DirtyHarry
Race Dog
Last weekend I joined 7 of my airhead friends to the farm Miskloof for a day of riding and a bit of kak praat in the evening.
Meet my friends.
Obviously it was not all about the riding but we explored all tracks on the farm anyway. We found a little quad bike track and did some time trials.
Visiting the sundowner deck without a drink in our hand was odd but the view made up for it. My mates did not know where to put their hands without a drink.
Our bikes parked conveniently in the barn.
The next morning all my friends were in a frantic rush to get home before lunch time. I on the other hand wanted to spend a bit more time on my bike and went to the opposite direction going North on the R355.
The last 12 month I did a lot work on this bike and hardly had a chance to ride her.
My initial plan was to go over Katbakkies Pass to Oasis for a drink and then head home. Winding the neck of my airhead, I did reach the turn off far too quickly for my liking and I decided to do a bit more high speed gravel testing on my bike. There is no better road than the R355 for that purpose. It’s a gravel highway par excellence.
150km later I was at the turn off at De Bos and thought I could make my way from this side to Oasis instead of riding back on the R355. I did not have enough fuel anyway and according to my calculation I would barely reach Clanwilliam to get some fuel. I could also cross the Doring river and try to make it to the Oasis as Gerrit usually has fuel available for us bikers. I decided for the direct way to Oasis, across the Doring river. I do like river crossings as you never know the outcome.
Nice farm roads did lead me westerly to the river. I ignored a sign that indicated the river would be impassible at the moment due to the high water level. I was hoping that this sign would only be valid for the winter month after heavy rains.
When I saw the river from a distance, it seemed to be pretty wide. I took this as a good sign as wider rivers are usually shallow.
When I got closer it still looked alright to me and I started to do the sensible thing and walked the river first. It was knee deep the first couple of meters and then it got a little bit shallower in the middle. The water level was not my only concern. It was the loose sand which worried me a bit as my bike would sink in deeper because of the soft ground. There was also a pontoon on the other side of the river, but how the hell would I get my heavy bike on my own on that platform and across the river.
I was considering my option to retreat and to go back the same way where I came from. To make it easier for me, I did sit on my bike and looked straight ahead to the other side of the river. It was my calling to see what the other side would look like and I started the engine ready to cross some water. I was hoping that the bow wave would keep my rather low positioned carbs out of trouble. In I went.
The first 5 meters I did keep a steady pace but the ground was quite soft and my bike was sitting a lot deeper in the piss than I was hoping for. When the water was flooding over my cylinders I bailed out and stopped the engine with the kill switch. I did not want risk to get water in the cylinders and to bend a valve or destroy the whole engine.
Now I was 10 meter in the river up to my knees and already had the feeling that I will get into deep shit pushing my bike on the soft sanded river bed. It was a question of pushing my bike 10 meter back or 30 meters ahead to get to the other side. Since it was getting a bit shallower towards the middle of the river, I was hoping that the way forward would be the right one.
To get the bike moving in the soft sand was quite a challenge. It was my 78kg against the 200kg of my bike. After 5 m I though my lungs gonna pop and I had not even reached the halfway mark. To make it to the other side I had to keep my physical efforts on a more manageable level. Instead of looking too far ahead of me, I was focusing only on the next meter in front of me rather. I also did not want to rest for too long as I had the feeling that the bike was sinking in deeper when it was standing still.
When I reached the middle of the river it was getting a bit shallower but I also had to push my bike upwards a bit, which did cost me even more energy.
Usually I question my motives in situation like that but not at this moment of time. I was determent to get my bike to the other side no matter what. I was working on this bike hard enough and spent too much money to allow to drown my bike on the first ride already. My beloved airhead project was not destined to die like that.
It felt like my front wheel was getting blocked from submerged rocks, even if I could not see them. I had to pull the bike sideways a lot of times to gain another meter or two until my wheels found another rock and stopped the bike again. To make matters worse, I did only walk the river to the halfway mark as the last bit looked pretty shallow to me. Instead of getting shallower, the water level was getting deeper with every step. My cylinders were completely submerged and I had no hope to reach the other side being able to start up my bike and to drive off. Now it was just to save my bike, I was not expecting to get away from here too quickly.
