White Stripes
Pack Dog
The whole thing started with my search for a new bike. I needed something mean, cool, cheap, big, light, fast, safe and so on and so on. During my search I was challenged to have another look at my humble, slow, workhorse, Suzy DR 200.
I also had a big challenge before me which was to set the right time, place, atmosphere, vibe, to ask the American to stay longer. That being forever. Without naming that dreadful word! (The "M" word, to be precise.)
To take on Namaqualand with two people on a 200 just didn't sound nice. However, I just had to try this. As we always say: take it slow and don't panic.
So we set off first day of the long weekend in August. A bit too early for the flowers, but what the hell.
We started in Langebaan, planning to travel to Groenrivier for our first camp. GPS and MapSource provided the route, as much as possible on dirt. Bike was very heavily loaded and because of the fact that I packed most of the stuff in two ammo boxes, very top-heavy. That was a serious mistake and almost had us on our noses a few times.
In Velddrif, we encountered one of these bikes with 6 times the displacement of our humble DR200. We smiled sheepishly and paid for the Coke Light. What argument do you have against something that purrs like a giant cat and looks like a long legged girl with raven black hair? >
We struggled to get the intercom to work. I fastened two lighter jacks for 12 volt supply to drive the GPS and other things. At first I had the polarity mixed up, so the American decided that A3 batteries will do. It worked for as long the batteries were fully charged and we drove slowly.
A very scenic route took us via Dwarskersbos, Elandsbaai, Lambertsbaai and Strandfontein. Fond memories of stupid things I did in my youth, mingled with the smell of flowers, plants and the sea, made me think very deep and enjoy every second.
At Lutzville, the road was flooded, so we had to take a detour though another part of town. I found a golf ball I sliced hopelessly at nr. 1 a few years ago.
We filled up and embarked on the last stretch to Groenrivier. Once off the boring tarred road, things changed to the Namaqualand we came to see. Road was getting worse as we drove on. At Brandewynkraal se Berg we lost the route and ended up on a real â??plaaspadâ?. Just two tracks, up the hill. Very slippery with lose rocks and sand. A very friendly farmer and his even friendlier son helped us in typical Namaqualand accent and hospitality to get back to the road. I later discovered that the route the GPS gave was correct, the road was altered.
On our way down, we had a lot of loose sand and soon I was losing the track to the left. I chose the 4 foot melkbos next to the road to stop us, resulting in a one and a half foot bush, me and American on top of each other next to and partly under the bike.
After we succeeded in getting over our hysterical laughter, my leg was freed from under the bike and we were on our way again.
At Kotzesrus, Nandoâ??s was closed, so we drove on. ;D
On the last stretch to Groenrivier, it was getting dark and the road, dangerous. In contrast to the previous stretches that simply didnâ??t allow you to drive fast, this was a good road, but badly damaged with deep furrows in places.
At Groenrivier, 395 km from home, it was so dark that we couldnâ??t find a dry campsite. In spite of my resolution not to, I decided to encroach on the privacy of one of the many shacks Adriaan Nieuwoud and friends erected along the beach. We found a â??houseâ? with a roof under which we could pitch our tent and park the bike. We filled the air mattress, poured wine and relaxed with a chameleon of senses, colour, fragrances and the sound of breaking waves from the sea. We were outside and free! :brave:
I also had a big challenge before me which was to set the right time, place, atmosphere, vibe, to ask the American to stay longer. That being forever. Without naming that dreadful word! (The "M" word, to be precise.)
To take on Namaqualand with two people on a 200 just didn't sound nice. However, I just had to try this. As we always say: take it slow and don't panic.
So we set off first day of the long weekend in August. A bit too early for the flowers, but what the hell.
We started in Langebaan, planning to travel to Groenrivier for our first camp. GPS and MapSource provided the route, as much as possible on dirt. Bike was very heavily loaded and because of the fact that I packed most of the stuff in two ammo boxes, very top-heavy. That was a serious mistake and almost had us on our noses a few times.
In Velddrif, we encountered one of these bikes with 6 times the displacement of our humble DR200. We smiled sheepishly and paid for the Coke Light. What argument do you have against something that purrs like a giant cat and looks like a long legged girl with raven black hair? >
We struggled to get the intercom to work. I fastened two lighter jacks for 12 volt supply to drive the GPS and other things. At first I had the polarity mixed up, so the American decided that A3 batteries will do. It worked for as long the batteries were fully charged and we drove slowly.
A very scenic route took us via Dwarskersbos, Elandsbaai, Lambertsbaai and Strandfontein. Fond memories of stupid things I did in my youth, mingled with the smell of flowers, plants and the sea, made me think very deep and enjoy every second.
At Lutzville, the road was flooded, so we had to take a detour though another part of town. I found a golf ball I sliced hopelessly at nr. 1 a few years ago.
We filled up and embarked on the last stretch to Groenrivier. Once off the boring tarred road, things changed to the Namaqualand we came to see. Road was getting worse as we drove on. At Brandewynkraal se Berg we lost the route and ended up on a real â??plaaspadâ?. Just two tracks, up the hill. Very slippery with lose rocks and sand. A very friendly farmer and his even friendlier son helped us in typical Namaqualand accent and hospitality to get back to the road. I later discovered that the route the GPS gave was correct, the road was altered.
On our way down, we had a lot of loose sand and soon I was losing the track to the left. I chose the 4 foot melkbos next to the road to stop us, resulting in a one and a half foot bush, me and American on top of each other next to and partly under the bike.
After we succeeded in getting over our hysterical laughter, my leg was freed from under the bike and we were on our way again.
At Kotzesrus, Nandoâ??s was closed, so we drove on. ;D
On the last stretch to Groenrivier, it was getting dark and the road, dangerous. In contrast to the previous stretches that simply didnâ??t allow you to drive fast, this was a good road, but badly damaged with deep furrows in places.
At Groenrivier, 395 km from home, it was so dark that we couldnâ??t find a dry campsite. In spite of my resolution not to, I decided to encroach on the privacy of one of the many shacks Adriaan Nieuwoud and friends erected along the beach. We found a â??houseâ? with a roof under which we could pitch our tent and park the bike. We filled the air mattress, poured wine and relaxed with a chameleon of senses, colour, fragrances and the sound of breaking waves from the sea. We were outside and free! :brave:
