eikeboom
Race Dog
Nice Roxenz.
Well told with very nice photos, thanks!
Well told with very nice photos, thanks!
The Longdrop Cruise to Geluksburg *** complete ***
- Thread starter roxenz
- Start date
Hondsekierie said:
:thumleft:
Sunday
I wake up in the still-dark hours of the morning. It’s raining. I feel around for the water bottle to slake a dryness in my throat. Eeeek! Something cold and wet! Flustered I fumble for the torch and switch it on: a little puddle of water inside my tent! A quick recce shows it is only in the indentation that the heavy toolbag makes in the groundsheet. Disappointing, but then it is a cheap Chinese tent from Game. No biggie. I go back to sleep with the raindrops beating a random beat on the flysheet.
With daylight I wake up again. Still raining, so I start packing up inside the tent: dirty stuff at bottom of the ATG bag, then heavy stuff and clean lightweight stuff on top. The rain has tapered off to only a very light drizzle – time for coffee.
Breakfast consists of some sweet biscuits (yegghh early in the morning – I don’t have a sweet tooth), but the cup of coffee bolstered with some Klippies works some magic. The rain is in retreat and the day is looking better by the moment. Then I remember about the food of the previous evening: the most divine lamb on a spit. This was a culinary work of art: basted with a herby, tangy concoction and grilled to absolute perfection! And a big black cast iron pot full of putupap (regte krummelpap). I wonder if there may be anything left over? A quick inspection finds succulent strips of rare lamb still on the bone, a pot still quarter-full of pap and some sauce as well. Breakfast for champions! The slight nagging feeling that the dirt roads I was planning to ride home may be snotty after plenty rain during the night receded against the general feeling of well-being generated by the polisie koffie and the scrumptious food.
Folks are getting organised and the first riders leave after loud greetings and many wishes for safe riding. I finish up my packing, have another cup of coffee and find myself ready to roll. Most folks are already gone. I say goodbye and thank you to Draadkar and family, and all the other guys who pitched in to organise a brilliant weekend. On my bike!
The route I had planned for the home-bound leg goes through the eastern Free State east of the N3: via Swinburne, Verkykerskop and Cornelia, then west past the Vaal Dam, to hit the inevitable tar at Sasolburg. As always, the Tenere fires at first contact and I make my way up into the clouds covering the Middledale Pass. By now I know the pass and its potholes well. The misty cloud envelopes me in my private universe as I ride up, keeping a keen eye out for livestock. No rush to get home and mentally I go over the route I have in mind, deciding to stick to the dirt in spite of the wet roads.
At the top I find a little bunch of dogs (including Laurika, Pistol and Big Ray) at the shebeen, having their notion of “breakfast”. I say a last good-bye and head off. Soon the broken tar gives way to gravel. In spite of the rain, the gravel is not particularly slippery and soon I get to the T-junction, keeping right to Swinburne on the S800. Up on the escarpment the rain must have been much less: the road is only damp and makes for quick riding.
I have never been to Swinburne and miss it completely. Well I ride right past it, but have to look afterwards on MapSource to realise it. Second breakfast therefore has to wait, with no idea where. I follow the S790 northwards. No traffic around, good gravel and I enjoy riding quickish, the kilos counting down on the GPS.
I get to a perfectly orthogonal crossing of the S790 and S61, where I stop to stretch the legs and work my back a bit. I don’t know where/when, but I hurt my lower back a bit during Saturday’s riding and now it is bothering me. Not really painful, just a nuisance. Looking around, I stand in awe of the beauty: the big sky, the rolling green knolls with lonely trees here and there. Staring at the derelict building (below) it strikes me how few people of any description I have seen whilst riding through these rural parts. I don’t know whether it just is like that for some historic reasons, or whether there really has been a major de-population of the rural areas. It feels almost scary, living in the throbbing masses of Jozi, to see all this good land with no people. Apocalyptic almost.
I walk into the centre of the cross-roads (no fear of being flattened by a speeding driver), and take pictures in each major direction of the compass: first to the North:
Then to the East:
Then to the South (whence I came):
And finally to the West, the direction I’m going.
The point is, one could pick any one of these roads, any direction, and be assured of great gravel travel. I re-affirm in my mind that the eastern Free State is where I want go “off-grid” one day, when the kids are on their own, and I may (or may not) feel like telling the rest of the planet to piss off.
