Day 1: Cape Town to Middelpos via Ceres and the Tankwa Karoo336 km, the first 130 km tar, thereafter gravel.
When I arrive at the Winelands N1 it is cold and rainy, and the photographer is on all fours! (Is he performing some ancient rainrelated ritual?)
Turns out the stepped through his rainsuit instead of into it! But ductape is a wonderful thing. And of course this time nothing was going to stop us.
Middelpos here we come!
We departed and followed our leader through Nuwekloof to Ceres, in cold, drizzling weather. We decided that Bainskloof in mist on a wet road was not an option. If it was gravel, it could have been a different story…
I was wrapped in 6 layers of clothing and was snugly and smugly sneering at the weather, when, all of a sudden, Margaret flashed her big yellow sign at me signalling that she may soon want to stop for refreshments! Oh no, did I miscalculate? I knew we were going to fill up in Ceres and was convinced that I had enough left to reach it. So why the yellow light? And then it dawned on me: My commute is urban only, no highways, so lots of stop/start. And in winter I mostly start Margaret with the choke first thing in the morning. So consumption is high, hence the reduced range as now indicated by a brightly lit yellow light. OK, light explained. That still does not say whether I will make Ceres. I do mental arithmetic. Will I/won’t I? When I see the turnoff to Gouda approaching I consider it to stop but do some more virtual maths and decide to chance it. I decide that if I make it to the Wolseley turnoff, I will be fine. Should I run out of juice after that, I will do the lie-the-bike-on-the-side-and-force-the-reserve-to-the-pump-trick.
Which was not necessary, I made it!
And on the way there was good scenery.
We refuel in Ceres
and head for the Wimpy for a cup of coffee to thaw with.
Soon we are on our merry way again
but not even 10 km out of Ceres last night’s fresh snow brings us to a halt
The photographer is extremely proud of this photo he took. It not only captures the wonderful spring weather we experience, but was taken on the move and captures all 3 of us simultaneously.
Don’t be finicky – look again, this time more carefully and you will see two bikes in front of him!
Once over Theronsberg Pass, the transition to clear skies and dry roads is dramatic. We stop at the start of the gravel to deflate tyres.
In an almost uncanny way it illustrates a joke a local told us at the Wimpy:
Rain in the Western Cape stops at the railway line you cross when you leave town. Farmers to the north of the line have often considered moving it so they too can benefit from the rain in the Western Cape! Except, of course, that we had just crossed a mountain, so the transition we are witnessing is real!
And so is the shock when the leader discovers that he left his neckbrace in the Wimpy. We consider the alternatives and before long, he disappears in a meaningful cloud of dust to go fetch it. Myself and the photographer will slowly make our way to the Padstal where we will wait for him.
Or so we thought.
We amble north and then I notice a short tweespoor to what seems like a parking lot at the foot of a hill. Well, we have time, so why not explore!
Amazing view of a wonderfully and almost unnaturally green karoo.
We walked a short distance higher up than the parking lot, and found some interesting plants.
If you can take a photograph of me,
I can take one of you!
We are still messing around when the photographer says
That’s him, there goes our leader! Now allow me to explain: Heimer organised a kop-eet at the Padstal for that day, so there was a constant movement of bikes heading north in the distance. Whilst it is possible to (sometimes) recognise bike types from our lofty vantage point, I thought it was a long shot to say that you recognised an individual. But we leave for the Padstal anyway.
Arriving at the Padstal, we are greeted by this
Recognise that Adv on the left? Yep, that’s him!
Photographer 1, Bernoulli 0 (and the leader 100!)
The Padstal has been documented well on this site, so let me not bore you with that. There were, however, some exceptional vehicles on site:
Each in its own unique way very well equipped for it's intended purpose.
We have a quick bite to eat, before we set of into the vastness that is that wonderful Tankwa Karoo.
We ride to the normal rules: You ride at your own pace and you are responsible for the rider behind you, i.e. you wait for him at every turn-off. In our case, however, another variation soon becomes evident. The leader can and does travel a lot faster than the rest of us, and when we continually stop to take photos, we sometimes lose sight of him completely. Then we tend to find him like this
Somewhere during the week-end we discussed it, and all agreed that it was working for all of us. Nobody was under pressure not to keep anyone waiting, neither did we have to test any boundaries unnecessarily. It really was a relaxing ride.
That had its moments…
Topic: Verneukpan, the second attempt (Read 11818 times)
