Bensien
Race Dog
The only reason I’m doing this report is because Carrots has more important items on his agenda. Once his busy schedule allows, he will hopefully add some more photos and information that may have slipped my alcohol eroded memory.
The plan was to hit the road to Belfast over the long weekend from 15-17 December, stay at a cottage belonging to relatives of Carrots and explore some of the roads in the area. In the end, the group consisted of Carrots, Laurika, Cocky and Beatrix, Bud500 and Adri, Erika and me. Four KTM’s Adventures and a Yamaha XT660. The only cause for concern was that Carrots had only been recently released from hospital after his heart had tried to reject him, and the dreadful prospect of having to give him CPR if it happened again.
We rendezvoused at the BP filling station in Olympus. As expected, Cocky arrived late and was complaining about something. After filling up, we took the back road to Bronkhorstspruit, where we regrouped before hitting the dirt road in the direction of Loskop dam. I was hoping that the recent rains had not made the road to difficult. The previous time Erika and I did heavy mud, we fell so many times that even I had difficulty maintaining my usually sunny disposition. Luckily the road was in fair condition, so we soon relaxed and enjoyed the scenery, and the way the new suspension on my bike just made it seem to float over the corrugations.
A quick stop at the bridge over Wilge river for refreshments. We then followed the dirt roads past the game farms, finally getting onto the N11 near Ruby River Lodge where we stopped for brunch. After Carrots’ recent health problems, he settled for the “healthy” option of a toasted bacon & cheese sandwich.
A stretch of tar again and then a nice stretch of gravel where we could give it a bit of stick. The tar road from Stofberg to Belfast made a few nice twisties. Carrots and Cocky raced ahead and reflex made me set off after them, until a sharp punch in my ribs reminded me of my promise that just for once, I would behave. In Belfast Carrots discovered he had a puncture. I was tempted to lie down on the shade while he fixed it, but mindful of his fragile condition, I figured that if his heart attacked him it would cut even further into our riding time, so grudgingly lent a hand.
In Belfast, the women bought the l supermarket empty, despite the fact that the bikes were already overloaded. We made it to headquarters, a beautiful, comfortable stone cottage, overlooking a dam and surrounded by a meadow dotted with Pinzgauer cattle.
Bud got a fire going, and soon had a venison and Oxtail potjie simmering on the coals. An excellent meal, washed down with a robust shiraz. After supper we had some deep philosophical discussions of the kind that will be familiar to Wilddogs when there are copious amounts of alcohol involved. Not even Cocky could find something to complain about.
The next morning we took on the dirt roads between Balfast and Carolina, nothing too technical,, just challenging enough in a few spots to make one pay attention. We got back onto the R33 just outside Belfast, and continued from there past Dullstroom towards Lydenburg. Along the way we stopped so that Carrots could fulfil his ambition of having a picnic in a plantation.
On the way I nearly lost on the muddy path that lead back to the road. While doing a low speed right hand turn, the front wheel sank into a hole, the bike came to a sudden stop and stalled. The thought of the satisfaction it would give the others if I fell in the mud, made me put my foot out and drag the bike upright by the handlebars.
The Carrots salute is highly addictive.
At the last traffic light in Lydenburg, going towards the Long Tom pass Carrots’ bike started making a strange noise. We found a shady spot and stripped the clutch cover off, to discover that one of the clutch bolts had come undone and was rattling around inside the cover.
While working on the bike an old guy walked past with a little dog, who suddenly developed an attraction for my bike and no amount of enticement could get him to move. It seems not even animals are immune to the KTM magic
With the bike going again we hit the Long Tom pass to Hops Hollow brewery. Laurika missed the turn off and Carrots chased after her, eventually catching here near Graskop. While we were tasting the brews and deciding that the quality had definitely deteriorated, a thick blanket of fog descended, so we waited it out in front of the fireplace. From there to Dullstroom, where we barely made it to the Anvil Ale micro brewery before the rain came down. Excellent food and even better beers, well worth a visit next time you pass through. Once the rain stopped, we made our way back to the cabin, and again barely made it before the next shower.
Another excellent supper, this time consisting of fillet and braaibroodjies. Some more drinks, intelligent conversation and Cocky complaining that I complain too much about all his complaining and that I suffered from a complete lack of personality. On Monday morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we hit the road back to Pretoria, stopping at Rafters for lunch before going our separate ways.
This was truly an enjoyable trip, mostly because nobody fell, nobody almost died, no serious arguments or personality clashes, (probably because some of us don’t have any) and a promise of many great rides to come this year.
The plan was to hit the road to Belfast over the long weekend from 15-17 December, stay at a cottage belonging to relatives of Carrots and explore some of the roads in the area. In the end, the group consisted of Carrots, Laurika, Cocky and Beatrix, Bud500 and Adri, Erika and me. Four KTM’s Adventures and a Yamaha XT660. The only cause for concern was that Carrots had only been recently released from hospital after his heart had tried to reject him, and the dreadful prospect of having to give him CPR if it happened again.
We rendezvoused at the BP filling station in Olympus. As expected, Cocky arrived late and was complaining about something. After filling up, we took the back road to Bronkhorstspruit, where we regrouped before hitting the dirt road in the direction of Loskop dam. I was hoping that the recent rains had not made the road to difficult. The previous time Erika and I did heavy mud, we fell so many times that even I had difficulty maintaining my usually sunny disposition. Luckily the road was in fair condition, so we soon relaxed and enjoyed the scenery, and the way the new suspension on my bike just made it seem to float over the corrugations.
A quick stop at the bridge over Wilge river for refreshments. We then followed the dirt roads past the game farms, finally getting onto the N11 near Ruby River Lodge where we stopped for brunch. After Carrots’ recent health problems, he settled for the “healthy” option of a toasted bacon & cheese sandwich.
A stretch of tar again and then a nice stretch of gravel where we could give it a bit of stick. The tar road from Stofberg to Belfast made a few nice twisties. Carrots and Cocky raced ahead and reflex made me set off after them, until a sharp punch in my ribs reminded me of my promise that just for once, I would behave. In Belfast Carrots discovered he had a puncture. I was tempted to lie down on the shade while he fixed it, but mindful of his fragile condition, I figured that if his heart attacked him it would cut even further into our riding time, so grudgingly lent a hand.
In Belfast, the women bought the l supermarket empty, despite the fact that the bikes were already overloaded. We made it to headquarters, a beautiful, comfortable stone cottage, overlooking a dam and surrounded by a meadow dotted with Pinzgauer cattle.
Bud got a fire going, and soon had a venison and Oxtail potjie simmering on the coals. An excellent meal, washed down with a robust shiraz. After supper we had some deep philosophical discussions of the kind that will be familiar to Wilddogs when there are copious amounts of alcohol involved. Not even Cocky could find something to complain about.
The next morning we took on the dirt roads between Balfast and Carolina, nothing too technical,, just challenging enough in a few spots to make one pay attention. We got back onto the R33 just outside Belfast, and continued from there past Dullstroom towards Lydenburg. Along the way we stopped so that Carrots could fulfil his ambition of having a picnic in a plantation.
On the way I nearly lost on the muddy path that lead back to the road. While doing a low speed right hand turn, the front wheel sank into a hole, the bike came to a sudden stop and stalled. The thought of the satisfaction it would give the others if I fell in the mud, made me put my foot out and drag the bike upright by the handlebars.
The Carrots salute is highly addictive.
At the last traffic light in Lydenburg, going towards the Long Tom pass Carrots’ bike started making a strange noise. We found a shady spot and stripped the clutch cover off, to discover that one of the clutch bolts had come undone and was rattling around inside the cover.
While working on the bike an old guy walked past with a little dog, who suddenly developed an attraction for my bike and no amount of enticement could get him to move. It seems not even animals are immune to the KTM magic
With the bike going again we hit the Long Tom pass to Hops Hollow brewery. Laurika missed the turn off and Carrots chased after her, eventually catching here near Graskop. While we were tasting the brews and deciding that the quality had definitely deteriorated, a thick blanket of fog descended, so we waited it out in front of the fireplace. From there to Dullstroom, where we barely made it to the Anvil Ale micro brewery before the rain came down. Excellent food and even better beers, well worth a visit next time you pass through. Once the rain stopped, we made our way back to the cabin, and again barely made it before the next shower.
Another excellent supper, this time consisting of fillet and braaibroodjies. Some more drinks, intelligent conversation and Cocky complaining that I complain too much about all his complaining and that I suffered from a complete lack of personality. On Monday morning, after a leisurely breakfast, we hit the road back to Pretoria, stopping at Rafters for lunch before going our separate ways.
This was truly an enjoyable trip, mostly because nobody fell, nobody almost died, no serious arguments or personality clashes, (probably because some of us don’t have any) and a promise of many great rides to come this year.
