Tankwa Trek (16 - 30 Sept 2019): Oh I don't know where I'm going

[Ri]

I reach the bottom too soon - it is a short little pass - and head out over the sandy valley floor. The track turns here and there, and I have to stop often to check the MapOut GPX route I'm following to stop going in the wrong direction, and I learn to zoom in real close.

Road or washout?

Hmmm seems a bit dodgy. GPX track confirms this is not the way.

Now to turn around on the bike... didn't leave myself enough space, I'm up against a bush. But where there's a will I want to be in it.

Soon I reach one gate onto a smooth gravel highway, and then another, and then another, as I ride a seemingly never ending road that shoots arrow straight across the terrain until it connects with the tar from Nieuwoudtville to Clanwilliam.

So boring, nothing to draw the eye and the interest and keep the mind occupied.

Nope, more of the same

Now it's a race against time to reach [member=24614]Nama Bike Camp[/member] before dark.

 

[BMWPE]

Fantastic ride report
thank you for taking the time to do it

 

[Ri]

​

Fantastic ride report
thank you for taking the time to do it

Thanks!

I enjoy the reliving of it. I loved it all :ricky:

 

[husky]

Really inspirational and great report - I enjoy the meandering.

 

[Chrisl]

Many years ago I had to help push start that red Laverda in Vredendal in the photo's. Just did not want to start with the starter.

 

[Ri]

Day 9 (cont'd)

I arrive at Nama Bike Camp at dusk and the gate is closed. I ride around to see if there is another entrance, and turn around when I realise there isn't, to find Wayne standing at the open gate, beckoning me in. Panther has a pleasingly deep, quiet growl, but not THAT quiet and Wayne, also a DR650 owner, heard it.

I meet Wayne and his lovely wife, a very hospitable couple, and decide to take a tent rather than try to put up mine on the freshly irrigated lawn. I'm fortunate - they only arrived back the previous evening and although they can't offer me dinner, I have the whole camp to myself. Dinner is no problem, it's mostly liquid followed by the usual mussels on Provitas, which I really enjoy by now. Wayne suggests I stay for a second night, and he'll join me on a ride around the West Coast the following morning. I agree, and start planning where to go when I leave the day after. Noises from the family persuade me that Fraserburg should be my next destination.

The tent is even lighted, Bra!

Very neat camping area, but Wayne is thinking of moving the tents further apart.

Fire pit ready for the next big "kuier".

Mozambique -inspired

Jacuzzi for the ladies (Wayne says the guys for some reason aren't too fond of it)

Heated (you read that right - HEATED) to about 34oC, this pool is built next to the bar. Apparently you aren't allowed to leave the camp until you've taken a dip. Good thing I packed my cozzie O0

A lekker bar where you can just sit and talk nonsense deep into the night. The locals drop in from Wednesday evenings when there's a happy hour with a decent double brandy special  :sip:

Clean ablutions with electrical geysers on the left and gas geysers on the right.

It becomes extremely windy during the evening, and Wayne suggests that I rather sleep in the guest room of their house which adjoins the bar, but I opt for the outdoors. The tent flaps and creaks throughout the night. This doesn't bother me as much as the motion sensor light nearby that keeps switching on and off, activated by a waving tree nearby.

 

[Ri]

Day 10

Due to intermittent sleep, I snooze late this morning. I don my riding gear and make myself a cup of Nestlé Hazelnut Instant Cappuccino. Slowly I start to feel more alive. Wayne tells me that one of his workers didn't arrive, and he won't be able to ride with me, but he phoned one of his friends who has time and knows the area, and asked him to show me around.

The wind is still pumping when the friend arrives, looking unimpressed with the idea of venturing out on a bike in this weather.  He says he'll think about it and leaves, but I see the "NOPE" on his face. Soon a message full of excuses arrive. No matter, as soon as I can shake the laziness that settled on my tired bones, I'll take myself for a ride around. The wind is really unpleasant but I didn't come on a riding holiday to not ride.

I linger around the bar area and catch up on my emails and WhatsApps, willing myself to get going, and ignoring my own entreaties. You know, the stuff legendary ride reports are made off... not. Wayne, feeling bad about his friend letting me down, has in the meantime been rethinking his schedule and comes upon a solution. He'll finish up one thing and another, and then we'll get going a little after midday. I accept happily.

Not much later, Wayne is in his riding gear and warming up his KTM 990, and after filling up on fuel, we head for gravel roads.

The wind is still pushy, but seems to be calming down somewhat. We head out on the Skurwekop road which leads off the N7 right next to the petrol station.  This is a gravel highway with here and there a bit of loose shale and sandy bits to catch you unawares.

I'm leading, at Wayne's insistence, and find myself trying to "be a man", swinging around the curves faster than I'm comfortable with. Every now and then face and knuckles turn white when the rear slides around too much, but I can't control my speedy impulse. On one turn my eye catches a zebra on the left, standing with its big smooth behind almost next to the road. It seems slightly surreal and I want to point it out to Wayne, but we pass it too quickly.

Then we reach a T-junction and turn right towards Vredendal.

At the next T-junction, we turn left towards Vredendal/Lambertsbaai,

While I take photo's, Wayne takes a smoke break, and insists on taking a photo of me.

I'm not very comfortable in front of the camera; we have an uneasy alliance where it doesn't make me look bad, as long as I stay out of its way.

Ps. If you ever meet this short alien creature on the road, give it a beer and send it on its way.
PPs. It shows a preference for craft beer.

This road T-junctions into the tar road that leads into Lambertsbaai, a beautiful little town, where we sit down outside Isabella's and have a few beers beer. To help soak up the beer, we also order toasted sandwich and chips. The weather has turned mellow and deep, and we sit back contentedly looking out over the picturesque harbour, discussing this and that.

Uneasy road fellows.

Swapping out umbrellas until we find an unbroken one.

 

[Ri]

Day 10 (cont'd)

The plan is to visit Elandsbaai next. While sipping our beer, Wayne mentions that it would be great if we could find a gravel route to Clanwilliam, from where we could follow the gravel road to Klaver alongside the Olifantsfivier, neither of us being tar lovers. Challenge accepted! I activate MapOut and start plotting routes, and we agree on a longish route that means we'll skip Elandsbaai and have to fuel up again.

We head out and just past Graafwater turn right onto a tar road. It remains a tar road for far too long, but then it ends in a gravel road clearly used quite intensively by trucks, where we turn left. A few kilometres down this gravel road, we turn left again onto Witelskloofpas, and it is magical, meandering through "Fynbos" and orchard farms and majestic rocks. High on the pass, we catch a glimpse of Clanwilliam Dam. It is glorious.

A road that sees heavy truck traffic

Heading for the hills.

The air is fragrant with the scent of various  blossoms. We take a break when we hit a short stretch of tar and Wayne points out the many bee hives in the orchard.

Crawling with bees.

The road becomes gravel again, thankfully, and the mountainous terrain reminds of a smaller version of Seweweekspoort.

What's down here?

Not long after, we head through Clanwilliam on tar and turn onto the Klawer road. The road eventually becomes gravel again, and it is a fun twisty ride that follows the course of the Olifants River for a while, with amazing views around every bend. Eventually it broadens and straightens out. We blast ahead, the lowering sun turning our dust into a golden haze and blinding our eyes (sidenote: blast that Shoei; I love the perfect fit, but WHO THE HECK thought such a short little peak would have any value?!! Can I buy a longer peak?)

On a long straight stretch I ride into deep shade cast over the road by the sun sinking behind a row of tall trees. Out of the sudden dimness a white half moon rises: a big, smooth, round white stone bedded deeply into the road. Panther bears down on it, fast and true. I barely have time to lift my behind out of the saddle and tighten my grip on the handlebars, bracing for impact. Panther hits it straight on, and we launch into the air. It is probably only a few millimetres high, but for a weightless moment it feels like we're flying. Panther comes down nose first and stays straight, but when the back wheel lands it quickly swerves from side to side unnervingly. I keep the throttle steady and soon we pull straight again. My compulsive swallow pushes my bumping heart down again to rest above my heaving stomach. It happens so quickly that the fright only comes afterwards. I laugh in exhilaration and relief tinged with hysteria. Talk about touch and go!

We reach the camp without further excitement. Two locals arrive for the happy hour and we all sit and chat for a bit. The one local is well acquainted with my launch stone as he regularly has to dodge it in his bakkie. I order dinner, a R120-braaipack consisting of 2 pieces of boerewors, 2 pieces of chicken, a sizeable lamb tjop, an even bigger pork tjop, and a braaibroodjie, served with a lovely fresh salad.

