To the East and to the West, don’t ask what was best! COMPLETE!

[Malibu]

Up early and packed, we sadly departed the reserve, and excitedly headed out for Siteki to fill our tanks and then on to the border, Goba.  What a difference in attitude when crossing into Mozambique.  The officials are slovenly and diffident.  Far more typical of the more northern borders, I just looked about as dumb as them, pretending we had days to play with and they grunted us through the formalities.  8am and we were on the road again.  The area had also had extensive recent rains, and most the roads had been turned into quagmires, but now dried and baked, the rutting was interesting to say the least.  Two strips of fairly acceptable track lay before us, with streams of humanity bouncing along in every kind of vehicle, attempting to reach home for the holidays.  The road-side, in places, was littered with the damaged remains of those needing extensive surgery to realize that objective.  Wheels, shocks and all related to that area appeared to have taken a hammering during the travels made by the unlucky travelers within the sweltering frames.  For us, the challenge came when overtaking, or leaving the 2-track for on-coming vehicles.  Having many kilo’s before us, we were exceedingly careful when negotiating these heavily rutted parts.  During the morning the levels of heat and humidity increased, but we felt that we had sufficient water to keep us hydrated, carrying 6 liters between Mark and I.

We stopped at Seteki for fuel…..the attendant there was in a joyous mood and gave a us a little dance to bless the days ride, his dance was contagious as both Malibu and I danced our own versions later that day……in the sand tracks.

Need I say more

Border papers sorted and ready to go

First taste of the Moz dirt

Leonard’s shop will come in very handy later in the day. This was the morning stop and some pics of the village.

Here’s some pics of the road condition. All I can say is that we covered 450km for the day and the riding was some of the best I have done in a long time.

It was not long before we reached the Bela Vista intersection.  Here we turned South, aiming for one of the “Ponto’s”  This section, apparently tar, was so potholed that riding ranged through missing the larger ones, and missing the vehicles that were swinging from one side of the road to the other in their attempts to miss the same.  I was so very grateful when the road returned to dirt, or rather, sand.  From here, our eyes were assaulted by white roads. 

Ponto Somewhere….here we come

I’d like to note here that at no stage did we have any problems with police or army, they were all exceedingly friendly, waving us on and smiling. 

The sand started.  Being on the 640 was really cheating.  Ember nimbly flounced over everything, treating everything with a certain disdain that I have realized only a KTM can truly do!  This was to be the case though the entire trip.  How fortunate for me!

The road now dubbed the ‘Great lakes Road’ by us was terrific fun.  Riding over a large mound and down into a small lake, over a mound… this continued for kilometers, indispersed with terrific areas of deep sand that had us skipping our rears all over the place in a display of excessive power.  What fun!  The heat at this stage was building to uncomfortable levels, so we decided to turn at the first ‘Ponto’ sign we saw… and this led us to another tar ‘road’ which we followed.  Reaching a fork in the road, the left showed two perfect sand tracks up the sea dune, the right, an huge mash of torn-up sand.  I chose left. 

These 2 perfect tracks, probably 40cm deep were fantastic to ride, until, rounding a corner, the sides of which are so densely vegetated as to be impenetrable, I had to quickly stop for the 2 on-coming 4x4’s. Mark had managed to find a cave in the vegetation where he left the path, and my attempt to leave the deep track resulted in me depositing my bike rather unceremoniously onto the hot, deep sand.  And not with much dignity either.  The crowds in the vehicles cheered and I took my bow before righting my solemn bike.  I waved at my adoring fans as they passed and now feeling a lot more cheerful, retuned to the tracks.  We reached a gate, Punto Mamoli Resort, ‘Private’.  20 bucks bought us entrance to the most stunning venue. Clean, beautiful and pristine, we clumped down the wooden varnished walkways, passed the swimming pool whose patrons were sipping cocktails with umbrellas and deposited ourselves at the bar.  4 Ginger Beers later, the bar lady brought us ice-cold face cloths to freshen up with.  Guess we were a sight.  We obtained permission to use the facilities, and donned our swim gear.  This was what we had ridden for.  It had only taken us 3 hours from the border. 

Just after you cross the Rio Maputo River

We came upon this Hindu Temple with the sacred white cow and all. What a beautiful place. Would have liked to have a walk around but the beach and a swim were calling.

The sand here is white…eye numbing white.

