Verneukpan
With excitement I get up early, today I'm heading to Verneukpan - sure to be one of the highlights of my trip. But, one cannot start a proper day without coffee, and the little kettle and stove is duly brought out to do duty.
After packing everything up and tying it to the bike I realize the bike's keys are still inside the little pocket in the tent. A real Homer Simpson D'oh! moment <facepalm> so I duly unpack the tent again to get the key. Pack it all up again, and set off to the restaurant for a quick breakfast before heading out south. No double rum this time. It wasn't long after reaching the gravel that I realize there's a noise emanating from the left rear, so I stop and inspect and find my chain to be a bit too slack. The noise was probably the chain slapping against the swingarm.
No problem, I've got the bike toolkit with me so I whip it out and try to loosen the rear axle. No joy, the 90Nm holding that nut is quite hard to undo with such a short lever. So I stand up and use my foot against the spanner to loosen the nut, and it springs loose... or so I thought. Damn KTM with their crappy tools!
Nothing I can do now, except to keep riding until the next town at least.
The locusts... let me tell you guys about the locusts. And I'm not talking about these little ones you find in your garden, but ma-se big ones, almost like the ones we used to peg down in school science class. These things are like marbles with wings, their exoskeletons moering against you like you're being paintballed. Bliksem, it hurts, I actually still have a bruise or two. Then the things end up all juicy against your visor - if you remember to close it in time - or gets stuck on your collar and you feel it crawling around your neck. I almost moered off the bike trying to get these things out of my neck while riding. Here's some locusts covering the road, and for some stupid reason they fly up as you approach them. Pleks die donners net bly lê.
I didn't know it at the time, but this was merely a droplet in the bucket, there was much more to come.
On the road south to Kenhart I came across a team dismantling old Telkom towers. Working with such big objects they were sure to have tools so I stopped and asked, and sure enough they had a 32mm spanner I could use to loosen my wheel. This allowed me to adjust my chain correctly.
I came across this rather large windmill, sadly in a non-running state but I'm sure I've seen this in someone's ride report before. So here it is again, still not repaired but impressive nonetheless.
In Kenhart I refueled, bought some meat at the local butcher for supper and headed out to the Verneukpan turnoff.
I wasn't on my GS so I felt safe ignoring this sign. >
This beautiful, long, straight road had me singing Talking Head's Road To Nowhere in my head.
Periodically some little critters would scurry off across the road as I approach, and one stood looking at me for a while. I stopped and slowly walked closer to get a pic, but the little bugger disappeared into his hole.
Sometimes stopping for a break and taking a moment helps one appreciate the beauty of this part of the world.
Soon enough I was on the pan itself, with some damp patches here and there but on the whole it was pretty dry. What a serene experience riding on a road surface that is no different to the surroundings, with far-off hills never seeming to get any closer.
Eventually though you reach a turn-off of sorts for the camp site, although I needed to continue another 10kms or so to the reception farmhouse to pay for the stay first.
This stretch has a gate every 2km, so there's quite a bit of stopping-opening-closing going on.
Thus far I had not really encountered any real loose sand on the trip. It was something I was expecting, in spite of my deathly fear of sand - and complete inability to master it. Well my demon was waiting for me after the 2nd farm gate. I hit the patch of deep sand and immediately the bike's steering was going it's own way. Making my same old mistake as always in sand I slowed down to try and control the bike better. One of my biggest fears is losing control, and doing this at speed felt even worse. So I continuously tried to pull away in the sand, only to stall the engine and almost drop the bike in the process. Eventually I overcooked the bike and the temperature light came on. As my mood was also heading to the red I stopped for a break, to let my bike cool down and consider my options.
I realized the sand had thinned out sufficiently, so to speak, for me to be able to continue to the farmhouse. After knocking and shouting "Hello" a few times a lady approached from the servant's quarters and told me that no one was home but that I could pay her the required fee. There as no wood available, so she got one of the guys there to cut up some dried out grape vines for me. I tied the bag of wood to the bike and headed back to the camping area, all the while knowing I'm going to have to cross this sand patch again. It felt like the whole 2km between the two gates, but in reality it was probably only about 500m or so.
On approaching the sand patch I decided to just floor it and go. I was going to get over the sand patch or moer off, but either way it was going to be spectacular! I stayed in 3rd gear and simply opened the throttle, the bike was like a rodeo bull trying to get rid of the cowboy. I held on, my heart felt like it was in my throat and my eyes were probably wide open. Bucking and weaving around and forcing myself to keep the throttle open I actually made it over the patch without dropping the bike. Bliksem I was breathing like an engine without an air filter, pumping air in and out at top RPM.
That was when I realized my back wheel was flat. "Fark steaks!" was the first thought, "first the sand and now this!". I got off, took a few moments to catch my breath and started looking for the puncture. I stupidly forgot to bring something to hold the rear of the bike up, so I was pushing it a few cm's at a time, inspecting the rear wheel as I went along.
The ossewa loaded with all the wood, and the flat rear.
I couldn't find a leak, so I took out my compressor and hooked it up to inflate the tyre a bit, to see if that'll help. No such luck, the compressor wasn't tightening against the valve - the little screw-on portion had broken. Just my luck. I decided to continue to the campsite with the flat tyre, remembering that the tubeliss reviews mentioned you could even ride with a flat wheel. I parked inside the boma area as there was nobody else, unpacked the bike and inspected the campsite a bit. A shower would've been great now, after all the sweat and dust.
Alas a shower was not to be, the water pump was not working and judging by the condition of the place it had not been working for quite a while. The inverted inside the ablutions was beeping incessantly, displaying an error code 06 on the screen, and there was no power. This place had really been left to decay, what a shame. It's a great place, it just needs periodic maintenance.
Some bird (I presume) decided to make it's nest in the boma area, these eggs were larger than chicken eggs. The bird was nowhere to be seen, though, but by the morning the eggs were rearranged to it must have visited during the night.
I lit my fire and waited for the coals, then placed my meat on the grill while having a closer look at my rear tyre and broken compressor. There's few things that gets a man attention like a picture of meat braaing, so here's one for you guys.
I found the cause of the leak, it was a mushroom I had previously inserted that had worked itself out (probably during all the spinning in the sand), so I inserted a new one.
The valve adapter of the compressor had broken apart, and I needed to get it back together. Luckily I brought along some JB Weld epoxy, and good old Partley Steel. Using the epoxy I managed to glue the valve adapter back together again, and for good measure I surrounded it with the Pratley Steel putty. I decided to leave it overnight to harden properly.
The next issue was water, I had only about 1L of drinking water left. I went and knocked against the water tank and realized there's quite a bit of water still in there. Having a look at the piping I could undo one pipe that was bent back on itself and wrapped with wire. After unwrapping the wire the water started running out, brown at first but soon some clear water emerged. I grabbed some coke bottles from all the ones scattered there, gave them a good rinse and filled them up. This water I then boiled in my kettle, and made myself a deliciously wonderful cup of Wiener Mischung. The rest of the water I boiled and left in the coke bottles to cool down overnight, and added them to my water bag the following morning.
The piece of steak had developed a weird smell to it, so I discarded it and only ate the wors, in between working on the wheel and compressor.
A beautiful sunset closed out this eventful day.
With excitement I get up early, today I'm heading to Verneukpan - sure to be one of the highlights of my trip. But, one cannot start a proper day without coffee, and the little kettle and stove is duly brought out to do duty.
After packing everything up and tying it to the bike I realize the bike's keys are still inside the little pocket in the tent. A real Homer Simpson D'oh! moment <facepalm> so I duly unpack the tent again to get the key. Pack it all up again, and set off to the restaurant for a quick breakfast before heading out south. No double rum this time. It wasn't long after reaching the gravel that I realize there's a noise emanating from the left rear, so I stop and inspect and find my chain to be a bit too slack. The noise was probably the chain slapping against the swingarm.
No problem, I've got the bike toolkit with me so I whip it out and try to loosen the rear axle. No joy, the 90Nm holding that nut is quite hard to undo with such a short lever. So I stand up and use my foot against the spanner to loosen the nut, and it springs loose... or so I thought. Damn KTM with their crappy tools!
Nothing I can do now, except to keep riding until the next town at least.
The locusts... let me tell you guys about the locusts. And I'm not talking about these little ones you find in your garden, but ma-se big ones, almost like the ones we used to peg down in school science class. These things are like marbles with wings, their exoskeletons moering against you like you're being paintballed. Bliksem, it hurts, I actually still have a bruise or two. Then the things end up all juicy against your visor - if you remember to close it in time - or gets stuck on your collar and you feel it crawling around your neck. I almost moered off the bike trying to get these things out of my neck while riding. Here's some locusts covering the road, and for some stupid reason they fly up as you approach them. Pleks die donners net bly lê.
I didn't know it at the time, but this was merely a droplet in the bucket, there was much more to come.
On the road south to Kenhart I came across a team dismantling old Telkom towers. Working with such big objects they were sure to have tools so I stopped and asked, and sure enough they had a 32mm spanner I could use to loosen my wheel. This allowed me to adjust my chain correctly.
I came across this rather large windmill, sadly in a non-running state but I'm sure I've seen this in someone's ride report before. So here it is again, still not repaired but impressive nonetheless.
In Kenhart I refueled, bought some meat at the local butcher for supper and headed out to the Verneukpan turnoff.
I wasn't on my GS so I felt safe ignoring this sign. >
This beautiful, long, straight road had me singing Talking Head's Road To Nowhere in my head.
Periodically some little critters would scurry off across the road as I approach, and one stood looking at me for a while. I stopped and slowly walked closer to get a pic, but the little bugger disappeared into his hole.
