Jehanneman
Puppy
This is the story of a boy growing up; the story of how I got bike and beard.
I do not write this to necessarily be the most exiting read, I rather write honestly what comes to mind as I look back. If you enjoy it read on, otherwise move on. (And please excuse my primitive English)
My first bike story I can`t even remember but I am told that I was in hospital as toddler. I cried for hours on end, needed my mother (and teddy) every second and was so traumatized that I could barely move. Everybody thought I was terribly ill. Luckily my parents took me home regardless of my alarming state. When I was put down at home, I walked straight to my scooter and rode it as fast as I could round and round the house- all signs of illness gone immediately! As soon as I realized I was rescued from that hostile place and back with my “bike”, my little heart healed completely.
As a kid, I always thought I would ride a bike when I become “big”(even though no-one in my frame of reference had one). But then it happened even before I became “big”. When I was 14 my father got himself this, for me...
My father was no biker. As a young man, he had a Honda 175 for a year or 2 after he left the army (diensplig) until he could afford a car. Later he got a Vespa but also sold it quickly. Thereafter he had no plans to ever start riding again. For more than two decades his non riding habits entrenched themselves deeper and deeper with no hope of riding ever returning to the 50+ year old man who never did anything even remotely risky (or so I thought)... until he read a book (remember: the keyboard is mightier than the AK 47).
So what could someone possibly write that was so powerful as to get my father out of his groove? (the only difference between a groove and a grave is the depth) That someone was John Elderedge with his book “Wild at Heart”. He wrote that men will always be adventurous at heart. You can tame a man, make a pen pusher out of him with his greatest ambitions in life a neat tie and shiny shoes, but you can never tame his heart. If you refuse your heart all freedom it will hide away so deep that you may never find it again, but it will never be civilized. The book helped my father to find his heart again and it was still, well WILD.
You can imagine my exiteamazement when my father asked me one morning to go with him to shop for a bike (and miss school). It was the first time that anything so adventurous and wonderful had happened in my life. So unexpected, especially coming from my father (well that is what can happen when a man’s heart is given some free reigns). A few weeks later we got the first adventure bike in my life: a Zongshen 200cc on-off road. (How he got from finding his heart again to buying a bike I will explain later.)
About a hour after the bike was dropped off at our home, we left on our first adventure ride. And what an adventure! It was my first time on a bike. We took on the gravel roads of the Waterberg area. We got lost, fell in the sand, rode at about 20km/h (my father had no experience with riding sandy roads), froze and arrived deep in the night at our destination. What an unforgettable experience. (Often so with first experiences, so make sure you make the right memories.)
We named the Zongshen “Ribbok”. I have many sweet memories of the days I spent behind my father on that little bike. Later on he taught me how to ride after which we would swap places from time to time on remote gravel roads (I was too young to get a licence). What I learned from the pillion-riding experience is that you actually see more of the surroundings and that its more relaxing than riding the bike (only if you trust the rider).
Ribbok taught me that an adventure bike need not be big, fast or expensive. Ribbok is a Chinese made bike with a top speed around 100km/h and an optimistic 10kw max power. Its also lead heavy for its small size. Still, we had amazing adventures on it that many limobike (1200 GS and the like) riders never experience. It is not what you ride that matters but where you take your steed and how far beyond your comfort zone you are taken.
Above: Muddy roads near Koster: it was part of a 3 day trip we did on Ribbok in October 2007. It rained most of the time. This is where I saw cars slide off the rode like they were driving on ice. Needless to say we fell that day.
A valley near Groot Marico on that same trip in the rain. The weather was miserable but it made the adventure just all the more exiting and the views more beautiful. Everything was washed clean and joyful for the rain. Today my favourite weather to ride in is soft continuous rain! How you experience adventure only depends on your attitude, the same can be said about many things in life (and I am talking to myself here).
Above: The entrance to the Baviaanskloof (Dec 2008): another 3 day trip we did on Ribbok. No, we did not ride the bike all the way from Pretoria.
In deep water in the Baviaans. We took 2 days to do the kloof. There are times and places to ride fast, but the Baviaanskloof ain’t one of them. We seldom did more than 300km a day on Ribbok.
Cars, trucks and busses that overtook us drove right over my ego. It was so humiliating to be overtaken by slowcoaches and that happened countless times. I often wished that my father would ride faster and that Ribbok was faster. But, in places like this there is nothing better than to be the pillion rider of a slow bike with an even slower rider.
I lied to you earlier on, Ribbok was not the first motorcycle in my life, I had one before that. When I was 10 years old I had the fastest off road bike on the planet. I used to imagine that of my bicycle. Children are as rich as their imaginations. I had many guns (sticks), a horse (another stick), a parrot (a stone), diamonds (more stones), a farm (a piece of bare soil in our garden), a house (a tree), a ship (another tree), a castle (yet another one), etc. I had more then, than I could dream to have now.
Above: The Baviaans.
I used to be so rich because I was inspired to play (in fact I had very little compared many other kids). My mother used to read me many stories of adventure and life that captured my imagination and this inspired me. I played adventures for days similar to the stories she read me. Those were good days but there comes a time to grow up. There comes a time when we need to leave the hen’s nest and start to walk with the older bulls.
Above: on the road between Patensie and Steitlerville.
Ideally we need to be taken out of the nest by our fathers and be initiated into the world of men over a couple of years (if not, we may ether break out ourselves, which can be very hard, or remain with the women i.e. become gay). Ribbok helped my father to take me from the nest.
My father and I are in many ways opposites. We have totally different interests and personalities. Yet, the humble Ribbok was able to build a bridge between us, to allow us to find a mutual interest in adventure riding. It created the opportunity for my father to show me the ways of men, to take me from the nest. Even though it was only in one area of life (riding) it did make a difference. Here is how he decided to buy Ribbok: he got a little bit of “higher wisdom”. To be continued.
I do not write this to necessarily be the most exiting read, I rather write honestly what comes to mind as I look back. If you enjoy it read on, otherwise move on. (And please excuse my primitive English)
My first bike story I can`t even remember but I am told that I was in hospital as toddler. I cried for hours on end, needed my mother (and teddy) every second and was so traumatized that I could barely move. Everybody thought I was terribly ill. Luckily my parents took me home regardless of my alarming state. When I was put down at home, I walked straight to my scooter and rode it as fast as I could round and round the house- all signs of illness gone immediately! As soon as I realized I was rescued from that hostile place and back with my “bike”, my little heart healed completely.
As a kid, I always thought I would ride a bike when I become “big”(even though no-one in my frame of reference had one). But then it happened even before I became “big”. When I was 14 my father got himself this, for me...
My father was no biker. As a young man, he had a Honda 175 for a year or 2 after he left the army (diensplig) until he could afford a car. Later he got a Vespa but also sold it quickly. Thereafter he had no plans to ever start riding again. For more than two decades his non riding habits entrenched themselves deeper and deeper with no hope of riding ever returning to the 50+ year old man who never did anything even remotely risky (or so I thought)... until he read a book (remember: the keyboard is mightier than the AK 47).
So what could someone possibly write that was so powerful as to get my father out of his groove? (the only difference between a groove and a grave is the depth) That someone was John Elderedge with his book “Wild at Heart”. He wrote that men will always be adventurous at heart. You can tame a man, make a pen pusher out of him with his greatest ambitions in life a neat tie and shiny shoes, but you can never tame his heart. If you refuse your heart all freedom it will hide away so deep that you may never find it again, but it will never be civilized. The book helped my father to find his heart again and it was still, well WILD.
