Where it all began - my first bike trip in 1995

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Rokie

Race Dog
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Oct 31, 2008
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Location
West Coast
Bike
BMW F650GS / Dakar
I was never much of a biker. At school I had a friend with a “fifty” (Honda MB-5) and we used to ride some farm roads that have since been paved and now runs among neighbourhoods, a golf course and some apartment complexes. Subsequently, during my student days, another friend and I bought a couple of XR200R’s, which we rode for a while and restored a bit to sell and make some money.

Then, at some point, I decided to buy a ten-year-old Suzuki DR600 to take me onto some roads less travelled. My first ever adventure bike trip was inspired by a local bike mechanic. He told me how he used to go into the Karoo and the Cederberg with a friend and his Landy – armed with some maps from the Surveyor General’s office. One day he pulled out a piece of A4 paper and drew a few lines of where they once found an old shepherd’s cottage in the middle of nowhere.

I promptly started building a luggage system for my DR. I McGyver’ed quite a nifty click-on system for a plastic milk crate, which served as my top box. I also recruited a mate whose brother had an old XT500. He was simply going to use a back-pack to make up for the bike’s lack of luggage solutions.

So, off we went on a Friday afternoon in May 1995 – just over 20 years ago now – in search of that old shepherd’s cottage and a weekend of two-wheeled fun. The photographs were few and far between because, remember, this was before cell phones and digital cameras. Our first aim was to reach a farm in the Koue Bokkeveld where a mutual friend had recently found his first job. We had to make many unscheduled stops on the way there, since the XT kept cutting out when it got wet. I guess the weather was another reason for the lack of photographs . . .



(Just testing the size of the picture - more to follow soon . . .)
 
Speaking of weather, it started to occur to me that we never really checked the forecast. This was the weekend we had available, so this was the weekend that we were going to go to the Cederberg. We only made it to the Koue Bokkeveld after dark and were frozen stiff by then. We had no bike gear at all. I was wearing a pair of jeans and a jean jacket over a cotton sweater (from the previous year’s rugby tour), a pair of military boots and camping gloves. Luckily we each had some borrowed rain gear that seemed to keep us more or less dry. A nice warm bath restored our cold fingers and toes from their bloodless numbness.

The next morning we followed the hand drawn map as well as we could (through the quintessential Cederberg route) from Op-die-Berg to Eselbank and then started the search for our little hut in all earnest.



The little map (drawn in pencil nogal) was good as gold and without too much hassle we found it!! The thatched roof was rather dilapidated, but other than that, we were very well catered for.


 
Good times. Hope there is more  :thumleft:
 
We went for a small hike – first up the nearest “koppie” and then to a swimming spot nearby (or was it the other way around?). We took a naked dive into the cold clean mountain water (I’ll spare you those photographs) and headed back to the shack to heat up a couple of cans of beans and who-knows-what on my camping stove.






 
We realised that we didn’t bring any eating utensils (except a pocket knife) and carved ourselves a pair of spoons from some dead wood.



 
We sat by the fire, reading with torches, while drinking boxed red wine from plastic cups. Was it Hemingway who said, “We ate well, and cheaply. And we drank well, and cheaply . . . “



We went to bed super satisfied with our day’s work. Our (very) crappy sleeping bags and the chill of the Cederberg made me decide to go to sleep wearing all the clothes I brought – which has since become a habit for most of my bike trips.

 
The next morning we set off in the rain (again) and our non-existent riding skills were tested a bit. Apart from the odd incline, we also faced some rather loose gravel and a bit of sand here and there. Both of us had a couple of close shaves, but we managed to stay on top.





 
We reached Clanwilliam by midday and grabbed a coke and some Big Corn Bites at a local cafe. I don’t remember much about the road home – we headed straight down the N7. But I do remember that we stopped near Malmesbury where a girl we knew was at her folks’ for the weekend. We were offered the most awesome Sunday lunch leftovers of leg of lamb, roast potatoes and a hundred other farm style dishes. And, as grateful students do, we laid into it like kings!

The mom insisted that we take a good-bye picture with the girl, her little sister and a visiting friend.



And that, my friends, was the end of the beginning . . .
 
It is ride reports like this that inspire me to get out there, it does not matter what the destination, as long as it is remote.

Thanks for sharing!
 
So maak mens!

Jy vra nie, jy doen.  8)
 
Awesome RR and pics. Wish we took more pics in our younger days, but we believed we were never going to get old!  :ricky:
 
Wow, how awesome is this? Your memory's still good too :thumleft:

Thanks for sharing!  :ricky:
 
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