I take a quick shower and don my cozzie to make use of the warm pool - what better way to shake off the "skrik" of my moon landing. The water is indeed warm and I lazily drift around, ordering a drink from the bar to one side and taking a sip now and then. While our host prepares my dinner, the locals gather closer and we chat about "koeitjies en kalfies" and my route for the next day. Then Wayne waves a mouthwatering plate of grilled goodies in my direction, and I climb out the pool to eat my dinner.

The dinner is too much, and I happily cut the rest in pieces and stash it in an empty container. I chat to Wayne about nice roads nearby, and then open MapOut to plan my route to Fraserburg. Finally I head off to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a loooong day.

 

[Ri]

Day 11

I decided where I'm riding to for the last days of my vacation: first to Fraserburg to say hi to my mom, and then to Cederberg Oasis to say hi to Gerrit. I'll cover some roads for the 2nd time, and even a 3rd time in the case of the R354 to Calvinia. How I get to Oasis from Fraserburg I still need to figure out. Richtersveld can wait, maybe I'll go next year June.

The trek from Klawer, to Fraserburg, avoiding all tar as far as possible, is going to be a bit of a stretch at around 405km at my sub-100kph pace, but Wayne suggested some nice roads.

I rise latish - I'm on vacation, after all. I rearrange my luggage for the umpteenth time, pay my bills and say my good byes. Wayne is green around the gills - if he didn't have commitments the coming weekend, he would have been on his bike in a flash to join me for the ride. It had been a lekker few days, and I look forward to visiting Nama again. I already have plans for a girls weekend, relaxing with drinks in the warm pool :3some:

I leave Nama and on the gravel road, turn the bike right, back towards Clanwilliam. Not far down the road, I find the turn off to Brand se Berg, and head that way.

Nice sweeping views meet me at every bend

I pass Bushmen's Cave or Kloof (I think) or some similarly named luxury guest farm. My nose keeps itching and when I stop and rub it, blood starts gushing out. My nasal cavities don't do well in dry, hot weather and I suffered many a nosebleed as a child. I yank my helmet off my head and throw my head back, hoping I didn't splatter anywhere. I hate having to swallow, but can't exactly spit either.

I pull an extra bottle of water from my backpack and pour water over the back of my neck, and wipe my bloody face clean. I pour water over my buff, thoroughly wetting it, and pull it over my head again, hoping for a slight breeze. I stuff a tissue up my nose and wait for the leaky artery to close up. Idly I wonder what would happen if I took up enduro racing and suffer a nosebleed during a race.

The drippy nose dries up and after dealing with the fallout, I get going again.

I pass through Doringbosch and Botterkloof again, and the big sign advertising the sale of the Botterkloof Estate again catches my eye. If I had a few mil going spare, I would have been very tempted; it is a beautiful valley. Then up the Botterkloof Pass and pretty soon I pass the Soutpan Road again. Ah, good times!

Soon the gravel gets a tar coat and very reticently I turn towards Calvinia. I need to fill up. I speed up along the tar to get it over with, and even though it can't be much of a distance, the road feels far too long.

 

[Ri]

Day 11 (cont'd)

For the first time since the Tankwa XC Rally, there are other vehicles on the road again. It feels a bit jarring after my slower pace of riding in glorious solitude. The past few days, some days I would only see one car. I stop at a fuel station and fill up, then speed through town to the gravel road that will take me to Fraserburg, like a rat heads for the sewer.

Site for sore tyres

The road seems to stretch into infinity, and after 10 days of riding, my behind is taking strain. Apart from inexplicably sore knees at the end of every day, my bum is the big casualty on this holiday. And of course the twisted finger, which somehow manages to broadcast its pain to the adjacent fingers, so that the middle finger and pinky aches in sympathy, while it doesn't ache itself. And yet, being on the road makes me forget all the little aches and discomforts until it is time to stop and stiffly dismount.

Oh, the times my boot has hooked on the luggage and almost brought the bike down with me because the leg is too stiff to lift high enough ...

Before Middlepos, the road turns towards Sutherland.

After this, I have to keep a sharp eye on the faded road signs to make sure I don't miss the correct road. Last time I travelled up Gannaga Pass and on to Fraserburg, I missed my turn and took a parallel road starting 10km further on that also reaches Fraserburg. With hindsight, that is a much nicer road to take than the Sutherland road I ended up taking, although it too has some highlights.

Some squinting at MapOut ensues to ensure I take the right fork here.

Did I mention this road lasts forever?

Stop and check how far I still have to go: It's 14:35 and I've barely covered half the day's distance. Best get a move on, girl!

Behold, a gate! Some welcome relief.

 

[VaalBaas]

Behold, a gate! Some welcome relief.

:laughing4: :laughing4:

 

[Ri]

Day 11 (cont'd)

Suddenly there's a confusion of sign boards, and a "vae spesmaas" makes me stop and investigate all.

Looks like a nice, friendly road, kind to the tyres...?

And hiding behind these two choices, the ONLY sign pointing out this road, facing the direction I was NOT travelling from... my hunch proves correct.

"This is the way; ride in it" (paraphrasing Is. 30:21)

Very soon the quiet solace is threatened by a dire warning, and I wonder about the history (and veracity) of this dramatic sign. What risk?

What camera? Should I put on some make up?

Fraserburg must be at least a 100km away still, is it really the closest SAPD? And no disrespect to our fine upstanding Police Force members in Fraserburg, but how long to even get here to start an investigation? But I digress. Always (OK, mostly) a dutiful citizen, I make very sure to close the gate behind me and continue on my journey into the cellphone signalless back of beyond.

If mentioned this before, please forgive, but even though on this trip I featured my first puncture ever, and on the intractable back tyre no less, and was now riding without a spare back tube, I'd lost my fear of getting another puncture. After straying into, over and down that remote rocky abyss without getting stranded or damaging my tyres, I stopped riding like a granny, braking for every bump, stone and rocky ridge in the path, although I avoid sharp stones.

I ride for my enjoyment, and I can't enjoy the ride while I'm in fear of punctures - or falling, for that matter. I'm fairly lightweight compared to most bikers. I don't ride fast enough to slam into obstacles (well, mostly) and don't deflate my tyres in challenging terrain, as I hold a completely unsubstantiated theory that riding with deflated tyres aid punctures (Heresy!! I hear some rider friends moan). I also trust that if such a thing happens to me again, there will be help at hand, as has been the case.

Soooo not so much fearless as stupid :imaposer: But it gives me the freedom to climb on my bike and head out on my own, gaining confidence through the struggles and relishing every new adventure, sighing blissfully to myself, how blessed am I?

I have a tendency not to stop much when I'm riding by myself. I don't need smoke breaks, I carry my water on my back, and seldom feel the need to snack. I learnt the pleasure of a tea break riding with Keith in June, but even though I have various cappucino mix packages, water and my gas canister close at hand, I still don't stop much, except quick stops for comfort cum photo breaks.

Getting up late very day doesn't really help. It doesn't give me much time to relax during the day, especially when I have to cover 400km. And even though I don't mind riding in the dark, and even relish it, I feel bad for people who have to wait up for me. It's also annoying trying to unpack in the dark... mistakes are made.

Today my unsnackiness catches up with me. I start to feel tired and limp, lose concentration and ride faster than prudence suggests. The next time a comfort break becomes necessary, I remember the leftover braai meat I'd packed in last night - half a braaibroodjie, pig chop chopped up, a piece of chicken and braaiwors. Food fit for a king :drif:

I choose a rock with a view and savour the left over braaibroodjie, wors and some of the chop. Heaven.

Not long after my break, I reach the R356 linking Sutherland and Fraserburg, and turn left.

A few more kilometres and I reach my destination. Today has been a six hour long slog, and apart from stiffness and a planky bottom, I mostly feel fine. My favourite Richa riding gloves have become quite holey though and I regret that I'll have to get rid of them soon. I haven't yet seen or found any gloves as well-made, and idly wonder whether it would be possible to still find and import the same range.

I arranged to stay with some family friends near the retirement home. After I unpack and settle in, it is still light and I walk to the retirement home to see my mom unannounced. She is surprised and happy to see me, and immediately asks for tea. I make her her favourite snack as well, matzo spread with butter and dabbed with Bovril - that bit that looks like she's holding a joint :

We chat until it she tires and chases me out. I walk back to the house in darkness, have dinner and go to sleep. It's been a long, unexpectedly lovely day.

 

[big oil]

  :drif:  :imaposer:  :laughing4:

Welllllllll........ I must confess that at first glance, I thought, what a lovely elderly woman with a perfectly rolled joint  :imaposer:

 

[Ri]

  :drif:  :imaposer:  :laughing4:

Welllllllll........ I must confess that at first glance, I thought, what a lovely elderly woman with a perfectly rolled joint  :imaposer:

Glad you read for clarification, I think many people only glance at the peekchas :laughing4:

Was the consensus on Facebook as well. I admit it would have been hilarious to sneak her a joint, but she's never smoked in her life. Maybe I should investigate edibles :sip:

 

[Xpat]

Good to see you exploring properly Ri :thumleft:

But I would strongly suggest that you learn how to change a tube and even patch a tube (for example if you would have puncture on the wheel for which I already used up spare tube). It is not that difficult and for this kind of trips very essential, and will increase an enjoyment of the trip even further giving you peace of mind that should you get flat, you are ready to deal with it.

 

[big oil]

  :drif:  :imaposer:  :laughing4:

Welllllllll........ I must confess that at first glance, I thought, what a lovely elderly woman with a perfectly rolled joint  :imaposer:

Glad you read for clarification, I think many people only glance at the peekchas :laughing4:

Was the consensus on Facebook as well. I admit it would have been hilarious to sneak her a joint, but she's never smoked in her life. Maybe I should investige edibles :sip:

I kin reed sum wurds uv engle lish, Miss Ri  :deal:  Eyes tipkilly reed all ur engle lish wurds in ur Riports, Miss Ri.

As fur as Ed Dibbles goes, if she's in any pain, sum green brow neez will make her hap pee and hope furly, pane fre.  O0

 

[Ri]

  :drif:  :imaposer:  :laughing4:

Welllllllll........ I must confess that at first glance, I thought, what a lovely elderly woman with a perfectly rolled joint  :imaposer:

Glad you read for clarification, I think many people only glance at the peekchas :laughing4:

Was the consensus on Facebook as well. I admit it would have been hilarious to sneak her a joint, but she's never smoked in her life. Maybe I should investige edibles :sip:

I kin reed sum wurds uv engle lish, Miss Ri  :deal:  Eyes tipkilly reed all ur engle lish wurds in ur Riports, Miss Ri.

As fur as Ed Dibbles goes, if she's in any pain, sum green brow neez will make her hap pee and hope furly, pane fre.  O0

:laughing4: In my head this sounded like Forest Gump :imaposer: 

She loves brown knees. :thumleft:

 

[Ri]

Good to see you exploring properly Ri :thumleft:

But I would strongly suggest that you learn how to change a tube and even patch a tube (for example if you would have puncture on the wheel for which I already used up spare tube). It is not that difficult and for this kind of trips very essential, and will increase an enjoyment of the trip even further giving you peace of mind that should you get flat, you are ready to deal with it.

Thanks, I really enjoy it :biggrin: I'm surprised you don't suggest a smaller bike ... not that I'll find lower than the DR650. I'm also very surprised where I managed to ride with it, and I'm sorry I didn't take more photo's.

You're right of course, I know you are, but learning to change or patch a tube takes time, and I'm lazy, I'd rather spend the time riding. I know I'll get around to it, and hopefully not when I already needed it.

 

[Xpat]

Why would I suggest smaller bike? For this kind of trip your bike is just fine and I would never recommend or attempt to do it on something like high strung 450/500, that I like for more technical trips.

And learning to change a tube doesn't require to sacrifice riding or anything. You can do it easily during work week in the evening. And if you fail or get tired of it, it is easy to take to a mechanic to finish off. All I'm saying is being able to fix flat will encourage you to explore even further off the beaten track knowing that should flat happen - as they inevitably do - you will be able to fix it and move on with the trip without too much delay or drama. I'm useless mechanic, but this really doesn't require much of a skill and increases your independence manyfold. But of course it is ultimately your call  :thumleft:

 

[Ri]

Day 11 (cont'd)

The friends I'm staying with have taken on tourism in Fraserburg. They created a circuit of interesting things to see and experience around Fraserburg, an archeological treasure.

A fossilised tortoise that accompanies the "Paleo Tour" to view dinosaur footprints embedded long ago in riverbeds. The tour is presented by my friend, Marthinus Kruger. I strongly suggest you experience this when you visit Fraserburg. Marthinus, a retired magistrate, is passionate about his new hobby, and also now manages the Fraserburg Museum.

Some ***** for those of us with feline fetishes