Now, I know Wild Dogs don't cry, but then again charred dogs can't ride, bit ashamed to tell, but you might have read my thread on what adventure is, and I grootbek tuned there of going to find a bridge I saw on the map. What I did not know then was that there was going to be a mother-of-thunderstorms over the area where the bridge is and I read a thread on lightning and biking and did some more research on the subject in the meantime and man, I kaark myself for electrical storms and no, we did not go see that particular bridge but we saw the storm protecting it and the cloud formations around it.

Another ruin, this one from the 1800's, first farmers there according to the locals.


On to the next pan where we planned to overnight "as seen on Google E", and this one is a pleasant surprise since it cannot be seen until you basically ride into it. In fact, it is so well hidden that according to James, the one legged farmer on who's property it is, it was earmarked as a secret emergency gathering point by PDub Botha & Sons in case of a communist/Russian/Cuban/alien invasion of Safrica. You could hide an army there without anyone knowing, well, unless they have Google E and a GPS. So after telling James who my cuzzin is and that my dad was school pals with him and that we plan to cold-camp with no fire and we won't leave plastic bags lying around for his cattle to constipate on and so on and Linda gave him "the smile" he agreed to let us camp at his pan for the night. Some funny cactus growing in the rock plates and a smaller pan before the real thing.


One of the highlights of the trip, the pan that's the stuff National Geographic writes about. We'll just call it James's pan. A massive pre-historic sandstone plate gave way for the pan to form, surrounded by amazing sandstone formations and shade trees. There's even a few flamingos around.

We scouted around and took some amazing pics as the sun set. The ultra wide angle lens I schlepped along in the trekker camera backpack all the way proved itself worth every gram it weighs, it was indispensable to portray the expanse and solitude of the pan.




Our campsite, the dots around in the darkness are not stars nor dead camera pixels, it's creatures checking us out 'cause walking towards them with a torch made them duck. We sat in total darkness in front of our little tent for hours watching the wide expanse of bright stars over the pan and the flashing thunderstorms far off on the horizon. The jackal cried his lonely song. Sipping hot coffee, you cannot help but scheme just being there makes you remember why you seek out places and circumstances like this, riding miles of muddy roads, hanging around on forums like this, drooling over maps, readying bikes for trips..moments like these are the reward and not commercially available for any sum of money, it's about who you are that makes it possible to appreciate and experience it for what it is.

Next leg of the trip, on to Kommandodrift, hot as hell. Passed through Makwassie, a small forgotten town, very clean and neat and then got off the tar again heading for the other bridge over the Vaal river, built in the 40's and still standing and used. Smoke-break under a typical African Acasia tree and Linda in full kit sporting her new Arai helmet.




Filling water bottles fresh from earth and a two legged monkey checking us out along the way to Kommandodrift bridge.


The bridge, coffee boiling on the Armco barrier and a photo opportunity of note. Did a shot for a poster for our wall. Draped the ThinkBike vest over the top box of the rear TW while parked there after the second local farmer came round the corner fearlessly broad siding his bakkie to do so and then gunning it for the bridge when he sees there's no one on it. (It's a single track bridge & the TDub due to it's size might easily be mistaken for a local's bicycle parked there while said local is on ablution duties under the bridge)




Linda crossing. Little did we know that we would fly over this exact spot 3 days later at 800kmh and 10 000 meters high on our way to Cape town, we could even see the bridge from the plane and have the GPS track to prove it.

Kommandodrif Winkel and reception for Kommandodrif Hengel oord. Now this place is a gem for Adv riders, it has 7 odd bungalows at R80 pp, it's somewhat rundown but has breathtaking scenery and it's a stone throw from the bridge. There's 3 different gravel roads leading to it and very important to most, it sports a bottle store. It is run by auntie Hester and again after negotiating at grassroots level as we spoke I convinced her that the kinda ouks I'm going to tell about her spot are nature lovers on bikes. She eventually declared that she will allow bikes but "DO NOT WANT BIKERS LIKE THOSE ON RALLIES DOING BROWNIES IN THE STREETS". After some deep thought I concluded she meant throwing doughnuts in the streets rather than meaning kaarking in the streets. But either way, don't kaark in her streets should you ever go there, you will nullify my lengthy laborious grassroots level discussions in the farking sweaty hot winkel with her. (I could not take my jacket off during discussions since I was packing a CZ and that might have been interpreted as hostile barker attire resulting in a night in Bothaville hotel and there was another motherfarking electrical storm brooding outside.) Meanwhile Linda was doing her Black Empowerment thing amongst the Black unempowered locals and I was just in time to catch one in mid air ungraciously abandoning bike to escape a moer-in mother cause she did not want to smile instead of cry for the camera. Bookings: Hester (056)5153281 or 083 766 4141 and the spot: S27 29 08.2 E26 14 10.8 about 270kays from JHB.


Bungalow A1, the one with the best view on the river and the bridge and cover for the TeeDubs.


We settled in and grabbed some photo opportunities before dashing back to A1 when all hell broke loose and sat out the storm hoping it would leave us with some daylight for more riding on the property. The storm approaching the bridge we crossed earlier.





After the storm we did some riding checking out the amazing rock formations and Linda did the typical "moer through water" adventure rider shot of me doing the GS stance on the TeeDub. The erdvark holes in the grass are treacherous, most big enough to swallow a front wheel and send you head over gat into the grass.





Reaching for dry jeans, caught in the act and a pic-in-mirror for an avatar for Linda whom by now have earned to be a Wild Dog bitch.


Linda enjoying her first hot bath since we left home, the bath the size of a plaas dam.

Last walk-about at Kommandodrif before hitting the road home.



Another old disused metal bridge over the Vals river at Bothaville.

High tailing it back home, had a flight to catch to Capetown the next day.

The stats: We did just over 700kms in total, had no breakdowns or flats even though we carried repair kit. The luggage racks and soft panniers worked out nice and so did the dual sport tyres.
After thoughts: Inflateable mattress, 3 man tent instead of 2 man tent so the camera bags and clothes can be kept dry in case of rain, all biscuits to be packed in tupperware containers to avoid eating just crumbs with bullybeef. Crate with lid instead of Givi top box for trips, cannot strap anything on top of top box and the camera backpack limits the height of luggage that can be strapped to the pillion seat.
Linda and my ex F650GS


And Linda and her TW200 about a year ago on trip to Northwest