I honestly don’t know how I made the last 10m of the river and where I did get the strength to continue. When I had my bike on solid ground again, I took the time to sit down and evaluate my situation. The Cell phone was not an option as the whole region of the Cederberg is nowhere land on the charts of the Cellphone providers.
Usually I do my trips well prepared and carry a lot of tools and food with me. Not so this time as I initially only wanted to go for a little weekend ride with my mates. Unfortunately I have only had two Rusks and an instant coffee in the morning before we left at Miskloof and I started to develop a huge whole in my stomach. I had no provisions and worst of all, I had no spark plug spanner with me. On the plus side I had a sleeping bag and lots of water from the river.
My first step was to establish how much water entered my engine parts and if there was any hope that the inside of my cylinders could still be dry. I took off the carburetors and a big amount of water was pouring out from the intake side and the air filter side. The carb bowl was not filled with petrol as usual, it was filled with pure water. It didn’t even smell of petrol anymore. I had no other option than to take all parts off my bike which could have taken any water. Even my air box of the filter was halfway filled with water.
The most worrying part was the water that was coming out on the intake side of the cylinders. Depending on the valve position, water could have entered either of the intake or exhaust valve.
After laying out all parts in the sun to dry, I could not see any other way than to take the spark plugs out to be able to get rid of any water inside.
I decided to go for an extended walk, to find a farm house or someone who could borrow me a spark plug spanner. The first building after the hill looked so desolate, I was sure no human being would live there anymore. In any case, I would only find a spanner at a place with a vehicle. After another 2km I did see a farm building and I speeded up to get there. There were a few sheep and goats in the field and best of all, I could see a tractor and two old bakkies. I was screaming my “Hellloo” for at least 10 minutes but not a single soul was to be seen. The two farm dogs already started to ignore me by that time.
I was really getting desperate to see if I could find any tools and had a look through the open window of one of the bakkies. On the passenger floor I could see a few rusted tools lying and I went closer to see if something could remotely work as a spark plug spanner. There were lying a few spanners and only one socket. It was the size 21 which could well be the size of my spark plugs. I also found an old wrench. This could be my lucky day and I was holding both tools in my hands, ready to sneak out of that farm area like a thief. If any farmer would see a desperate biker walking away with some of his tools… I could already see a death warrant on my head. I was desperate enough to take my chances and I would return the tools sooner or later anyway. That made me only feel like a sneaky borrower not like a thief.
As much as I wanted to find the owner of the farm to ask for help 5 minutes ago, I did not want to face any angry farmer right now to be accused of stealing his tools. I almost started to run to get some distance between me and the farm house.
You start to think about a lot of stupid things when you are faced with an unforeseeable situation, without knowing the outcome. This was the time and place for me to think about a lot of different outcomes and most of them did not end pretty.
When I reached my bike, I was sending prayers to the sky that the only spanner I could find within a 3 km radius was the one needed to unscrew my spark plugs. It did. It almost felt like that I did not deserve so much luck, but I gladly accepted to be the winner of a lucky draw.
Out came the plugs and I when I was pushing the start bottom, I saw a serious amount of water squirting out of the spark plug holes. This really didn’t come as a surprise to me as I was standing over knee-deep in the river for most of the time. Every time I cranked over the engine more water come out.
How long would I be able to crank over my engine to get the water out until my battery would not be able to start it when I put the spark plugs back in? I did wait a couple of minutes at the time before I cranked the engine again. I was in no hurry anymore. If the bike would not start, I could sleep at the river or walk back to the farm to explain my situation and to ask for mercy for stealing the tools.
Only when I did not see any water squirting out anymore, I was attending to my carbs which also had water in every cavity. When I was finished with everything, I took more time for the sun to dry any possible water being stuck in any corner of my engine.
To fill my time usefully, I opened the rubber boot of the swing arm, to see if any water would pour out there as well. It did.
And then there was some black grime coming out as well. No idea what that could be.
I assembled the bike and had the bright idea of only putting the spark plugs in hand tight for the first starting attempts, just to be safe. A couple of starting attempts later I did realize that my engine would never fire without the necessary compression and tightened the spark plugs completely. I was always waiting a couple of minutes between every starting attempt, to get the best life out of my battery as possible. The engine cranked over quite well but nothing sounded like an ignition in the combustion chamber until now. I started to empty the content of the carb bowls again, just to make sure there would not be any water trapped inside.
When I was about to lose any hope that my engine would start, one cylinder was firing and sent a huge amount of water out of the exhaust.
The next attempt brought more life back into my engine and in no time she was firing on both pots again. The engine didn’t didn’t ref properly at this stage but she sounded sweet already.
Ready to hit the road again.
I was in no hurry to pack all my belongings together and drove slowly on my bike towards the farm, to return the borrowed tools. This time a farm worker was standing next to the house and came towards me. I was handing him the tools over and excused myself for helping myself without asking for permission to do so. He didn’t seem to be very impressed of my reasoning for walking away with the tools of his boss but when I handed him a blue Mandela note, his face lightened up considerably. Then more people appeared and I repeated myself a couple of times that my engine got flooded in the river.
The daughter told me that her dad died last year and she and her mum were not able to run the farm any longer. They were about to rent out the land to another farmer. Luckily they could spare a couple of liters of fuel which increased my chances to make it at least to Oasis.
Lili was sharing a few liters of her valuable fuel and I handed her my last notes to support her troubled household. After a chat with her and her daughter I decided to carry on. I must have thanked them a thousand times before I really took off.
It felt so good to be mobile again and I enjoyed every km of the ride. I always thought how long it would have taken me by foot to cover the distance.
Even from this side there was a cul-de-sac sign.
The Doring river was a lot deeper than what I would have expected for this time of the year.
I was smiling from ear to ear. The rest of the trip through Eselsbank was enjoyable as ever. Really nice riding around these roads. I went for a little visit to the waterfall. Usually I am time pressed when I ride here, but not so today. I did lose enough time already and was in no rush anymore. It’s a very nice spot to hang out for a day.
Nice roads everywhere.
Along the way I found the 24hr emergency road sign. I wonder how you could call that number without cellphone reception.
Then came the sign of Oasis and I was really looking forward to a couple of cold beers and the famous ribs.
The warm reception from Gerrit never felt more inviting to me. It felt like paradise to me, being able to walk to the fridge and grab a cold beer. I was admiring the view, the late sun and my bike in front of the stoep.
After the second beer I decided to call it a day and to rather sleep over at the Oasis than to rush home. A quick phone call to my wife and I was a free man for another day.
My place for the night.
After a couple of beers and a full portion of the legendary ribs, it was slowly starting to sink in what a great day I had. I drowned my beloved bike in a river and managed to get it going again. Met some nice people and had the privilege to ride the less frequented dirt roads of the Cederberg on my own.
It doesn’t get much better than this. Adventures can be found very close to home as it seems. I don’t have to go all the way to Namibia or other faraway places. The Cederberg delivered one more time.
Constantly looking at alternative routes along the way, I found a couple of promising tracks that I would like to explore on my next ride. The next time I will carry more tools and provision for at least two days, just in case.
Meet my friends.
Obviously it was not all about the riding but we explored all tracks on the farm anyway. We found a little quad bike track and did some time trials.
Visiting the sundowner deck without a drink in our hand was odd but the view made up for it. My mates did not know where to put their hands without a drink.
Our bikes parked conveniently in the barn.
The next morning all my friends were in a frantic rush to get home before lunch time. I on the other hand wanted to spend a bit more time on my bike and went to the opposite direction going North on the R355.
The last 12 month I did a lot work on this bike and hardly had a chance to ride her.
My initial plan was to go over Katbakkies Pass to Oasis for a drink and then head home. Winding the neck of my airhead, I did reach the turn off far too quickly for my liking and I decided to do a bit more high speed gravel testing on my bike. There is no better road than the R355 for that purpose. It’s a gravel highway par excellence.