The S691 takes me to a bit of tar (disappointment) which leads me to Verkykerskop. Here I have not been either, and the little place flashes by. Subliminally the name “Verkykerskop” on one of the signs register somewhere in my brain, and I slow down and turn around. Having missed Swinburne, I am not going to miss this landmark as well! Riding back slowly, I am pleasantly surprised to see that there is a restaurant and it is open. Goody! It is almost eleven o’clock and a brunch will be great.
Since the sun hasn’t really got to heating up properly yet, I go sit on the little veranda, after ordering a coffee and some breakfast. I feel serene sitting there on my own, just staring out in the distance.
A family with little kids arrive for breakfast as well. The kids roam freely, striking up a temporary friendship with a border collie which is only too happy to play fetch. The happy sounds of kids having fun fit in well with the clean air and rural smells.
My brekkie and coffee arrives after a while: it is good, decent bodum coffee and a the food is tasty too. R35 for the lot! I leave a generous tip to the friendly staff. Life is good.
Just after Verkykerskop I veer left onto the S57 towards Vrede. Gravel again – yes! The S57 twists and turns, meeting up with and leaving other dirt roads. Eventually I turn off onto the S894. This is basically tweespoor that drops into a valley inhabited by the Holspruit. Heavenly riding through beautiful surrounds.
The S693 takes me to Vrede, where I fill up. On with the S349 to Cornelia. Knowing that I’m rapidly running out of pretty, I take one last shot of the Free State.
From Cornelia it becomes tricky to find decent dirt to ride. The S758 is pretty boring: almost dead straight, the only skill required is to dodge the worst corrugations. I get a little lost in Frankfort, but eventually find the S159 leading out towards the northwest. It is not a great gravel roads, lots of corrugations. Onto the S46. This a better road, not so much traffic. In fact, in places it devolves into a multiple choice of twin tracks, as cars have tried to find the least muddy parts. The Tenere gets a little dirtier…
Shortly before Sasolburg I join the tar road from Heilbron. From here it is just vasbyt until I get home at around 4PM.
What a great weekend it was! I really enjoy the solitary riding on largely empty roads. I really enjoy the hectic, eclectic company of the Dogs on a bash. And I really enjoy getting home safe and tired. A glass of red wine and a victory cigar.
I wake up in the still-dark hours of the morning. It’s raining. I feel around for the water bottle to slake a dryness in my throat. Eeeek! Something cold and wet! Flustered I fumble for the torch and switch it on: a little puddle of water inside my tent! A quick recce shows it is only in the indentation that the heavy toolbag makes in the groundsheet. Disappointing, but then it is a cheap Chinese tent from Game. No biggie. I go back to sleep with the raindrops beating a random beat on the flysheet.
With daylight I wake up again. Still raining, so I start packing up inside the tent: dirty stuff at bottom of the ATG bag, then heavy stuff and clean lightweight stuff on top. The rain has tapered off to only a very light drizzle – time for coffee.
Breakfast consists of some sweet biscuits (yegghh early in the morning – I don’t have a sweet tooth), but the cup of coffee bolstered with some Klippies works some magic. The rain is in retreat and the day is looking better by the moment. Then I remember about the food of the previous evening: the most divine lamb on a spit. This was a culinary work of art: basted with a herby, tangy concoction and grilled to absolute perfection! And a big black cast iron pot full of putupap (regte krummelpap). I wonder if there may be anything left over? A quick inspection finds succulent strips of rare lamb still on the bone, a pot still quarter-full of pap and some sauce as well. Breakfast for champions! The slight nagging feeling that the dirt roads I was planning to ride home may be snotty after plenty rain during the night receded against the general feeling of well-being generated by the polisie koffie and the scrumptious food.
Folks are getting organised and the first riders leave after loud greetings and many wishes for safe riding. I finish up my packing, have another cup of coffee and find myself ready to roll. Most folks are already gone. I say goodbye and thank you to Draadkar and family, and all the other guys who pitched in to organise a brilliant weekend. On my bike!
The route I had planned for the home-bound leg goes through the eastern Free State east of the N3: via Swinburne, Verkykerskop and Cornelia, then west past the Vaal Dam, to hit the inevitable tar at Sasolburg. As always, the Tenere fires at first contact and I make my way up into the clouds covering the Middledale Pass. By now I know the pass and its potholes well. The misty cloud envelopes me in my private universe as I ride up, keeping a keen eye out for livestock. No rush to get home and mentally I go over the route I have in mind, deciding to stick to the dirt in spite of the wet roads.
