Rain in the Richtersveld and refloating the SAS Wildehond

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We arrived at Travellers Rest, stopping at a smart looking restaurant (it looked pretty freshly built - possibly another casualty of the recent rains). They gave us directions to our accommodation a bit further up the road.

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We were in Mrs Bean and Johantjie.
 
We found our accommodation, unloaded and had to feed Henry's gluttonous monster again, though to be fair we were all running pretty low at this point - PETROL - off to Clanwilliam.

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On our return, those scattered dark clouds had got themselves into attacking formation, and started to let us have it. We opted to head straight to the restaurant and fill ourselves. We would deal with the rain later.

Inside it was warm with many fires blazing away around the large dining room, and smelt of all sorts of deliciousness.

We were about to alter the odour of the corner we snuck into. You see a blazing fire, when you are cold and wet is a great thing, even better if your boots are as wet as a goldfish bowl.

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Jarod building a leaning tower of boots, and socks, and .....

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Our tasty food came and all was well again. Some of the more gluttonous of us even opted for desert.
 
After a thoroughly enjoyable evening, we ventured back out into the night and a taste of what was already a slippery road to our accommodation for the night. It rained most of the night. Exhausting itself by the morning, which offered cloudy, cool but no rain conditions.

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We had a long day ahead of us over 400km aiming for Honderklip baai, and long stretches of sand up the west coast.

Gus rounded us up early and got us on the road.

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Only in his haste he headed out along the road in the direction we had come, only realising his mistake when we got to the end of it. Under normal conditions, meh - no issue. However, the rain overnight had turned what was already a tricky bit of road into a veritable quagmire. Gus has a reputation for bringing rain to the most improbable of areas as soon as he arrives there on his bike. We even had downpours on the Kalahari rally due to Gus' presence.

I, for one, had a number of "oh **** - here we go" moments along this stretch.

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Now Gus' probably only navigation error in 2,000 km had us going over this muddy misery twice - and i twas a lot longer than just what is in the photo. (Not that I am whinging) - my GPS says over 4km x 2 = 8km of slop. Eish! Gus you are making us work for our chance at the West Coast road.
 
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Along the way, we noticed that Mike's bike was looking like a dog caught stealing boerewors from the braai. It had tucked the number plate deep under the seat. We stopped and pulled this out, it looked like the tyre had caught it. Mike had been complaining about his suspension being harsh, I think this was his suspension making its voice heard complaining back.

You see, Mike likes to be prepared - for EVERYTHING! Previously, he was constrained by the available space he had to pack into. This time he was going to get the better of this minor irritation and bought a Giant Loop rackless system which consisted of two black holes - one either side of the bike, and a veritable wardrobe between the two. This assembly he proceeded to fill with every tool one could possibly need - from those required for a Sherman tank to fixing a watch, to those needed for pinhole surgery, complete with sufficient spares to stock a workshop and meds for an operating theatre and chemist. (Mike was also in charge of all things medical - he is not one who will let anyone down EVER - even if it means converting his 701 into an abnormal truck1).

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Lohan got to work adding a smidging of preload to Mike's suspension all round.

This was a routine that would be repeated often, until at last Mike's bike was gliding over the terrain.

That is - until we hit the soft sand........
 
Agreed, really enjoying it. Actually I’m enjoying it so much I’m thinking of selling my car and buying a cheaper one and another adventure bike 😂
 
Coming off Brand se Berg pass, we crossed our nemesis, the Doring River for the last time. This time safely beyond its icy grip, on a very elegant piece of engineering. Which judging by the debris on and around it, had passed a serious test of endurance.

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On to Klawer, where Gus allowed us to indulge in a Wimpy breakfast - it's not only armies that march on their stomachs.

Riders replenished, it was off to Lutzville to fill the bikes and just after Koekenaap on to the BEACH!
 
The obligatory group line up at important backdrops.
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Our team's artistic flair burst into life.

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Then the gentle sounds of the surf were interrupted by Gus cracking the whip - we still had a long way to go on a section that may take more time than we had.

YeeHAH! Sand here we come....

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One aspect of sand riding is that you can tell no lies - it records all your miss steps for posterity and to torture those still coming along. As every time you see zig zags torn across the track like this, you know those who made these marks were not in full control of the situation. To make matters worse, you now tense up, and your eyes are drawn to find the source of trouble. Inevitably leading you directly into trouble yourself.
 
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51Mobile said:
Yip - there you have it.

The first pick up of the day.

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Click to expand...
And that pick-up was well appreciated Boris.

One moment you give some gas to get away from the speedy riders in the back (and missing all the tell-tale snake tracks left by the plastics, and next you are on terra firma, facing the wrong way. Luckily the sand was supper soft, with only a bit of ankle pain for a few days. ATGATT all the way.
 
Keeping our speed up helped to keep the bike tracking in the spoor
 
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DustySprocket said:
And that pick-up was well appreciated Boris.

One moment you give some gas to get away from the speedy riders in the back (and missing all the tell-tale snake tracks left by the plastics, and next you are on terra firma, facing the wrong way. Luckily the sand was supper soft, with only a bit of ankle pain for a few days. ATGATT all the way.
Click to expand...
Pikkie was a bit shaken but not stirred
 
DustySprocket said:
And that pick-up was well appreciated Boris.

One moment you give some gas to get away from the speedy riders in the back (and missing all the tell-tale snake tracks left by the plastics, and next you are on terra firma, facing the wrong way. Luckily the sand was supper soft, with only a bit of ankle pain for a few days. ATGATT all the way.
Click to expand...
Pikkie, for you, I killa da bull!
 
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