“The Great Lakes Road”

Here is the sand track to the beach, the right one led to Ponto Madejanine and the other to Ponta Mamoli. We chose Manoli and it could not have been a better choice. No crowds, stunning beach…perfect.

Parked the bikes in the shade, grabbed the shorts and costumes and headed for the beach.

Walkway down to the beach

Scuba club house

The beach

Judes ready for the Indian Ocean

Swim time…….the ride here was so well worth it. Sometimes those early morning brain farts are good ideas.

Pool deck……the looks we got from the guests while we showered and changed

Malibu on the sand track coming back from the beach

 

[Malibu]

Now we had a choice.  NEVER invoke the ire of mother.  So, we needed to be back at the farm the following day, so, do we stay and race back in the morning, do we retrace our steps, or do we cross to SA south, and round Swaziland.  Both of us thought we’d like to stay another night at Hlane, so at 12.30 we retraced our steps.  Coming in had shown me all the places where I could cheat around the sand, so, as to expend minimum energy in the still building heat, I opted for the side-routes used by the SUV’s and some less adventurous 4x4’s.  Although still challenging in places, this allowed me to keep a lot cooler and fresher.  Mark hit the same, deeper, lake that had showered me when riding in, and I laughed like heng when he passed me dripping water everywhere, trying to wipe the goey stuff off his visor. 
We had established that the borders were open 24/7 during this period, but the frequency of our breaks was only caused by the moist heat, giving us a chance to rest and re-hydrate.  More cars littered the sides of the roads, dismay etched on faces as we passed.  Africa’s roads demand a high toll.  We did stop for one group, when their off-road (read - Serious off-road) trailer’s entire A-arm had broken apart and the tow hitch was of no use.  A second vehicle was assisting them by ingeniously attaching the trailer to their own vehicle with straps and ropes.  I gave my ener-jellies to the kids and we moved on.

Here are the tracks used to cheat the really think stuff

Shame I hope their holiday wasn’t too ruined when the trailer snapped, their trailer was strapped and tied to the Moz bakkie.

We encountered a herd of wild elephant on the side of the road… not far from me at all.  It was so exciting to know that these herds are actually present in an area known previously for very bad poaching.  Hopefully this is a sign of improvement.

We had stopped at a shop owned by Leonard on the way in, and again, this was to be our last stop before the border.  We arrived, very de-hydrated, and we were welcomed like long-lost friends.  Mark forced that terrible rehydrate stuff down me, and then I proceeded to wash the horrible taste out my mouth with bottles of water. 

I had to force a beer down

The roads we had ridden were fantastic, and I’d ride them all again in a heart-beat.  The locals were so friendly during our visit, that I recon I spent more time waving than having my hand on the bars.  The casual conversation we had with them was warm and friendly, punctuated with bouts of humor and ready smiles. This day was a good day, despite the temperatures being in the high 40’s.
We crossed the border and I contemplated at Seteki whether I needed fuel.  455 kilo’s with still about 14l in the tank.  Mark calls Ember PB.  It was Marks 3rd re-fueling, and he thoroughly enjoys knowing that he has a portable Petrol Bowser close at hand.

Some more pics of the area and roads

We rode up to the reserve, received the same welcome again, resurrected our tent in the same spot, and proceeded to consume another 2l of water.  The lightning show that evening was spectacular, followed by ear-numbing rain.  I slept well.

Sunset at camp

The next morning was a casual affair, drying out the tent and packing. Saying our farewells to Glen Hall, the manger, and his staff, we slowly departed.  Glen also rides and makes sure that riders are welcomed. 

By this stage, Mark and I had fallen into an easy riding partnership.  We had no difficulties with our routine and style of riding, and it was a great relief to me, as this was our first longer ride together.  He is a super riding buddy, always showing an easy smile and laughing at all the absurdities we encountered.

Our GPS was on the blink again, so trusting our direction skills, we opted for the Northern route.  The map we carried for Swaziland was not exactly correct, and we found ourselves running through cane fields.  After what felt like hours, Mark decided to head for the tar.  We rode south alongside a fence, enjoying the technical riding required, and soon, burst forth onto a tar road.  With a border post immediately to our right.  Guess we had been running the border for a while.  We decided to head home with a little more speed, and returned to the MR2 to get back to the Piggs Peak/Belembu road.  This was all dirt and again we had to merely avoid the livestock and enjoy the stupendous views.