At the top I find a little bunch of dogs (including Laurika, Pistol and Big Ray) at the shebeen, having their notion of “breakfast”. I say a last good-bye and head off. Soon the broken tar gives way to gravel. In spite of the rain, the gravel is not particularly slippery and soon I get to the T-junction, keeping right to Swinburne on the S800. Up on the escarpment the rain must have been much less: the road is only damp and makes for quick riding.
I have never been to Swinburne and miss it completely. Well I ride right past it, but have to look afterwards on MapSource to realise it. Second breakfast therefore has to wait, with no idea where. I follow the S790 northwards. No traffic around, good gravel and I enjoy riding quickish, the kilos counting down on the GPS.
I get to a perfectly orthogonal crossing of the S790 and S61, where I stop to stretch the legs and work my back a bit. I don’t know where/when, but I hurt my lower back a bit during Saturday’s riding and now it is bothering me. Not really painful, just a nuisance. Looking around, I stand in awe of the beauty: the big sky, the rolling green knolls with lonely trees here and there. Staring at the derelict building (below) it strikes me how few people of any description I have seen whilst riding through these rural parts. I don’t know whether it just is like that for some historic reasons, or whether there really has been a major de-population of the rural areas. It feels almost scary, living in the throbbing masses of Jozi, to see all this good land with no people. Apocalyptic almost.
I walk into the centre of the cross-roads (no fear of being flattened by a speeding driver), and take pictures in each major direction of the compass: first to the North:
Then to the East:
Then to the South (whence I came):
And finally to the West, the direction I’m going.
The point is, one could pick any one of these roads, any direction, and be assured of great gravel travel. I re-affirm in my mind that the eastern Free State is where I want go “off-grid” one day, when the kids are on their own, and I may (or may not) feel like telling the rest of the planet to piss off.
The S691 takes me to a bit of tar (disappointment) which leads me to Verkykerskop. Here I have not been either, and the little place flashes by. Subliminally the name “Verkykerskop” on one of the signs register somewhere in my brain, and I slow down and turn around. Having missed Swinburne, I am not going to miss this landmark as well! Riding back slowly, I am pleasantly surprised to see that there is a restaurant and it is open. Goody! It is almost eleven o’clock and a brunch will be great.
Since the sun hasn’t really got to heating up properly yet, I go sit on the little veranda, after ordering a coffee and some breakfast. I feel serene sitting there on my own, just staring out in the distance.
A family with little kids arrive for breakfast as well. The kids roam freely, striking up a temporary friendship with a border collie which is only too happy to play fetch. The happy sounds of kids having fun fit in well with the clean air and rural smells.
My brekkie and coffee arrives after a while: it is good, decent bodum coffee and a the food is tasty too. R35 for the lot! I leave a generous tip to the friendly staff. Life is good.
Just after Verkykerskop I veer left onto the S57 towards Vrede. Gravel again – yes! The S57 twists and turns, meeting up with and leaving other dirt roads. Eventually I turn off onto the S894. This is basically tweespoor that drops into a valley inhabited by the Holspruit. Heavenly riding through beautiful surrounds.
The S693 takes me to Vrede, where I fill up. On with the S349 to Cornelia. Knowing that I’m rapidly running out of pretty, I take one last shot of the Free State.
From Cornelia it becomes tricky to find decent dirt to ride. The S758 is pretty boring: almost dead straight, the only skill required is to dodge the worst corrugations. I get a little lost in Frankfort, but eventually find the S159 leading out towards the northwest. It is not a great gravel roads, lots of corrugations. Onto the S46. This a better road, not so much traffic. In fact, in places it devolves into a multiple choice of twin tracks, as cars have tried to find the least muddy parts. The Tenere gets a little dirtier…
Shortly before Sasolburg I join the tar road from Heilbron. From here it is just vasbyt until I get home at around 4PM.
What a great weekend it was! I really enjoy the solitary riding on largely empty roads. I really enjoy the hectic, eclectic company of the Dogs on a bash. And I really enjoy getting home safe and tired. A glass of red wine and a victory cigar.
eepwall:LeonDude
Bachelor Dog
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Thanks Roxens, that's a lekker read.
:thumleft:
:thumleft:
