Thanks for the kind words chaps. Tiger8 that's sauve, good looking St Albans escapees to you my chinah

I seem to hear a scoot but I can't be sure. I am about to pop my lid back on and continue searching when I catch a glimpse of the red Funduro in the distance. It's quite a relief to know he's mobile. I am still wondering why he was delayed. Did he stop to take in the view, photies, a snack? When Scumdog finally pulls up next to me he tells me that has taken a bad fall. My initial reaction is disbelief. He's riding, the bike is running. For a moment I think he's pulling my leg but reading his face changes my mind. I inspect his bike more closely for damage and initially don't notice the missing rear view mirror and stuffed up hand guard. Bugger! Scumdog is a bit peeved.
“Why didn't you stop? Didn't you hear me shout”
Again I look at his face to see if he is serious.
“I'm so sorry boet, I had no idea you had come off. I definitely didn't hear you shout. Not through your helmet and mine”
By now I realize the guy is in quite a bit of pain. I cringe as he explains what happened. He managed to stall while trying to negotiate a particularly deep rut in the road. It wasn't a fast spill at all but the bike tipped towards the rut. Instinctively he put a leg out to stop the fall but never had a chance as the rut was way too deep. He ended up snagged under the bike foot facing forward body facing backwards. Point of rotation, his right knee. Eina bliksem! He lay there trapped for a good couple of minutes with an unnerving dribble of petrol coming out the bike's tank. I can't remember exactly how he managed to get out from under there. I think in the end he simply dragged himself clear, must have hurt like hell. Before this trip he had payed his entrance fee to do the Two Oceans in Cape Town. Months later his knee was still giving him hassles. Needless to say his marathon didn't happen. We carry on down the hill and stop in the shade of the only tree we've seen for quite a while. At that point I haven't realized quite how seriously Scumdog has hurt his knee. He isn't much of a moangat, I don't think he was fully aware of the damage either, probably had an inkling though. Looking at the photos now I can see that he really was quite the moer in about getting hurt so early on in the trip. It's now 10:35am and we've got cheese, rolls and rust converter to wash it down. The food hits the spot and by the time we're done Scumdog has cheered up a bit and is confident that he can carry on. Not that we would have a choice really. Going back would be the same as going forward. There is still some challenging riding up ahead.




By 11 we're rolling again and really start to feel the heat inside our protective shells. I think a nice set of enduro racing gear would be perfect for this kind of riding. All the impact padding but with the option of wearing a breathable shirt. The views from this trail are truly incredible. A charming combination of inhospitable conditions and seclusion from the world you are accustomed to heightens their effect. 11:35 I stop and take a photo of our back trail and the path ahead. We really are in the middle of nowhere. I love it!


There are a lot of gates and we dutifully leave them as we found them.

The hills are covered in loose rock, you can see it cleatly here because a fire has at some point razed the fynbos.

I think overall the route is not too bad. There are a few stretches that make you pay close attention but for the most part it's fairly easy riding.


12:04pm If you are using using Thumb-Thumb you should declare this gate to be the middle point. I did and Trustme didn't even kick in when I told Scumdog so he probably agreed. It also stands out in my memory because I love my slope soaring. The first time I saw this ridge I was coming the other way and I was suitably impressed by the stiff breeze wafting up the hill. It would be awesome to fly from. Today there is no breeze the air is still and heavy if I was up in Jozi I would be checking the horizon for a thunder storm. Perhaps I should be doing that anyway.

My piggy is handling the trail well. I know that some guys with big bikes experience difficulties with the technical bits out here. I have never taken a tumble on this route or dropped the big GS. I don't consider myself to be very experienced either. I have noticed that the low down grunt on the boxer pulls me through all kinds of funny stuff without stalling. That's a big plus factor. Not having to charge steep sections makes life a lot easier. I manage to keep a steady momentum without too much difficulty. Having long legs does help though. I stand 6 foot in my sock feet. Another plus is good balance. Here and there I had to ride along the narrow ridge between deep ruts. I think guys wanting to do this trail should practice riding around in first and second gear, up and down pavements nice and slowly, using throttle and balance to keep themselves steady. The boxer's low center of gravity and torque should do most of the work, if you wander into a rut you can usually let the bike pull you out with a gentle squeeze throttle.

We mosey onwards through the rough, beautiful hills. The heat seems to be reflecting off the light coloured rocky trail. I have unzipped my jacket and opened all the vents it has. I am pacing myself now. Not a problem at all, I am enjoying the whole experience and going slowly gives me more time to look around.




Scumdog is feeling the heat too and suggests we stop at the next available bit of shade for a water break. We don't see any shade for quite a while. There does, however, seem to be water if you need it.


12:47pm When we do find shade it turns out to be a bush. No problem. We fight our way out of our jackets and crawl into the shrubbery. It's quite strange to see a caravan on the otherside of the bush. A caravan on a koppie in the middle of a wilderness. While the shade is a welcome relief it is still very very hot. Even the goggas and birds are quiet. We aren't surprised to hear a sleepy murmur of voices coming from the caravan. The shepherds are home. They're also hiding from the heat.


We decide that we're not going to get any cooler sitting in the bush like two speed cops. Wrong uniform, no shades. We discover our bike seats have heated dramatically during our short absence. Phoooaaarh! Hot! The blood vessels just under the surface of my skin expand to get some heat exchange going. I'm sweating nicely and as I get moving the effect of evaporation does its bit to help prevent overheating.


Moseying along I see a dark shadow in the distance. There are no clouds directly above us. Definitely nothing that big. It takes a few moments of squinting to realize I am looking at some seriously broken terrain. It's 1:02pm so the sun is still nice and high. That's a steep kloof. I can't help wondering what it looks like up close.


Three minutes later and I can see the emerald green irrigated lands of Rus en Vrede. My old IXUS850is doesn't show the contrast very well. Not long to go now.


At Rus en Vrede we search the farm house and pay our way before hitting the Baviaans road to Willowmore. I can't remember what the cost is but it is in my opinion worth every cent.


By 2pm we have reached the Zaaimanshoek sign on the Baviaans road. I am stopping frequently to check peer up the odd Kloof. There's a story about these parts that I've been keen to explore. I don't know it at the time but I am very far from Prinsloo's kloof. Read more about The Curse of Prinsloos's Kloof
here.



Babes se Winkel is now “on the beaten track”. When I first visited the shop on my very first DS trip through the Baviaans, Babes se winkel was up the beaten path and round the corner from the kloof bus stop.


The system inside is still the same as before. You ask the nice Oom or Tannie for the things you would like to buy and he or she fetches it for you. I love it. It's like stepping back in time. It's lovely and cool inside the shop so we sit down on the steel 70's garden furniture in the shop to kuier for a while. I can't help asking the Oom if they don't have any ice lollies or popsicles. He scratches his head and peers into two of his chest freezers before consulting his wife.
“Nee, ek is jammer seun. Ons het nie so iets hier in die winkel nie.” he smiles gently at me.
“Maar wag net 'n bietjie, ek het dalk 'n bietjie roomys in die huis.”
I am touched by his kindness. A short while later and five bucks poorer I am gratefully enjoying an ice cold bowl of Vanilla ice cream. What a treat! There is a book with stories about the kloof that one can buy at Tolbos coffee shop in Patensie. It has a picture of this Oom on page 30. Gustav Nortjé is his name. I am very sorry I didn't ask him to let me take a photo of him.

In the book of Baviaans stories he tells the story of “The timid Strydoms”. I've typed it out as it appears there for your enjoyment, good for a laugh:
This is a story about Oom Henkie and Oom Dial Strydom when they still lived at home. They were about 18, 19 years old at the time and unmarried.
They slept in an outside room next to the stoep. Both were very scared of ghosts, resulting in many pranks played on one another. One evening Oom Henkie decided to hide on top of the wardrobe in their room to scare Oom Dial. The old fashioned wardrobes had space on top for suitcases and such.
Oom Henkie quickly ran to their room before bed-time and hid on top of the wardrobe. His hair always used to stand on end and he had a permanent cow-lick. Oom Dial walked into the room to lie down on one of those iron bedsteads. They also had one of those ridgeback dogs that slept in their room because they were so scared. It was their guardian angel and they had to have the dog with them.
Now Oom Dial, sitting on his bed petting the dog, realised he hadn't searched under the beds for ghosts yet. It was a routine the two of them had to make sure they were safe before going to sleep. Still sitting with the dog on the bed, he started to look around. As soon as he looked up at the wardrobe, he saw hair sticking out the top. He jumped up, swearing, and said: “Look at the hair!” and ran out of the room.
Oom Henkie not realising whose hair Oom Dial was talking about, rushed after him. He thought Oom Dial had seen something that he didn't know about! Of course Oom Henkie made one hell of a noise when he jumped off the wardrobe and Oom Dial (who had ducked beneath one of those old school benches on the stoep) heard the thing on the wardrobe coming after him!
Oom Dial tried to get out from under the bench but he was stuck! What a commotion on that stoep. He thought death is after him! Oom Henkie had by now caught up with him and both were running to their parent's room. By now Oom Dial was wondering why oom Henkie was so afraid.
The front door wasn't locked in those days, but the screen door was closed. The screen door opened out towards Oom Dial, but in his panic he went straight through it! He had to get to the bedroom, to his parents! One after the other the two young men jumped straight onto the double bed between their mother and father!
After much explaining and calming down, they realised that they had been running away from each other.
TBC car wreck, storm cloud and a half road.