You can imagine my exiteamazement when my father asked me one morning to go with him to shop for a bike (and miss school). It was the first time that anything so adventurous and wonderful had happened in my life. So unexpected, especially coming from my father (well that is what can happen when a man’s heart is given some free reigns). A few weeks later we got the first adventure bike in my life: a Zongshen 200cc on-off road. (How he got from finding his heart again to buying a bike I will explain later.)
About a hour after the bike was dropped off at our home, we left on our first adventure ride. And what an adventure! It was my first time on a bike. We took on the gravel roads of the Waterberg area. We got lost, fell in the sand, rode at about 20km/h (my father had no experience with riding sandy roads), froze and arrived deep in the night at our destination. What an unforgettable experience. (Often so with first experiences, so make sure you make the right memories.)
We named the Zongshen “Ribbok”. I have many sweet memories of the days I spent behind my father on that little bike. Later on he taught me how to ride after which we would swap places from time to time on remote gravel roads (I was too young to get a licence). What I learned from the pillion-riding experience is that you actually see more of the surroundings and that its more relaxing than riding the bike (only if you trust the rider).
Ribbok taught me that an adventure bike need not be big, fast or expensive. Ribbok is a Chinese made bike with a top speed around 100km/h and an optimistic 10kw max power. Its also lead heavy for its small size. Still, we had amazing adventures on it that many limobike (1200 GS and the like) riders never experience. It is not what you ride that matters but where you take your steed and how far beyond your comfort zone you are taken.
Above: Muddy roads near Koster: it was part of a 3 day trip we did on Ribbok in October 2007. It rained most of the time. This is where I saw cars slide off the rode like they were driving on ice. Needless to say we fell that day.
A valley near Groot Marico on that same trip in the rain. The weather was miserable but it made the adventure just all the more exiting and the views more beautiful. Everything was washed clean and joyful for the rain. Today my favourite weather to ride in is soft continuous rain! How you experience adventure only depends on your attitude, the same can be said about many things in life (and I am talking to myself here).
Above: The entrance to the Baviaanskloof (Dec 2008): another 3 day trip we did on Ribbok. No, we did not ride the bike all the way from Pretoria.
In deep water in the Baviaans. We took 2 days to do the kloof. There are times and places to ride fast, but the Baviaanskloof ain’t one of them. We seldom did more than 300km a day on Ribbok.
Cars, trucks and busses that overtook us drove right over my ego. It was so humiliating to be overtaken by slowcoaches and that happened countless times. I often wished that my father would ride faster and that Ribbok was faster. But, in places like this there is nothing better than to be the pillion rider of a slow bike with an even slower rider.
I lied to you earlier on, Ribbok was not the first motorcycle in my life, I had one before that. When I was 10 years old I had the fastest off road bike on the planet. I used to imagine that of my bicycle. Children are as rich as their imaginations. I had many guns (sticks), a horse (another stick), a parrot (a stone), diamonds (more stones), a farm (a piece of bare soil in our garden), a house (a tree), a ship (another tree), a castle (yet another one), etc. I had more then, than I could dream to have now.
Above: The Baviaans.
I used to be so rich because I was inspired to play (in fact I had very little compared many other kids). My mother used to read me many stories of adventure and life that captured my imagination and this inspired me. I played adventures for days similar to the stories she read me. Those were good days but there comes a time to grow up. There comes a time when we need to leave the hen’s nest and start to walk with the older bulls.
Above: on the road between Patensie and Steitlerville.
Ideally we need to be taken out of the nest by our fathers and be initiated into the world of men over a couple of years (if not, we may ether break out ourselves, which can be very hard, or remain with the women i.e. become gay). Ribbok helped my father to take me from the nest.
My father and I are in many ways opposites. We have totally different interests and personalities. Yet, the humble Ribbok was able to build a bridge between us, to allow us to find a mutual interest in adventure riding. It created the opportunity for my father to show me the ways of men, to take me from the nest. Even though it was only in one area of life (riding) it did make a difference. Here is how he decided to buy Ribbok: he got a little bit of “higher wisdom”. To be continued.
