To Sani and beyond.

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Strompie

Race Dog
Joined
Nov 23, 2010
Messages
558
Reaction score
9
Location
Pretoria
Bike
BMW (all models)
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Sani pass. The mere mention of the name conjures up images of steep inclines, bad roads, death defying switchbacks and the carcasses of bikes and cars littering the slopes. So what am I doing here? I am here because of a bucket list that has an empty box next to an entry that reads : “Ride up Sani pass”. I am not here on a bike that BrokeMyWallet... No, here I am, with hardly any experience on a bike that, frankly, is ill suited to the task at hand. Like a Springbok team facing the Haka, Sani was sneering at me. Like spaghetti draped over a mountain, the road snakes ever upward. I pulled the clutch, engaged first and gently pulled off. I knew that this was going to be tough, but the bike was pointing in the right direction and I was ready. Ready to prove once and for all, that a V-Strom can do this, even if there was a chop at the helm. Either that, or admit defeat.

So let’s rewind a bit. It’s Sunday morning. The last few days saw a cold front heading in from Cape Town. Reports of snow in Lesotho was not what I wanted to hear. I am never one to believe weather reports, but I latched on to one that predicted Sunshine on Monday. I did not ask anything more. What will be will be. I packed light, and at 6am I headed out the garage. I headed down onto the N3 toward Estcourt. At Villiers I stopped for coffee, my fingers numb from cold and the wind already pumping like crazy. As I was about to depart, two fully loaded XT660z’s pulled in as well. We had a quick chat and these guys, Pieter and Shaun, were going up Sani today already. Something in me wanted to join them but I had to force myself to stick to the original plan to sleep in Himeville and head up on Monday. I stopped before Harrismith for a quick photo and some more coffee.

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To add a little spice to my route, I took the advice of a friend of mine and took the Loteni road to Himeville. Beautiful scenery made me stop every 10 meters to take photos.

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Eventually I had to take in the beauty with my eyes only. The road is in a reasonable condition with the occasional tar bit where I could just let loose. As I pulled into Himeville I located the Himeville Arms, booked in, and took a long soothing bath. I explored the town a bit before dinner, and turned in early.

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All the streetsigns look like this :

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Monday morning. I reluctantly pulled the curtains, but a clear day greeted me. No wind. No clouds. So maybe the weather reports can be accurate after all. I packed the bike, and drove around to the front of the building.

Early morning in Himeville.
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Over breakfast, I collected my thoughts and planned plan B, C and D. Two other bikers joined me and they were heading in the same direction. Chatting to them, I was warned of the last bit that could be problematic. I did not need that. I wanted good news. Not doom and gloom. I mounted Strompie with a sense of trepidation. Lets do this! After the SA border post, the road started its upward climb. I stopped often to take some pictures.

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At one of the stops, a KLR headed in my direction. I flagged the rider down, and his description of the pass was “Fine!”. Those were the word I wanted to hear. Ever upward I went.

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As I approached the switchbacks, I stopped again waiting for three cars to come down. I would rather wait than get stuck halfway up a hill. As they passed me, I started Strompie, and we tackled the last section. As I crested the top, I was properly elated. Some say Sani is not difficult, but for me it was a triumph! The V-Strom did it. And so did the chop!

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The chop at the bar.

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Driving through the border post, I saw a smiling Shaun and Pieter as well. With thumbs up’s all round, I felt quite chuffed with myself. Little did I know the real test still lay ahead.

View from the top
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Sometimes ignorance can be a bitch. According to my GPS, the distance from Sani to Maseru is a mere formality and I could head to Bloemfontein with time to spare. Well, as I headed away from Sani toward Black Mountain pass I can honestly say that I have never quite felt so utterly alone. I had to double my concentration efforts, as a spill here could spell disaster. Suddenly Sani felt easy. This road has some nasty bends and twice I nearly dropped the bike. I was getting really worried, but I pushed on.

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Once over the pass, I suddenly saw a lot of activity.  The Chinese are working feverishly on this stretch of road, and I felt a little more at ease knowing that if I come to grief her, help would be at hand. The gravel ends at Mokhotlong. I filled up, just in case, and headed onto the A1. This is really a good road to be on and it felt good to be going at speed again. I was picturing that cold drink in Bloem with old friends already. Both Strompie and I were smiling again. I thought it was now going to be plain sailing. Soon I hit a little gravel patch. Tar and gravel alternated but eventually the gravel won. I figured the patchy bits were Morse code to describe the road ahead. Dash-Dot-Dash Dot-Dash Dash-Dot-Dash. Look it up, you’ll get the picture. With all the construction vehicles kicking up dust, marbles on the road and a relentless wind, I cursed quietly. I had dust in every conceivable orifice. But what got me in the end was the sheer length of this stretch. Progress was slow and the road just did not want to end. Every crest I came over, I was hoping, praying, that it would be the end of it. However, in the distance the dust clouds were kicked up by trucks as far as the eye could see. Just there my plans changed. I would rather go to Fouriesburg, book into the first B&B I could find and collapse into a heap. Somewhere on the road I passed the highest road in Lesotho ( I think ) but I couldn't care less. 107km later, the gravel road came to an abrupt, but glorious end. I was properly knackered. Before I could do my whole collapsing thing though, I had the Moteng pass to contend with. I forgave Lesotho everything for giving me a road as wonderful as this little gem. Corners galore and spectacular scenery are what I came for and this pass delivered with abundance. All too soon it ended and I was heading to Fouriesburg.

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Tuesday was National Braai day, so the plan was to go to my folks in Parys. I tell you, for once, even I was happy that the whole stretch home was going to be tar. Near Roodepoort a car nearly took me out as it braked for an off ramp it had almost missed. Suddenly it dawned on me, that even in the remoteness of Black Mountain pass it still feels safer than on the N1.
 
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