally quiet, and due to the sizable artillery testing grounds it looks like it would’ve hundreds of years ago. But mostly: there are almost no other cars and it leads to some interesting gravel roads to farm communities. It was a great ride – with a healthy level of meditative introspection and memories of previous rides. I decided on a gravel road that leads past farms almost all the way to Ventersdorp – about 40 to 50 km. Although it was the first time on a bike, I had been through that gravel section once or twice before in a car – I remember once with glorious amounts of mud.
As soon as I hit the gravel I was sorry about bringing along the hard luggage, and mostly the panniers. The bike’s balance felt compromised and I wished she was naked. After a while though I got into it and stuck to the car tracks, picking my line. At some stage I even went up to fourth gear with a proper dust stripe in my wake. I came to a crossing, and turned left towards Ventersdorp.
Shortly after the crossing the road surface changed. Bits of hard surface with some rocky areas and sand interspersed. I started thinking of the accounts of Wild Dogs about the 1150 and sand. A friend of mine says that the “GS” stands for the Afrikaans “Geen Sand” and with my dodgy shoulder I wanted to err on the side of caution. I thought about some ride reports talking about “driffies” (dry river / floodwater bed crossings) being especially prone to sand.
The thought had barely left my mind when I hit sand – deep sand, making the old tart start twisting and moving laterally off her line. I almost panicked, imagining a dive in the sand, when I slowly throttled down, extended my legs for balance and support if I should fall, and slowed down with some more kinks testing my perseverance. Luckily I stopped in time, and waded out of the sandy part. It was a good recovery, but I took it easier now = encountering some very rocky stretches as well as one or two more sandy patches. It was – albeit I’m a newbie – mentally and physically challenging, but still great fun!
While riding in the sun, slowly and hot in ATGATT (All The Gear, All The Time – yah right!), I started longing for liquid. More specifically, I started picturing an ice cold beer. It would have to be a big one – something like a tall Windhoek draft on tap and just one. The last 20 km I could not wait to get to Ventersdorp, have a Windhoek and maybe even some pub lunch somewhere. However, as soon as I rode through Ventersdorp I didn’t fancy stopping at any of the places I passed. The only option was a Wimpy at a garage, but I doubted they would stock Windhoek. I bravely decided to continue towards Rustenburg, not realising that the next town (Derby) was more than 50 km away.
The road to Derby was straight, boring (apart from some scary potholes) and long. The “long” part proved most problematic, with my fuel light going on about 20 km from Derby. I stuck religiously to the 120 km/h speed limit and pressed on, vaguely recalling the amount of km’s left in the pig from the owner’s manual. I remember Derby as a (very!) small town, but I thought I would have the beer and some lunch there. Filling up at the first (and only) garage in Derby, I asked the attendant about where I could have some lunch. He explained that, unfortunately there were no sit-down restaurants in Derby, but that there was the Derby Hotel and Bottle Store where I could have a drink. So, Derby Hotel it was...
I came in – hot and sweaty from the ATGATT, ordered a dop and sat at the bar. The barman was also a Shark fan and was watching one of the non-SA Super 14 games. Two smokes later and a lot cooler I left the bar greeting him and headed back to the main road to Rustenburg where I could certainly have some late lunch. The plan was to go over Rustenburg past Harties and back home – a nice stretch for the rest of the day.
The ride to Rustenburg was very nice, with the landscape changing from the drab Western Transvaal plains and grasslands to the more hilly, bushveld-ish look of the Rustenburg area – very pretty at times. Also the bends were lekker and I enjoyed waltzing past the hills and through the depressions in the landscape. Almost no cage drivers in my way and when I hit the Rustenburg / Krugersdorp t-junction, I decided to push on to Wickers just before Magaliesburg where I could have lunch under the trees.
Here the cages where back in their droves, with lots of trucks and even some abnormal load road trains spoiling my fun. Taking full advantage of being on a bike I was able to pass the trucks quite easily – with a BMW clad 1200 rider passing me at some stage. Having passed the trucks I was on a fairly high speed and there were no more cages in my mirrors. I hit a stretch with an 80 km/h speed limit and promptly slowed down as I remember some sharp bends. Then it happened...
Coming over an uphill there was a series of very big potholes in front of me – so big that it was impossible to avoid hitting one of them while staying in the single lane. I thought quickly, slowed down as much as possible, stood up in the saddle and braced myself for contact. I saw the colossal size of the hole (probably 1 by 1.5 meters) just before I hit it... Needless to say, after my October off my mind played familiar negative predictions of going down and re-acquainting myself with Mother Earth.
Luckily I went through without any serious damage. Just a hard impact pushing the bike down in its shocks and slowing down with the sound of plastic on rubber. I immediately thought it must have been my top box / rear rack that broke from the impact – as read on so many WD reports – but the Kappa (that I bought from Beemerman) was still there in all its glory. I looked back and down, and saw that it was the rear mudguard-thingy that most GS’s come with – directly on top of the rear wheel. Its bracket had broken free from the bolt and snapped so that it moved up under the chassis and was touching the wheel. I pulled over at a farm entrance and had a look:
I was not impressed but I counted myself lucky for the way things turned out. I was also impressed with the bulletproof feeling of the old lady that had no real damage to the tyres or suspension / frame. I considered getting out the toolbox and taking of the broken piece of plastic, but tested it and decided that it was fine remaining on the bike but not touching the rear tyre. I did, however, notice the following on closer inspection:
Note the bent nail in the pic above. The wheel pressure being fine, I decided to push on slowly to Wickers where I could check the tyre again and take action if necessary.
Wickers, however, was not open and I decided to proceed to the Wimpy in Magaliesburg. After a disappointing cheese burger but well-deserved and ice-cold mega Coke, I continued home via Krugersdorp and entering with Hendrik Potgieter Road to Gordon. I was home at around 4 and took a dive to cool down my sweaty body. In the end I had done a total of 406 km of which around 20% must have been gravel. Apart from the damaged plastic and some unexpected mental workouts it was a very good ride! Next time it’s Durban ... the long way! :ricky:
A lengthy report for a 6-hour ride, but full of incidents and some pics...
Thursday I decided I would go for an outride on Saturday and by Friday I had narrowed it down to two basic options: Either ride in and around to the Potchefstroom area where I grew up, and where I know the roads (especially gravel) very well, or do the obvious Magalies-Harties ride, with some dirt in between. I also decided to buy a GPS – but decided to save costs and buy a cheapie – Garmin Nuvi 205, and save even more and buy a GPS bag – Givi – that is waterproof and mounts on the handlebars. After a somewhat frustrating search in Roodepoort, I eventually bought the Givi bag at Full Throttle – which is actually closer to where I live. Due to reasons not mentioned here (ask Adventurer) I ended up using my car’s TomTom instead – albeit without a proper power connection – just for when I really need it.
So, Givi bag and all (panniers and top box) I left home at around 9 – a bit later than I’d planned. The bike felt different all loaded up and in Saturday morning traffic. I decided to avoid the roadworks on the N1 after Gordon and drove through Auckland Park and took the M1. However, as soon as I was close to Soweto I ran into a major roadblock – those where they close the highway off and stop every second car. This, combined with the roadworks I found when the M1 joined back with the N1, until the N12 split off. From there it was pretty much plain sailing up to Westonaria where I had a coffee and a smoke.
Back on the road I travelled past the Krugersdorp / Vereeniging crossing and just before Kraalkop Hotel I turn left on the Losberg road. Instead of doing the normal right turn towards Fochville, I decided to continue on with the dirt road to Losberg. Fairly OK gravel but a tad rocky and uneven to my liking. I stopped for a sip of coffee and a de-ATGATT under a tree next to the road.
After the pit stop I continued until the road connected with my normal route to Potch. Uneventful but enjoyable riding to my hometown. Entering Potch I meet some more traffic cops and the one that asks for my licence wishes me a happy valentine’s day – Is that weird? I again stop for a rest under a tree in a park near to my parents’ house.
Under the tree I decide to do my old favourite outride – from the Ventersdorp road just outside Potch I take the Eleazer road and continue past the old Detention Barracks and Artillery training grounds. It is a quiet road – only populated by some eager cyclists riding in groups and the odd bakkie or farmer’s car.
I always get a sense of bliss when I ride there – even with a car. It’s totally quiet, and due to the sizable artillery testing grounds it looks like it would’ve hundreds of years ago. But mostly: there are almost no other cars and it leads to some interesting gravel roads to farm communities. It was a great ride – with a healthy level of meditative introspection and memories of previous rides. I decided on a gravel road that leads past farms almost all the way to Ventersdorp – about 40 to 50 km. Although it was the first time on a bike, I had been through that gravel section once or twice before in a car – I remember once with glorious amounts of mud.
As soon as I hit the gravel I was sorry about bringing along the hard luggage, and mostly the panniers. The bike’s balance felt compromised and I wished she was naked. After a while though I got into it and stuck to the car tracks, picking my line. At some stage I even went up to fourth gear with a proper dust stripe in my wake. I came to a crossing, and turned left towards Ventersdorp.
Shortly after the crossing the road surface changed. Bits of hard surface with some rocky areas and sand interspersed. I started thinking of the accounts of Wild Dogs about the 1150 and sand. A friend of mine says that the “GS” stands for the Afrikaans “Geen Sand” and with my dodgy shoulder I wanted to err on the side of caution. I thought about some ride reports talking about “driffies” (dry river / floodwater bed crossings) being especially prone to sand.
The thought had barely left my mind when I hit sand – deep sand, making the old tart start twisting and moving laterally off her line. I almost panicked, imagining a dive in the sand, when I slowly throttled down, extended my legs for balance and support if I should fall, and slowed down with some more kinks testing my perseverance. Luckily I stopped in time, and waded out of the sandy part. It was a good recovery, but I took it easier now = encountering some very rocky stretches as well as one or two more sandy patches. It was – albeit I’m a newbie – mentally and physically challenging, but still great fun!
While riding in the sun, slowly and hot in ATGATT (All The Gear, All The Time – yah right!), I started longing for liquid. More specifically, I started picturing an ice cold beer. It would have to be a big one – something like a tall Windhoek draft on tap and just one. The last 20 km I could not wait to get to Ventersdorp, have a Windhoek and maybe even some pub lunch somewhere. However, as soon as I rode through Ventersdorp I didn’t fancy stopping at any of the places I passed. The only option was a Wimpy at a garage, but I doubted they would stock Windhoek. I bravely decided to continue towards Rustenburg, not realising that the next town (Derby) was more than 50 km away.
The road to Derby was straight, boring (apart from some scary potholes) and long. The “long” part proved most problematic, with my fuel light going on about 20 km from Derby. I stuck religiously to the 120 km/h speed limit and pressed on, vaguely recalling the amount of km’s left in the pig from the owner’s manual. I remember Derby as a (very!) small town, but I thought I would have the beer and some lunch there. Filling up at the first (and only) garage in Derby, I asked the attendant about where I could have some lunch. He explained that, unfortunately there were no sit-down restaurants in Derby, but that there was the Derby Hotel and Bottle Store where I could have a drink. So, Derby Hotel it was...
I came in – hot and sweaty from the ATGATT, ordered a dop and sat at the bar. The barman was also a Shark fan and was watching one of the non-SA Super 14 games. Two smokes later and a lot cooler I left the bar greeting him and headed back to the main road to Rustenburg where I could certainly have some late lunch. The plan was to go over Rustenburg past Harties and back home – a nice stretch for the rest of the day.
The ride to Rustenburg was very nice, with the landscape changing from the drab Western Transvaal plains and grasslands to the more hilly, bushveld-ish look of the Rustenburg area – very pretty at times. Also the bends were lekker and I enjoyed waltzing past the hills and through the depressions in the landscape. Almost no cage drivers in my way and when I hit the Rustenburg / Krugersdorp t-junction, I decided to push on to Wickers just before Magaliesburg where I could have lunch under the trees.
Here the cages where back in their droves, with lots of trucks and even some abnormal load road trains spoiling my fun. Taking full advantage of being on a bike I was able to pass the trucks quite easily – with a BMW clad 1200 rider passing me at some stage. Having passed the trucks I was on a fairly high speed and there were no more cages in my mirrors. I hit a stretch with an 80 km/h speed limit and promptly slowed down as I remember some sharp bends. Then it happened...
Coming over an uphill there was a series of very big potholes in front of me – so big that it was impossible to avoid hitting one of them while staying in the single lane. I thought quickly, slowed down as much as possible, stood up in the saddle and braced myself for contact. I saw the colossal size of the hole (probably 1 by 1.5 meters) just before I hit it... Needless to say, after my October off my mind played familiar negative predictions of going down and re-acquainting myself with Mother Earth.
Luckily I went through without any serious damage. Just a hard impact pushing the bike down in its shocks and slowing down with the sound of plastic on rubber. I immediately thought it must have been my top box / rear rack that broke from the impact – as read on so many WD reports – but the Kappa (that I bought from Beemerman) was still there in all its glory. I looked back and down, and saw that it was the rear mudguard-thingy that most GS’s come with – directly on top of the rear wheel. Its bracket had broken free from the bolt and snapped so that it moved up under the chassis and was touching the wheel. I pulled over at a farm entrance and had a look:
I was not impressed but I counted myself lucky for the way things turned out. I was also impressed with the bulletproof feeling of the old lady that had no real damage to the tyres or suspension / frame. I considered getting out the toolbox and taking of the broken piece of plastic, but tested it and decided that it was fine remaining on the bike but not touching the rear tyre. I did, however, notice the following on closer inspection:
Note the bent nail in the pic above. The wheel pressure being fine, I decided to push on slowly to Wickers where I could check the tyre again and take action if necessary.
Wickers, however, was not open and I decided to proceed to the Wimpy in Magaliesburg. After a disappointing cheese burger but well-deserved and ice-cold mega Coke, I continued home via Krugersdorp and entering with Hendrik Potgieter Road to Gordon. I was home at around 4 and took a dive to cool down my sweaty body. In the end I had done a total of 406 km of which around 20% must have been gravel. Apart from the damaged plastic and some unexpected mental workouts it was a very good ride! Next time it’s Durban ... the long way! :ricky:
