Day 10. Part 2.
So here we are standing in Balfour in what seems to be a derelict church yard. We ate some peanuts and raisins to get some energy back into our systems as the road ahead is still far. I set of to explore the old church and the surrounding buildings.
From the outside the whole building seems to be coming apart. As I am walking towards the building I can see that the huge doors seemed stuck in their frames from all the exposure to the elements over the years. All the entry ways to the church is fenced off with barb wire. At first I thought it would be there to deter any thieves but as I am walking around the church I realize it is there to keep all the grazing animals away that wander around the town.
I find the fact that no windows is broken very strange as glass windows is always a huge temptation for small children in rural villages. The roof is still intact just in a dire need of a new coat of paint. As I reach the other side of the church I find one open door and put the camera away.
In the door stands an old black woman in her Sunday best waving me closer. At first I wanted to turn around and walk away but doing so could be seen as disrespect towards her. If this is going to be a trap they will have to take me by force as I am still in full kit and would not be going down easily. Why are us white people always so paranoid? I greed her by hand and she gestures me to follow her into the building. Inside the church it is empty except for the two of us.
She must be the caretaker and tries to have a conversation with me in Xhosa of which I can speak none. It seems that the inside of the church unlike the outside have been spared the rot and decay. The inside is so stunning with its wooden floors lined with long wooden benches and long red carpets that stretch from the podium all the way to each door. Even the three wooden galleries seemed well looked after. The only thing that needs attention is the ceiling of which some panels are missing.
The whole guide tour in Xhosa must have lasted only about ten minutes. During the ten minutes she was talking all the time and pointing at things trying her best to keep my attention. I could see in her facial expressions and body language that she is very proud of her church. As I made my way out of the church the same way as I came in I glanced into the consistory. The whole of the church counsel is in full assembly staring back at me. They were probably there the whole time and fully aware of what was going on inside their church. Only now I realize that it is actually Christmas day and these people are getting everything ready for the Christmas day sermon.
I think the whole time the caretaker lady was under the impression that I wanted to join them for the sermon and I was only too happy to be taken on a guided tour. I quickly apologies to her as we still had a long way to go and make my exit with my tail between my legs. As I walk to back to where I left Tribbes some more people are now coming towards me all dressed for the sermon. Here we are standing in our filthy riding gear in their church yard riding on a Holy day. I felt so ashamed. Looking back at it now we should have stayed for the sermon even if it meant we did not reach Baviaanskloof by the end of the day.
To find a black Dutch Reformed congregation in Balfour came as a huge surprise to me. The old church building would be a very nice restoration project if the necessary skills and funding could be required.
With more and more people arriving we gear up and got under way again. We are now heading towards Adelaide past the Mpofu Game reserve. We are still passing through some rain in places and the roads are mostly wet but not muddy. We came to a sign that says Post Retief. Only later would I find out that this was the place where Piet Retief the Voortrekker leader had his farm before moving into Natal with the Great Trek. When I come back again in the near future I will swing by here and do Katberg pass again. Just for fun.
Like I said before we were not actually keeping score of who goes down how many times but by now I was still lucky enough so far by having a zero behind my name. For those of you that met me before would know that when I do go down, I go down with a passion. So here I am riding in front for a change following the road that is going on a slight uphill. As I am normally the slower of our two Tribbes is always on my tail and I am so ever aware of his presence behind me. This time however he is far back but I am still in the habit of looking back to see that I do not turn into him as we follow the narrow track up this hill.
Half way up I quickly look back again and as I turn my head forward again my front wheel goes into a deep vehicle track. As I throttle up the front jumps out towards the left and the back of the bike out towards the right. I am now milliseconds away from been high sided. Instinctively I move my weight over to the left foot peg and the bike leans over as well but with the bike facing towards the left side of the road still under power I ran out of milliseconds. I slam into a sandbank on the side of the road with the bike falling over and sliding on its left side with my left leg pinned underneath. My left shoulder takes most of the impact but I can feel that my left ankle is not happy. Tribbes runs over and picks the bike up from me. He only starts laughing when I start hopping around on one foot saying: Please don’t swell up, please don’t swell up.
The bike comes of relatively undamaged from its brush with mother earth. Only the handle bar is slightly bent and the side of the bike is covered in mud. I am a little bit pissed at myself for making a stupid mistake but sometimes you must pay your school fees if you want to learn something trough experience. I continue on with the slightly bend handle bars as it would be too time consuming to straighten them now. My mood is also a little to somber to have to battle with bolts and nuts in a slight drizzle.
We ride trough what seemed like a private game reserve but saw no animals near the road. We had to sign in and out at boom gates at the entry point and exit point to the reserve. The guard at the exit point told us that a leopard has attacked him at the gate the previous night. I find it hard to believe has he seemed a little under the weather. He even demonstrated to us how the leopard knocked him down and he had to hide in his guard house not to become a leopards Christmas dinner.
In Adelaide we made the decision to rather stay on the tar until we reached Port Elizabeth. From PE it should be an easy hop to Patensie where we can look for a place to stay. A road sign that caught my eye in Bedford read: Welcome to a Frontier town or something like that. I am a history nutcase and just passing through these old historical towns with their rich history made me so proud. On a next trip I want to come to a specific area and explore as much as possible. It is very difficult to get a feel for an area if you are only riding through it.
The last thing I wanted to do on this trip was to ride on a national road but now we had no choice as this would been the shortest route to allow us to be in Patensie before the sun goes down. I knew this would be the best for us but it was hard to except the fact that this would be the right thing to do. The fatigue from been on the road for ten days now started to show. In Cookhouse I expressed my dismay with our current situation as we are now once again been forced to deviate from our planned route.
As we were now traveling south on the N10 we could see one hell of a rain storm in front of us. I pulled over to change into my rain clothes but Tribbes decided that he would stick it out in his normal riding gear. As he came over to towards me it was now his turn to give me a piece of his mind. Like I said before the whole day the air was a little tense between us but because we were friends and dependant on one another we tried not to hurt each other feelings too much. Rather keep the harsher words to yourself.
We left the rain behind us as we ride over the Olifantskop pass near Paterson. In Paterson we filled our tanks once more and took a breather. I told Tribbes that I had enough of this N10 and I am not interested in riding on the N2 to get to Patensie. I would like to get to Patensie another way. We declared a truce and set off for Uitenhage via Addo.
We barely reached the Addo fence when we had our first sighting of elephants. There was a whole assortment of animals close to the fence. At least it made riding this stretch of tar worthwhile.
We managed to reach Uitenhage round about 17h00 and finally found our first open food store for the day. We stocked up but I could not find any batteries for my helmet cam. My batteries were starting to fail and I wanted to film some of the water crossings in the Baviaans.
Although it was already late I chose the Elands river road to get to Patensie. On the forum it seemed like a very popular route for the EC dogs to get in to the Baviaans and I could see why.
Patensie is somewhere there in the valley below.
On trip like this it is always difficult to make accommodation arrangements in advance. It works better to find accommodation a route and hope for the best. It sometimes helps to lower your standards a little. It is an adventure after all. We missed Patensie totally as the Eland river road joins up with the main road on the other side of Patensie. We saw a sing next to the road that indicated a camping spot and we turn in.
The track to the camping spot was a little harder that we expected. We had to pass through a couple of orchards on the muddy farm tracks. There were also a few gates that needed to be opened. As we went in deeper into the valley with no end in sight I started thinking that maybe we missed something.
There were a couple of small water crossings that we had to cross and I had the misfortune to lose my front end in one of them. It was very shallow but extremely slippery. As the bike is lying on its side in the muddy water I take a little too long to pick it up and my pannier with all my clothing in gets full of water. I only realize that this has happen later when I wanted to change into a fresh T shirt. Score 4 – 2.
Be ride into a small clearing and it would seem that we finally managed to locate the camping spot. It called Gonjah camp ground. There is not much, actually there is nothing and the place need a lot of attention but if it was 5-star accommodation that we was looking for we would not be on this trip. We make the best of what we can get.
We share the camp ground with another group of riders that on their way into the Transkei to do some trail riding there. Camping should never be done without a fire but once again I had to go and beg for matches as ours has seemed to disappear once again. As we sat staring into our little bush television sipping hot black coffee all we could do was smile. We had another hard emotional day behind us but if everything goes according to plan we would be in Wilderness tomorrow night.