Part 2
At about four o’clock there were signs that we were going to move on. I quickly got to my bike to put the camera away and put the riding gear back on so that I could ride close to the bakkies up front. Being at Assegaaibos first with Watty, I made sure to make good use of the available shade. Unfortunately everybody else arriving had the same idea and I was parked in solidly! It was only the KTM that was parked one side, totally exposed to the sun and its nose pointing at the exit like a race horse in the gates waiting to be released for a race. This might be a trick to keep the engine warm.
As the engines roared to life, the excitement started growing inside. That little paw, kindly donated to me, pasted onto the front fender, started to grow on me. I am a dog… part of a pack… roaming the dirt roads of the earth… ready to accept the adventure of a ride.
This is where my inexperience showed again. So eager to ride and so proud of being part of this unique experience, that I kleen forgot about having a camera. Thinking of it now it actually worked out well that way because the memories of the first few km are engraved in my memory, clearer than what any picture could do justice to.
After about 10km of easy going there was a short re-group before descending down the first pass leading into a marvelous little valley.
A stream came down the kloof, making a slight turn before flowing further underneath a little bridge. Some of us stopped on this bridge to admire nature and its unique diversity.
Here we had water, green vegetation, some of the whitest sand forming a secluded little beach, a canoe to row in and a timber holiday home so far from the nearest ocean and civilization that one can easily think that your eyes are playing tricks on you.
On the next plateau the bakkies stopped, we all had to gather so that the farmer could talk to us.
Two things came up:
1. Take it carefully for the next few km. At that point we were about 2700m above sea level and would drop approximately 700m in the next 1,2km. Listening to the rest of the group afterwards as well, we all expected one very scary ride! I expected one of those rides where you had to sit on the number plate holder to prevent the bike from going head over heels. It turned out to be not that scary at all. There were one or two sharp turns, no barriers and a near vertical drop on the one side. The fairly good road surface compensated for the other intimidating factors. The ALP, with a MT60 at the back and a Trailwing up front, even felt sure-footed in these conditions. (Thinking of it now, I went really slooooowwwwww) This gave me even more confidence. (Confidence to be short lived!!)
2. We were told to keep an eye to the right of the ravine where we would see the old man and his wife that turned into stone when they witnessed the gruesome murder of Mr Prinsloo.
Once in the valley the scenery was like a picture from a fairytale. With the accommodation nearly in sight we got to a little river crossing. I saw a guy standing on the other side taking photos. Oh my gosh, how would I like to have a photo of myself on the Alp, in the wilderness crossing a river, water forming a big V as I race through it, real Paris-Dakar style. Without even contemplating the consequences, I gave the right wrist a quick flick a few meters before the water’s edge. I think I had second gear hooked because I had a sudden burst of speed entering the water that created the big-V I wanted. Unfortunately the photo does not show the a****le on the other side, riding in a jean, soaked in water as if coming out of a washing machine. Fortunately the proper riding jacket kept my upper body dry. (Lesson learned - Keep it slow but steady in water)
About 100m further we turned off this road into a little “twee spoor paadjie” leading to the house. Another water crossing, about 10 m wide but fully covered in grass with mud churned up in the spoor by the bakkies and the other bikes. Luckily I have recovered from my earlier stupidity and made a near perfect crossing. Plain sailing ahead, + 100m more and then we can relax.
With me stopping to take photos, most of the other guys already had their mounts parked and were admiring the scenery.
Just the little curved up-hill path to the house and I will be done riding for the day.
An uphill, curved path, marble like stones and too little momentum is a sure recipe for disaster. As I was getting on the gas too late, the back end stepped out. I caught it but because of the slippery stones, I got to a standstill. Trying to hold the bike up on the marbles was a fruitless exercise and the bike landed up on its side with me standing wide legged over it. Immediately you are of being watched. This came to mind even before things like whether the bike was damaged or not.
I felt like a total AS@@@LE. Kimberley’s hole would not have been big enough for me to hide in!!
(Photos of my embarrassing moment in the Prinsloo’s Kloof RR by Leftless) Thanks to McS who came to my aid and held the bike for me to get on. Up to now I can still not remember how I started the bike and how I got into the parking area. First thing that I can recall was that I struggled to put the Alp on the centre stand, dumped the effort and left it on the side stand for the night.
Fortunately, by the time I had my helmet and jacket off, I was back to normal.
Now it was time to find a place to make my bed and unpack the Alp. Stuff that… First a cold beer!!
This I needed because it was very hot and humid and I was scared of de-hydration. A serious condition! ! (Ha-Ha. Good enough excuse)
Then …. To be continued…