Of Tuli and life

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Avontier

Race Dog
Joined
Aug 25, 2009
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Bike
KTM 690 Adventure
As the saying goes- life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.

I suppose that most people realise this as an epiphany somewhere during their lives, mostly too late.

I've been wanting to do a bike trip with my dad for years now. It's always been at the back of my mind, regularly surfacing only to be filed again as it's just never the right time.

This thread was another indictment on my conscience for not making good on the promise I had made to myself.

My dad is my hero. Always has been. Always will be.

He grew up in Ellisras with my gran and an older sister and brother, who've all since passed away, most recently his sis.  His father died while my gran was six months pregnant with my dad. He never had a dad. Ever. They stayed on a small family farm just outside of town, where he and his brother started fiddling with old motorbikes from early on.

His passion for bikes remained strong ever since, and he's always had at least one form of bike somewhere. After school he joined the Police and served in the Pretoria Flying Squad for a while. He then moved to Swartruggens and Matooster where he served in Bophuthatswana Police Force for a few years. This is where I was born. Around 1980 after leaving the SAP, he joined Impala Platinum Mine near Rustenburg's security department.

The recent Marikana conflicts are nothing new. In those days and in the same area, the hostels were occupied by many thousands of hard-knuckled mine workers. General lawlessness reigned supreme, sporting a roaring dagga trade. No one had the the guts/stupidity/army to enter the hostels for a proper shakedown, and my dad and company had to pursue the dealers on foot in the areas surrounding the hostels. This proved quite unsuccessful as they could be seen from far away, as the terrain was flat and open  with many dongas. It was not easily accessible even by 4x4 vehicles, forcing  them to stop far away. This made their approach very conspicuous and easily evadable.

My dad was not happy with this. He successfully campaigned for two new Hondas. One XR500, and an XL500s to help them in their mission. They placed empty steel drums and scaffolding planks at various places in and over the dongas. Then began the adventure! With these bikes they blitzed an area, easily chasing down the fleeing dealers and other wrong-doers. They made a huge number of arrests and convictions in a short space of time. He earned himself quite a reputation with this and was soon promoted beyond his years.

This is my dad on one of the bikes
 

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