Bummer, I can't see Mark's pics.
In the meantime, here's a great big thank you to all the riders who showed up, and especially, thanks to the organisers for a great day.
WEll, here's my piece......
6h30 and I have to pry myself from the vice-like grip of Flower of the North. The warm embrace is a hard place to extract myself from, especially when I take the bike out of the garage to check the oil and tyres. Crumbs, had I known what was in store, I may just have stayed right there. :twisted:
Donning the "suit", I take off to meet Mark and Wes on Plattekloof road. I arrive at 7h2 to a call from Mark who obviously had an equally challenging time extracting himself from Extreme Velcro (mmm :roll: ). Wes and Mark finally arrive and we take off for a flight up the N1 to make the meet on time. With Mark on the katoom dictating the pace, the Strom is revelling in the cold morning ride while Wes is hanging onto the Dakar with a wind blown grin - or was it the chilly nuts????? :roll: :x At this time, I'm thinking it would be really nice to have a pair of Winter gloves. I glance down and there, wedged in the crash bars are a pair of lovely warm gore-tex and leather gloves. :shock: Must remember not to do that again.
Arriving at the meeting spot, we're greeted by a car park full off proven and capable off-road machinery - and another Wee Strom. :wink:
As was said earlier, the two passes on tar road are dispatched with speed, the Strom revelling in the low level flight and carving through the tight twisties of the Franschoek Pass. I eventually parked up with the leading two bikes, grinning from ear to ear with exhiliration.
Onto the first dirt section and I take up my normal position at the tail of the column. Suffice to say, we reach tar again, a small motley crew of lost individuals. Decision to head back is applied with a KLR rider taking off like a scalded cat at a blistering pace. Anyway, we're able to keep the mob together till we reach what we think is the BotRivier t/o. A call to Mark confirms the route, instructions are "at the fork, take the right and follow that...", um, there was a T-Junction to confuse us more. Some riders take off to the right while the rest sit at the junction to find the route. Chris on the other Strom checksthe GPS and suggests the better route is to the left. Whowever was on the Vara, hats off to him, as he takes off like a whippet after a rabbit in chase of the escaping bikes. A short while later, the first returning bikes hove into view. A nearly very nasty prang is avoided as one of the returnees comes flying through the parked bikes, almost t-boning a KLR. I had shivers for a while thereafter thinking about what could have een.
Anywa, Wes, Chris and myself wait for the riders to return and we then set off, only to lose the mob again. :x Passing a farm and some labourers cottages, a litle 'un about 4 or 5 picks up a stone, takes aim and with a perfect pitch lobs a rock at me. I stop and turn back, riding up to the cottages with a seething temper. Short of torching the place, I ride to the farmers house and let them know about the happenings. With a fiercely apologetic lady promising to take the matter in hand, we rejoin the road.
A short while later, we're greeted by Mark who has kindly come back to round up the lost flock. With Mark in the lead, Wes and I and Chris at the tail, we'r having great fun doing power-slides on the lose surface and evelling in the high speed off-road run. And then, The Wes decides to do a foot-out motoX left hand bend - the bike goes straight, Wes grabs for the front brake and "fortunately", the bike decks before he runs into the solid bank. We drag Wes out of the ditch and extract the bike from the gully (of course after the fits of laughter end and we take the pictures of the bike in the ditch). Wes comments on how "it's my turn to provide the entertainment next" - how close to reality was this statement.
WE're then led to Botrivier where we enjoy an ice-cold bevvie and the tales of the first events are being told - much to the amuzement of the gathered riders.
The riders looking for every ounce of excitement from the day take a run on the pass which proves hugely entertaining, despite me depositing the Strom into the fynbos when I'm caught watching other bikes and not paying attention to the trail. With giggles and laughs, we extract the Strom from the bush, and I onc again admire the strength of the Strom's protection from minor spills.
Shortly thereafter, we arrive at the end of this first section t find one of society's lowest life forms cowering behind the armco - prick! With his van hidden and him cowering, I ask why he hides like that and doesn't make himself visible, "oh, you can see the camera" he says. Oh what restraint one must practice!
A short while later and another dirt section despatched and we arrive to a audience. The wonderful couple on the yellow 1200GS are taking pitures and as we ride up at around 60, I stupidly add some showboating to the proceedings by locking the back wheel. And, like a box, I drift the bike into a slide which eventually ends with the bike highsiding me. I quickly jumped up to dust off "The Suit" and then the agony of picking up the bike to reveal the damage. With surprise, I find a few minor scratches and a broken indicator - testament to the strength of the bars. The bike starts first time and gently purrs away, my heart swelling with pride and pity. Thanks to all the guys who helped lift the bike and check everything over.
So, with the damage already done and me feeling a bit of a pull from a calf tendon, there's no harm to me. Today is a good day!
Later, we enter the technical section (to me) which takes us to the top of the mountain. Wes, Chris and I gingerly make our way through some of the tricky conditions, with wes and I each experiencing another drop. Damn, I really hate sand!
The incredible views and wonderful solitude makes the chellenges all the more pleasant and enjoyable and we revel in the sense of achievement, the Noobies are learning!
Wes takes another slow speed drop in sand on the way back down the mountain and eventually we join the tar for a short ride into Kleinmond.
With hunger pangs causing physical pain, we order a beer and Pizza which doesn't even touch sides. The banter and fun is brilliant - and it is now that we're informed that my little "stupid" moment has been videod. OK, any thought of "keeping that between ourselves" evaporates with the mist from the crashing waves at the bottom of the car park.
Mark, Chris, Red Adv and another GS take off for a scalding run on the Kleinmond to Gordon's bay road, before a low-level flight home via the N2 and R300.
Today, the Strom sat waiting in the garage and fired first time, eager to please for the commute to the office. I walk away with a painful heart as I look back at the filthy bruised Strom, covered in dust and muck. A call to Warwick today and the replacement indicators (better as they're on a far shorter stem), I learn are a mere R110.00.
This evening, the Wee got a scrub and lube, followed by a polish and wow, apart from the rash on a small part of fairing and a scratch in the Strom sticker, the bike carries no scars from the crash. I'll spray the bars on the weekend and replace the indicators and it'll be hard to tell that the bike was high-sided. I'm blown away by the tough little Strom.
Once again, thanks to all the organisers and also to the riders who helped and lead us on a fantastic adventure. The Noobies are learning and fortunately, the lessons aren't too expensive.
Looking forward to the next ride, although I think I'll wait for a few days till the aches and pains stop! :x
Cheers
Lawrence