Sometimes stopping for a break and taking a moment helps one appreciate the beauty of this part of the world.
Soon enough I was on the pan itself, with some damp patches here and there but on the whole it was pretty dry. What a serene experience riding on a road surface that is no different to the surroundings, with far-off hills never seeming to get any closer.
Eventually though you reach a turn-off of sorts for the camp site, although I needed to continue another 10kms or so to the reception farmhouse to pay for the stay first.
This stretch has a gate every 2km, so there's quite a bit of stopping-opening-closing going on.
Thus far I had not really encountered any real loose sand on the trip. It was something I was expecting, in spite of my deathly fear of sand - and complete inability to master it. Well my demon was waiting for me after the 2nd farm gate. I hit the patch of deep sand and immediately the bike's steering was going it's own way. Making my same old mistake as always in sand I slowed down to try and control the bike better. One of my biggest fears is losing control, and doing this at speed felt even worse. So I continuously tried to pull away in the sand, only to stall the engine and almost drop the bike in the process. Eventually I overcooked the bike and the temperature light came on. As my mood was also heading to the red I stopped for a break, to let my bike cool down and consider my options.
I realized the sand had thinned out sufficiently, so to speak, for me to be able to continue to the farmhouse. After knocking and shouting "Hello" a few times a lady approached from the servant's quarters and told me that no one was home but that I could pay her the required fee. There as no wood available, so she got one of the guys there to cut up some dried out grape vines for me. I tied the bag of wood to the bike and headed back to the camping area, all the while knowing I'm going to have to cross this sand patch again. It felt like the whole 2km between the two gates, but in reality it was probably only about 500m or so.
On approaching the sand patch I decided to just floor it and go. I was going to get over the sand patch or moer off, but either way it was going to be spectacular! I stayed in 3rd gear and simply opened the throttle, the bike was like a rodeo bull trying to get rid of the cowboy. I held on, my heart felt like it was in my throat and my eyes were probably wide open. Bucking and weaving around and forcing myself to keep the throttle open I actually made it over the patch without dropping the bike. Bliksem I was breathing like an engine without an air filter, pumping air in and out at top RPM.
That was when I realized my back wheel was flat. "Fark steaks!" was the first thought, "first the sand and now this!". I got off, took a few moments to catch my breath and started looking for the puncture. I stupidly forgot to bring something to hold the rear of the bike up, so I was pushing it a few cm's at a time, inspecting the rear wheel as I went along.
The ossewa loaded with all the wood, and the flat rear.
I couldn't find a leak, so I took out my compressor and hooked it up to inflate the tyre a bit, to see if that'll help. No such luck, the compressor wasn't tightening against the valve - the little screw-on portion had broken. Just my luck. I decided to continue to the campsite with the flat tyre, remembering that the tubeliss reviews mentioned you could even ride with a flat wheel. I parked inside the boma area as there was nobody else, unpacked the bike and inspected the campsite a bit. A shower would've been great now, after all the sweat and dust.
Alas a shower was not to be, the water pump was not working and judging by the condition of the place it had not been working for quite a while. The inverted inside the ablutions was beeping incessantly, displaying an error code 06 on the screen, and there was no power. This place had really been left to decay, what a shame. It's a great place, it just needs periodic maintenance.
Some bird (I presume) decided to make it's nest in the boma area, these eggs were larger than chicken eggs. The bird was nowhere to be seen, though, but by the morning the eggs were rearranged to it must have visited during the night.
I lit my fire and waited for the coals, then placed my meat on the grill while having a closer look at my rear tyre and broken compressor. There's few things that gets a man attention like a picture of meat braaing, so here's one for you guys.
I found the cause of the leak, it was a mushroom I had previously inserted that had worked itself out (probably during all the spinning in the sand), so I inserted a new one.
The valve adapter of the compressor had broken apart, and I needed to get it back together. Luckily I brought along some JB Weld epoxy, and good old Partley Steel. Using the epoxy I managed to glue the valve adapter back together again, and for good measure I surrounded it with the Pratley Steel putty. I decided to leave it overnight to harden properly.
The next issue was water, I had only about 1L of drinking water left. I went and knocked against the water tank and realized there's quite a bit of water still in there. Having a look at the piping I could undo one pipe that was bent back on itself and wrapped with wire. After unwrapping the wire the water started running out, brown at first but soon some clear water emerged. I grabbed some coke bottles from all the ones scattered there, gave them a good rinse and filled them up. This water I then boiled in my kettle, and made myself a deliciously wonderful cup of Wiener Mischung. The rest of the water I boiled and left in the coke bottles to cool down overnight, and added them to my water bag the following morning.
The piece of steak had developed a weird smell to it, so I discarded it and only ate the wors, in between working on the wheel and compressor.
A beautiful sunset closed out this eventful day.
