7km of hell

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krazy-eyes

Race Dog
Joined
Feb 10, 2006
Messages
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Location
Johannesburg
Bike
BMW R1200GS
7km’s of hell.

So on Friday morning I decided in the spur of the moment to hit the road. What else was I going to do, sit at home in the company of a girlfriend who’s sulking and won’t tell me why? Hell no!

The moment she left for work I hastily packed my stuff. Headlamp, Tent, sleepingbag, mattress, toothbrush, and gas cooker for coffee – anything else would have been too much. Oh, one more thing, don’t forget the beanie because I just shaved my hair that morning.

I have a vague idea of where to go. I’ll head to Loskop dam and spend the night, then decide the next morning whether  I’ll carry on or head back home.

The bike packed and ready.


The first gravel road near Roodeplaat dam, just after buying biltong and a pie north of Pretoria – that takes care of food.


Things begin to get more fun as I near Loskop dam. This is 60km of dirt-heaven. Just a pity it is over so quickly.





Seeing this sign I got a feeling of dread because the last time I rode this stretch of road was at night!


Late afternoon sun at my back, golden grass, and a beautiful stretch of road ahead - Not a care in the world!


Such a clever way of keeping out the savages, rapists, and murderers – no one will test it to see if it is true or not.


Home for the night.




Now, interesting story – no sooner had I parked my bike when a lady camping nearby sent her kid over to offer me a beer. This chick was clearly single and in need of some male company. I thought I’d go have a look-see. She wasn’t much of a looker, so I thought I’d have a few beers to change that. The company was great, but 9 beers later and she still didn’t look any hotter to me, so I decided to hit the tent instead.


The next morning I woke up and realised that I STILL didn’t feel like going back to face more silent-treatment at home, so a plan was hatched!


A few weeks ago I flew from Joburg to a spot north of Tzaneen on an aerial survey. What peaked my interest was the Olifants river as it wound its way through the escarpment. I had never noticed this area before as it is somewhat off the beaten track. So today I thought I’d go and find out if it was possible to follow the river and forge a route through the mountains down to Hoedspruit. Hopefully this route, if it existed, would be north of the Strijdom tunnel road, but south of the Magoebaskloof road, preferably dirt, and along the river itself.

The area seen from the air.




First I had to get away from Loskop dam. As beautiful as it is, sleeping in a tent listening to trucks come down the hill al night was rather shit.


I followed the river, doing 60% gravel, and the rest tar (obviously). After filling up at Groblersdal, I took a bit of a detour to get some gravel under my wheels. It started out quite pleasant, but quickly turned into thick sand. Luckily it was only about 25km before getting back on tar.




I then continued North Eastwards. This is Lebowakgomo, I’m guessing a former homeland. I’d heard of it as a kid, but had never been there. It felt like I was back in Botswana (I lived in Maun for a year flying tourists around the lodges in the Okavango), but I couldn’t figure out why. Then it hit me – wild sage!!!
Both Maun and this place is abundant with wild sage plants, and the smell is very strong. Some love it, some hate it. In Maun I eventually started associating it with a sweaty donkey, because Maun has lots and lots of mingey-looking stray donkeys. It sure did bring back memories.

Wild sage.


I stopped to buy a snack somewhere. I don’t know what it was called, lol.


Then continued to find a spot next to the road to have lunch. The scenery reminded me of the northern cape or karoo. I’d hate to experience how hot this place gets in summer!






India? I think I’m lost.


Lunch break in the middle of nowhere.






I was using the GPS very loosely. With the settings on “shortest distance”, I had selected Hoedspruit as a destination, then headed more or less along the river on whatever dirt tracks I could find, but only zoomed out enough to see if the dirt tracks were dead-ends or not. The beauty of this method is that you know that it will get you to your destination in the end, but you have control over the actual route by looking at the map in front of you on the screen. You can constantly change your route as the GPS will re-calculate as you go along.

The GPS then suggested I cross the Olifants here! Luckily there was a bridge not much further.


I then headed down into a valley. It kept getting more beautiful, but also grew more remote.




The road came within inches of the Olifants river.


In some places it was overgrown on the edges. I definitely got the feeling this was the road less travelled.


Then it very unceremoniously the tar came to an end. Looking ahead I was unsure if this road would come out the other side of the mountains ahead of me, yet the GPS showed a road going through, so I continued.


It was amazingly beautiful!


I then crossed a bridge. It was tarred, so naturally I felt relieved at the fact that I was back on tar, meaning the most remote part was behind me, confirming that the route continued all the way through the mountains.



The tar ended as quickly as it started, and I was back on gravel. The gravel no longer looked like a road, but rather a track. The locals stood looking at me as if I was lost. Maybe I was. The track was overgrown and smacked of infrequent use. I feared that the next corner would see the track fizzle out into nothing, and it did!
The GPS said “continue on road”, but there was none. I looked ahead and saw a VERY rough looking track disappearing into the thick undergrowth, so I decided to push ahead just a little bit further, although I no doubt would have to turn around. This very much looked like the end of the road, and it certainly was the end of the valley.

I pushed on going up a very steep track. It was rocky, it was rough, and I places there were sharp rocks jutting out of the ground – real sump-smashers. After a while it looked slightly more used, but I still doubted that this track would lead all the way to the top of the towering mountain in front of me.




By now I was committed. Turning this big bike around here would be impossible. Heck, merely Stopping alone would prove challenging! I kept in first gear, stood up, and chugged along, using weight-shift to steer. Sometimes I was hanging all the way to one side to keep the bike upright as the boulders kept altering my course. My heart was racing and I was out of breath. Then I hit a big one and stalled the engine, flinging me forward into the handle-bars and screen as I stopped abruptly! I held the bike up though. The foolishness of my endeavour became all the more apparent – on the left was thick bush growing on the side of the mountain, and on my right was a sheer drop. One mistake, one boulder in the wrong place, and I’d be going off the side, with no one to help me salvage the end result. I kept going none the less as the GPS showed this to be a road, but it also showed I was in a nature reserve – what if I get to a fence, or locked gate?!
Going up, as hard as it was, was still more favourable than going down.
I was overheating, and I was worried that labouring up there at idle speed in first gear would do the same to the bike!

But then, hope - Vehicle tracks! If someone else has been up here recent enough for tracks to be visible, maybe, just maybe I can get through. I kept wrestling the bike up and over the loose rocks and imbedded boulders. Every so often the front rim would slam into a rock with an excruciating sound, loose rocks would get flung up into the sump-guard, the shocks would bottom, and the engine would make that labouring sound you get when the revs are too low for the selected gear. But being in first gear, I had no choice, as I was in the lowest gear already. Going faster was too hard on the rims and shocks, and going slower made it harder on the engine – I had to find a middle ground.

The track opened up and I decided to risk stopping for a break.


The track can be seen in the thick bush.


Loose rocks. The ones pictured here are NOTHING compared to some parts of this trail. There was no way to stop and take a picture though. It was too steep, and technical, and pulling off again would have been near impossible on the loose surface-rocks.


Then, after about 5km I turned a corner and there was a gate. No!  I’m NOT turning back. I’ll break it open if I have to. But as I got near I saw that there was no lock.


I was exhausted and overheating. The mandatory break did me well.


There was a friendly guy who came out of one of the rondavels with a clipboard. He filled in my details and I was off again, but not before asking him whether it was possible to get through to Tzaneen, to which he replied “yes”. He also said the road got better, but he was quite vague, and in the end for another two very long kilometres it didn’t get better at all.


Parts of it was in a bush-tunnel. Spectacular.


Then, suddenly, the bush cleared and it was grassland - I was on top of the Drakensberg mountains. The track then became a nice “tweespoor”.


I have never been this glad to see a gravel road come to an end.




Here it is, the Lekgalameetse pass.

 
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