Marks camera batteries died on exiting Swaziland, so his hope of photographing me doing knee-downs on the twisties were dashed, much to my delight, so we rode into Barberton, bought oil for our bikes and visited the Golden Nugget.  2 drinks later we headed for home, to enjoy Christmas with the family.

Last couple of pics of Swaziland

Two very happy campers. What we saw of Swaziland and Mozambique makes me want to spend more time there soon. I think each country deserves at least a week’s visit each.

Our next story starts after this.

 

[CroftsMan]

Most excellent instalment there Judes and Mark ... awesome stuff!!  :thumleft:

 

[keithk]

Great RR MH & Malibu adventures are made of this! What a super experience  :thumleft:

 

[nemodakar]

Very nice guys, isn't it lekker to share something like this with your partner?

Wish I could do trip like yours.

 

[Carrots]

Awesome stuff...imagine we could do this and this alone...all year long!  :thumleft:

 

[Beagle Boy]

Friggen awesome ...... guy's well done  :thumleft:

Left me  :drif:

 

[Malibu]

Hehehehheee, that's just the first 4 days, another 7 days to follow...

It's so lekker doing a RR like this, every time I add pics and re-read, it feels like we are back there... where ever!  Makes this desk not sooo bad to sit at!  :biggrin:

 

[weskus]

Great stuff Mark & Malibu, and great phodies....

 

[onderbroek]

awesome!!!

 

[letsgofishing]

Excellent RR guys - seems like you had a ball!
Thanks for posting this  :thumleft:

 

[Mark Hardy]

Thanks for the comments guys  :thumleft:

This was one of those trips that I will remember fondly forever, and to share it with my love...priceless  ;D .

 

[Malibu]

Scheduled to leave on Sunday, the rain had put a delay on servicing our bikes the previous day, we decided to leave Monday.  Sunday was then spent doing the necessary for the machines, and we went walking.  Dark Horse, who had shared Christmas with us, Dakota, Mark and I strolled around the area.  Fiona, a friend of mine, had a few Appaloosa foals we visited and it was a super relaxing day, walking off the Christmas feast.

Monday morning dawned, traveling slightly lighter, we did the big haul from Nelspruit to Mafeking.  The original plan was to stay in Groot Marico, but with loosing a day we had to catch-up with some distance.  Not knowing the lay of the land in Mafeking, we eventually arrived in the afternoon, still rather hot, but promise of cooler air was there.  Well, there is one camping spot in Mafeking, and it’s in the middle of the game reserve.  Again, if you don’t ask...  We did and they said ok!  Another surprise.  Maybe it was the Pimp Suits!  I went shopping in town, while Mark finalized the arrangements with the park and the bottle store.  We met at the main gate and rode out into the park.  Our experience with game was again exceeded, riding past rhino with no fencing between us… and the cows all had calves.  We entered the camping area, supposedly fenced, but most of that was laying on the ground.  The showers were hot, they had loo paper, firewood was piled up, but the rest of the site was rustic to say the least.  Perfect.
I remember Mark urgently waking me in the middle of the night, “There is a buffalo outside”.  About 2m from the tent, with calf.  We were very quiet. 
Tomorrow promised some of the best riding along the Botswana fence-line and I was not going to allow anything to hinder that.

I have one word to describe the ride from Nelspruit to Mafeking……BOREDOM……but at least we covered good distance and caught up on the day we lost due to the rain.  The one really good thing is that I found out where the Buddhist Retreat is in Bronkhorstspruit. I will definitely go spend a weekend there soon.
The Main Archway

I was really happy that we were able once again to camp the night in a game reserve. The camp sight was very run down, including the fencing around the camp which allowed the game to wonder in and out. Perfect…….and we were the only people there….double perfect.  Again we saw plenty of game. The track from the main game to the camp site was about 4kms, along which we saw rhino, Kudu, Impala and some other buck which were brown and had stripes.

Malibu setting up camp

We had some visitors soon after the tent was up

Malibu getting the fire going…….this women is a pyromaniac of note. I was never allowed to start the fire. The glint she got in hers eyes as the wood was set alight was quite scary at times.

I was relegated to wood gatherer

Sunset

Supper on the go

Morning light blazed me out of bed, we packed camp and departed, winding out the reserve between the rhino. Today is going to be a good day.  We set off with much enthusiasm.

Sunrise and the start of a spectacular days riding

Coffee in bed

Two happy little bikes

Again we had some visitors.  The horn on the mother was the longest I have seen in many many years.

All packed and on our way, we had said goodbye to the rhino and headed for the Botswana fence line.

The tar was longer than it should have been, according to Google Earth, but we eventually hit the dirt with a sigh of relief.  What a stunning ride.  Red sand, white sand, red sand, white sand, the colours changing before us like a massive zebra crossing… the white stuff generally harder than the red stuff, but that is not a rule.  We were heading for Avonster, Molopo Game Reserve.  Initial target, Bray, for lunch.  I was just getting into a good rhythm on the road, the sun high now with dead light flattening all the detail on the road, so the mounds of sand were barely discernable from the rest, when I hit a bank of red stuff… which promptly threw me into another bank, again and again.  It was a rodeo of classic proportions, Mark behind me, first sucking in his breath in fear of me falling, then laughing at me for surviving, followed by his realization that he too would have to survive it… these thoughts flashing though his mind in a second or so.  In Bray we had a good giggle about our ‘superb’ sand skills.  Hey, we had survived. Mark too had bucked over the area.

On Google earth this tar road was not that long, but in reality it got to the point where you start wondering if you are in for a another boring day, I stopped at a local police station to inquire about this and they first looked at us as if we were mad, riding in this heat with all the gear on and then still looking for the dirt roads. Thankfully they informed us that the tar ends about 2kms down the roads. Life is good

Here’s a couple of pics of the days ride.

That red sand was soft….very, very soft at times. The one section in particular caught both Malibu and I. Malibu was leading at the time when the next thing is I see her and the bike bouncing from side to side across the road. We must have been traveling at 100km/h when we hit this stuff. My heart sank as I watched, waiting for the fall. But Malibu and bike handled it very well which then made me start laughing at their antics…….then as reality set in……OH SHIT I’m next. I dropped a gear, looked up, stayed loose and hit the sand. It was a 100m of sheer fun that scared the living day lights out you.
There were plenty of red sand bits

We got to the T junction, turned right on to the R375 and headed to Bray where we had lunch and fueled up my bike.

Petrol station in Bray

Last pics of the ride to Molopo Nature reserve

 

[Malibu]

I had earlier acquired Mark’s air-conditioned jacket, as he was riding in ballistics and MX vest.  I have to say that without the gear we used we would have had a torrid time in the heat.  As it was, having access to water, on occasion, saved us from an extremely uncomfortable ride.  

We continued around the North West route without incident, the roads were fast and un-complicated affording stunning views of Botswana over the river, and we encountering large numbers of wildlife.  Molopo appeared on our right all too quickly, and we made our way up to the camp site, perched on a huge red sand dune.  The facilities were far from clean, no loo paper was to be found, and the cold water far to hot to be of any use in cooling us down.  So we set up camp, changed and made our way down to hide above the water hole.  Mark spent ages here mastering his skills as a wild-life photographer.  He looked the part too with a 5 day growth and a far-away look in his eyes.  I was hungry!  Found fire-wood, did my pyromaniac thing and got food made.  
The sounds of the bush around us I can still hear, the wildebeest and zebra snorting to the rain-laden sky, birds shrilling in the bushes, and my entertainment at the ant nest, pouring sugared drinks into the sand to watch the ants suck it up and then get all hyperactive.  
That evening, the lightning on the horizon was a portend for the weather to come… the dry, rain spattered sands in the morning showing how fast the waters are absorbed.    

The main gate into the Nature Reserve and track leading to the camp site.

I never did get to drink that beer, actually I only drank it after we got home. Hot beer is just not to be drank….period.
Our camp for the night

Here are the ants sucking up the cooldrink

Some of the game we saw at the water hole.

Sunset

The last couple of pics of the route down to Hotazel. The day before was on of those days when you and machine are not one, at times I felt like I had just started riding. When you see a patch of loose sand and stiffen up, pick the wrong lines through corners, not being able to relax. It was just one of those days.
Today was a different story, the bike and I were one, everything was good and fun so the last 150kms of dirt was enjoyed to the fullest. There was still soft sand to negotiate…Fun…and excellent sections of gravel….fun…. All too soon we got to Hotazel and the tar started. Next stop Aurabies Falls.
Malibu enjoying the sand

Me

The route for the day was very well sign boarded

And into the Kalahari we ride

Some random pics of the section to Hotazel

Weaver nest

Fuel and ice cream stop at the mining town of Black Rock

We only stopped at the entrance to the town of Hotazel, we still had just over 300kms to travel to get to Augrabies Falls and still needed to buy food and things for the next 2 nights. From here to Augrabies was tar….hot windy conditions, oh and did I say TAR riding. Boredom here we come.

 

[Boeloe]

lekker you two! Can't wait for the rest  :drif:

 

[Gray]

AWESOME RR .... I am green with envy.  :thumleft:  :thumleft:  :thumleft:

 

[Would I?]

Nice :thumleft: :thumleft: :thumleft: That Molopo river road has plenty of loose sand, I know that area well.....

 

[Malibu]

The next morning we had a long haul through to Augrabies Falls, so we shot off to Vorstershoop for fuel.  The chap at the shop demonstrating his evil sense of humor while informing Mark that he only has Diesel.  Then bursting into riotous laughter at Marks expression.  I though it was funny too. 

The petrol pumps at Vorstershoop

He felt that he needed to inform us of all the road conditions ahead, including the HUGE drifts of sand 20 k’s out of town where all the bikes fall.  We hit 30 k’s and had not really noticed anything, so maybe my sand skills were improving.  Anyway, rode through McCathys Rest, down to Black Rock and then slabbed it though Upington and on.  The side wind was tedious and observing the Northern Cape from tar just does not appeal to me at all.  By noon we were being assaulted by waves of heat that numbed the face and parched the throat, sucking the moisture from our very eyes. 
It was not until we reached the hills that I found new interest.  This tortured landscape, barren and burnt, twisted and tortured started to appeal to my soul.  I saw a lone horse, magnificent, standing featured against the sharp hills, and the image is still powerful in my memory.  Etched.  Beautiful.
We dropped through a pass, burnt colours, fallen rock, seared images.
And then the green vineyards muted the amazing images I had seen.  For once, the green was just too over-powering, to artificial, too unexpected.  I rejected the entire scene. 
Something had stirred in me, and I wanted to explore it, to discover what the desert was releasing within.  No time now, we needed to reach the gates before 6 and we needed food and fuel.  We blasted through town, and reached the gates just after 5.30.  Camp was set, and we marched off to see the falls.

It was spectacular. I attempted to do with my camera what no camera can do, and obviously missed all the majesty, power and sheer magnitude of this place.  The water levels were apparently very high, but I wonder how high they were before vast volumes of water was extracted up-stream.  Progress has a price I guess. 

The Dassies continued with their lives mere feet away, utterly indifferent to us, and the rock lizards scampered around all over.  It is impossible to describe this place.  It must be experienced for one self.  I’ll let the pics attempt what my words fail to do. 

The next morning we put 3 hours aside to ride around the reserve and what a treat.  Mark had told me I’d love the area and he was so right.  After he had briefed me on the terrible water crossing that had binned him twice before, we set off.  It binned him again.  At least we were square in the binning department now. 

Again, the pics must speak for themselves.  It is truly remarkable.

I fell in love with this area of South Africa many years ago. I spent 3-4 months a years in the Northern Cape during the early 90’s on business. Since then I have been here twice by bike. When I saw the ‘New Years in Kenhardt’ thread I knew this would be the ideal time to show Malibu the areas I have spoken about. This has changed over the years, a lot more wine/grape farms along the road to Augrabies, Like Judy,  I felt all this cultivated greenness was alien to the area and so out of place. But progress is progress and I suppose we have to live with and accept the changes. At least it’s not some big factory bleaching out chemicals and other shit.  We stopped in Kakamas to replenish the food stock and raced the last couple of kilometers to Augrabies gate before they closed at 6pm.
After all the recent rains the Orange was flowing strong which made the waterfalls a site to behold.
It was breath-taking. And to share this with my love……priceless. Life at that very moment was good, very good.
Entrance into Augrabies, the camp site was the only booking we had made, this place is popular with campers and the caravan crowd so I needed to make sure we had a site.

We were welcomed by this little guy

After setting up camp we set off to go have a look at the falls which we could hear, there was a constant roar of sound in the air, not enough to assault the ears, rather a subtle reminder of where you were.

Me

Judy and I

Our camp for the night

Judy relaxing….it was a long days ride

The next morning we went into the reserve to some of the lookout points along the gorge. I find it so difficult to capture the beauty and magnificence of Augrabies. Here are mine and Judy’s attempt.

Homer Simpson rock

Peace Rock

UFO

Looking up the gorge

Looking down the gorge

Judy in her far away thoughts mode

Some more pics of the area

Who said you can’t climb in MX boots

Judy waiting for me……..next stop Moon Rock

Moon rock is a huge dome of a rock which you can walk up. At the top is a cairn of rock, you pick a small rock at the bottom and place it at the top. Seeing thou this was Judy’s first time here she had the honor

View from the top

Someone sometime ago started this, it’s a small area at the top where you can write your initials with small stones 

Judy and I

This is the water crossing that has now claimed me 3 times. There are sections of moss which I find every time. Judy showing me how it’s done

Me

 

[Malibu]

We then left for VerneukPan.  It was at this stage that I followed Marks advice of writing down the thoughts I have when riding.  I do not consider myself a good writer, and my great love for reading has always liberated dreams of penning some masterpiece, but knowing that I’d fall far from the mark I have not pursued the dream.  I had an immense amount of fun writing down all these little notes about the things I thought from that moment.  Every stop was punctuated by me ripping my book out and hastily scribbling another profound sentence I had been tossing in my mind.  Profound for me anyway. 

The 2-track to the pan was highlighted by swathes of black rock and grey sand, in dispersed with dry, stunted bushes.  Goshawks, on seeing us, taking to the sky, lighting the twisted drabness with their silvered and effortless flight.  Small birds darted from the bushes, I still do not know what they were.  What does one say when you have opened and closed enough gates, and then ride onto an expanse of nothing, with a shimmering heat haze, warped and bent to the searing wind, massive whirlwinds whirling past, belching forth seared sands to unexpected altitude.  What does one say?  We made our way to the Farm house, paid and arranged for fire wood to be delivered later, and returned to the pan.  I was speechless and hugely affected by the area.  We tore through the gate and in an eruption of joy, simulating the great speed racers of the past, tore down the vast nothing!  We found the camp 5 k’s further on, parked under the awnings and explored.  The ‘boma’, walled 6 feet high with desert brush contains a small home, kitchen, bar and braai.. everything a traveler could need.  The gasless fridge momentarily offering the hope for cooled liquids.  Behind, the showers and toilets, and one, great fence, marching off to the horizon behind that.  Mark explored further and found a dam, so we promptly jumped in.  It was 90% mud.  After showering, and having the wood delivered, we relaxed, escaping the oven-like winds outside.  A little later we were surprised to hear bikes arriving.  It was Bie, Mark660Z and Rynet.  On their way to the new year party.  Fantastic.  We met, made friends, and chatted for ages. Later, when the shimmering and scorched wind abated, we exited our refuge to enjoy golden hour on the flats.  The light was indescribable.  Silvered to one side, golden to another, we raced around the pan, snapping pictures and generally enjoying ourselves.

I’ll jump in here and add some pics and my thoughts. From the falls to Verneukpan is about 120kms of good gravel roads. We stopped in Kenhardt quickly so I could feed my bike.

Again this is an area that holds a very special place in my soul. There is something about this pan that speaks to me. Maybe it’s the quietness that descends over you once switching off the engine, or the vastness of the pan where you never really can see the horizon because of the heat haze, or knowing that at that moment you are the only people here (and we were until late afternoon when we were joined by 3 other Wilddog riders on their way to Kenhardt for new year). There is a certain beauty in this desolation and again it was wonderful to she this with my love. Life is good.

On route to the pan

Judy was at a loss of words once we got onto the pan…..she just stood there and listened to the nothingness which at the same time is so full of life.

One kick ass “Dust Devil”. This was about 4kms from us and stretched high into the sky. What a sight

Camp too

The Boma

Judy calling me for lunch, peanut butter sandwiches.

A couple of pics of the pan

There is a little dam just behind the Boma with surprisingly very cool water…of course we had too swim

Life is tuff out here, shame poor little lizard.

Just before sunset we all went for a ride out on the pan. The heat of the day had passed and the light fantastic.
At the Bell

Judy and her little beast

Drool

Judy took some pics of me

Judy and Rynet

Judy feeling up my leg

Then I offered my 950 to Judy to ride…….half a tank later accompanied by hysterical laughter I got my bike back. Again Judy was at a loss of words…well nearly except all that was coming out her mouth was excited gibberish about awesome never ending power which left me feeling very unmanly.

Judy’s bike with her on my bike….riding to and fro

Me getting my manliness back

Group photo at the bell

Again, two very happy bikes.

Nearly super time and the end to a perfect day.

 

[Malibu]

Not much left, just waiting for Mark to load the last few photo's and I can post, sorry it's taking so long, but there are a LOT of pics!