RD
Pack Dog
This "Opstel" was written by a fellow biker, Jan vd Wezthuizen and with his permission I thought to share his story with you all.
TO HELL AND GONE!
Day 1
Although I have travelled through the Baviaanskloof by mountain bike some 14 years ago, I, at several occasions during this tour, I asked myself how I ever allowed my aging body to again be lured into something so challenging and with so little logic in it. Attempts at finding an answer escalated exponentially after each of my four falls. The fact, that South Africa and for that matter Africa is criss crossed with good road networks and wonderful scenery makes it even more difficult to know why sane well balanced humans would search for the most difficult “roads” to travel on and torture themsel
ves? For me, age and absolute stupidity may contain some explanation. For other people a valid reason is obviously found in the fact that the challenge is there, the “been there, done it” phenomenon, the “its fun when it’s done” satisfaction and that “memories are made of this”! This motorcycle tour was no different. In fact I would (naturally only now and in retrospect) rate it as having been very special, both as regards the challenge and the company.
It all started some time ago when Richard Bennet started toying with the idea of riding a motorbike from Cape to Cairo. When his friend a Norman Emslie agreed with it the theory approached practice. Then Rufus Dreyer joined in and finally Stellios Georgeiou completed the foursome – “Three farmers and a Greek” – to quote Richard Bennet. The tour was on. My aspirations of a motorbike tour were much more humble, but having heard of this group, I, some time ago approached Rufus with the invitation to accompany me on a short tour of the Zuurberg, Swartberg and Bloukrans Passes. Shortly after having done it, I started getting invitations by cell phone, e-mail and personally to join the foursome on a tour of the Baviaanskloof and “Die Hell” as a practice run for their Cape to Cairo expedition. I summarily ignored all invitations and avoided any contact. Rufus, however was persistent and after a personal visit, I had no further (by his judgement) valid excuses. Fortunately, on the morning of our departure, my Kawasaki refused point blank to start. Valid excuse? No. Push start it! (Had I known what awaited me both as regards the roads and the company I had to tolerate, I would, at that point have destroyed the Kawasaki completely – No not quite).
So later on Friday morning 22 October, the foursome, all mounted on Kawasaki KLR 650’s having already travelled 250 kms, arrived at my house only approximately an hour and a half late, but quite chirpy as if it was meant to be like that. It was only already half an hour later than the scheduled meeting with the sixth biker, Arthur Loretz and his BMW 1200 GS, who was waiting for us at the Padlangs Roadhouse just past Patensie, still one hours ride from my house. Again there was no apparent concern. (I already then should have known better). It was not the end yet. Halfway to Patensie, Norman’s KLR suddenly cut out. After careful investigation the approximately 20 technical diagnoses, were narrowed down to the fact that even the indestructible KLR’s need petrol to run on. Richard took off to a nearby petrol station and returned with two litres of petrol. Bob’s your uncle. Problem solved. We then rode to Patensie where we filled up with petrol and rode to the Padlangs Road House where we met Arthur approximately two hours behind schedule. We had lunch and started off for our destiny, Doornkloof Bush Camp, some 113 kms of torturous (very) rough dirt road passes which we were destined to reach two hours later.
This road through the Baviaanskloof which lies between the Kouga and Baviaans mountains was the longest of the 24 roads and one of the last roads built by Thomas Baines and his father Andrew Geddes Baines before the death of the former in 1893. This road which crosses the Grootrivier more than 20 times was one of the first which linked the Western Cape with the Eastern Frontier. Throughout history as today, it was never considered to be an easy route. In 1987 Nature Conservation took over and started buying up private farms to establish the Baviaanskloof Wilderness area.
Patensie to Baviaans.
Some Campsites.
A short distance from Patensie, Rufus decided that it was essential to inspect the various camping sites en route. We all turned down the sandy track but my front wheel slipped and I went down (all be it at almost stand still speed). Norman rushed to my assistance. Having inspected the camp site we departed from it none the wiser only to, after a few kilometres, discover that Stellios did not follow us. It turned out that he too went down and was not able to pick his bike up. Richard back tracked in assistance. Problem solved. The first 26 kms to Komdomo, the first camp site and official office in the Baviaanskloof is good road and I found comfort in the “information” that the Baviaanskloof road had been graded.
Approximately 17 kms further, just past Cambria we reached the Baviaanskloof entrance gate where we paid our dues and continued on a road of which the surface clearly showed that the grader had either got lost or had been hijacked. It now called for serious action. We crawled up the steep ten kilometre incline to Bergplaas only to again crawl down the other side to Kleinplaat and Doodsklip.
So it was forwards and mostly upwards and downwards through these passes and, just for fun, a few water crossings – real 20 to 30 km/hr stuff. By now nothing was dry any more and my boots contained a fair volume of unwelcome water. These water crossings were also popular spots where my “friends” would wait to take “action” photos, particularly crossings where it required finding your way over a surface covered with slippery stones. It was at one of these that Norman decided to photograph my expertise at traversing the mean obstacle. He had me in his view finder and was just about to take the photo when I disappeared. I had hit a submerged rock, made a ninety degree turn and rode out of sight into a reed bush only to reappear again as I fell back into the road. Norman again rushed to my assistance without taking the photo!
By now I think my body language must have shouted anything but “I really enjoy this road”! All this was aggravated by the fact that Richard then took of with a wheel spin with Rufus, Norman and Stellios following suit as if riding on an interstate highway. Out of shear nervousness, I now gripped the handlebars like a vice. We continued past Apieskloof, and Doornkraal through some more steep twisties until we passed the now derelict Geelhoutbos camp site. On our way Arthur and I noticed an object in the road which I recognised it as Rufus’ centre stand and picked it up. With some more bolts being lost from his bike along the way, I started thinking that the answer that Rufus got on the Wild Dog Blog when he asked for advice as to the spares for a KLR to take on a Cape to Cairo tour was spot on. The reply was: “A box of bolts and nuts and a gallon of Lock Tite”. On handing him his stand, Rufus asked "and where are the springs?” Ha, Ha. The road now became a lot better and for the next 20 kms allowed for a bit more throttle. Even so, the “Cape to Cairo” foursome had to stop ever so often to allow the backmarkers to catch up. We reached Doornkloof at 18h30, three and a half hours after leaving the Padlangs Roadhouse. An average of 32 kms per hour. Good graded road, my foot!
It was soon pretty clear that the “Cape to Cairo” foursome had equipped themselves with all the alluring gadgets thinkable. The only problem was that they clearly did not know how all these gadgets worked. Stellios had several attempts at putting up his new tent but never got it right. It, at the end very much resembled something like a cross between and rather flat Red Indian tepee and a Bushman “skerm”. It was equally clear that the group consisted of four absolutely extreme personalities. There was Richard Bennet, extrovert makhulu who, when patience was issued, could never receive it because he was always gone before the time, but with a spirit that will not easily be exhausted, big 130 kgs of Norman Emslie (poor KLR), calm, quiet anchor man, Stellios Georgeiou, calm, objective and a punch bag for Richard and finally Rufus (MacGyver) Dreyer who heads up the group as organiser, cook, mechanic, photographer and few more responsibilities. As the tour went on, their ability to ride and deal with crises was evident.
We had a lovely braai of absolutely excellent quality mutton, “roosterkoek” and salads supplied by the owners of the camp site. Supper around the fire was accompanied by loads of “wisdom”. Norman remarked that he was now sick and tired of continually having to pick up my gloves, helmet, bike and me. Then it was off to bed.