150km later I was at the turn off at De Bos and thought I could make my way from this side to Oasis instead of riding back on the R355. I did not have enough fuel anyway and according to my calculation I would barely reach Clanwilliam to get some fuel. I could also cross the Doring river and try to make it to the Oasis as Gerrit usually has fuel available for us bikers. I decided for the direct way to Oasis, across the Doring river. I do like river crossings as you never know the outcome.
Nice farm roads did lead me westerly to the river. I ignored a sign that indicated the river would be impassible at the moment due to the high water level. I was hoping that this sign would only be valid for the winter month after heavy rains.
When I saw the river from a distance, it seemed to be pretty wide. I took this as a good sign as wider rivers are usually shallow.
When I got closer it still looked alright to me and I started to do the sensible thing and walked the river first. It was knee deep the first couple of meters and then it got a little bit shallower in the middle. The water level was not my only concern. It was the loose sand which worried me a bit as my bike would sink in deeper because of the soft ground. There was also a pontoon on the other side of the river, but how the hell would I get my heavy bike on my own on that platform and across the river.
I was considering my option to retreat and to go back the same way where I came from. To make it easier for me, I did sit on my bike and looked straight ahead to the other side of the river. It was my calling to see what the other side would look like and I started the engine ready to cross some water. I was hoping that the bow wave would keep my rather low positioned carbs out of trouble. In I went.
The first 5 meters I did keep a steady pace but the ground was quite soft and my bike was sitting a lot deeper in the piss than I was hoping for. When the water was flooding over my cylinders I bailed out and stopped the engine with the kill switch. I did not want risk to get water in the cylinders and to bend a valve or destroy the whole engine.
Now I was 10 meter in the river up to my knees and already had the feeling that I will get into deep shit pushing my bike on the soft sanded river bed. It was a question of pushing my bike 10 meter back or 30 meters ahead to get to the other side. Since it was getting a bit shallower towards the middle of the river, I was hoping that the way forward would be the right one.
To get the bike moving in the soft sand was quite a challenge. It was my 78kg against the 200kg of my bike. After 5 m I though my lungs gonna pop and I had not even reached the halfway mark. To make it to the other side I had to keep my physical efforts on a more manageable level. Instead of looking too far ahead of me, I was focusing only on the next meter in front of me rather. I also did not want to rest for too long as I had the feeling that the bike was sinking in deeper when it was standing still.
When I reached the middle of the river it was getting a bit shallower but I also had to push my bike upwards a bit, which did cost me even more energy.
Usually I question my motives in situation like that but not at this moment of time. I was determent to get my bike to the other side no matter what. I was working on this bike hard enough and spent too much money to allow to drown my bike on the first ride already. My beloved airhead project was not destined to die like that.
It felt like my front wheel was getting blocked from submerged rocks, even if I could not see them. I had to pull the bike sideways a lot of times to gain another meter or two until my wheels found another rock and stopped the bike again. To make matters worse, I did only walk the river to the halfway mark as the last bit looked pretty shallow to me. Instead of getting shallower, the water level was getting deeper with every step. My cylinders were completely submerged and I had no hope to reach the other side being able to start up my bike and to drive off. Now it was just to save my bike, I was not expecting to get away from here too quickly.
I honestly don’t know how I made the last 10m of the river and where I did get the strength to continue. When I had my bike on solid ground again, I took the time to sit down and evaluate my situation. The Cell phone was not an option as the whole region of the Cederberg is nowhere land on the charts of the Cellphone providers.
Usually I do my trips well prepared and carry a lot of tools and food with me. Not so this time as I initially only wanted to go for a little weekend ride with my mates. Unfortunately I have only had two Rusks and an instant coffee in the morning before we left at Miskloof and I started to develop a huge whole in my stomach. I had no provisions and worst of all, I had no spark plug spanner with me. On the plus side I had a sleeping bag and lots of water from the river.
My first step was to establish how much water entered my engine parts and if there was any hope that the inside of my cylinders could still be dry. I took off the carburetors and a big amount of water was pouring out from the intake side and the air filter side. The carb bowl was not filled with petrol as usual, it was filled with pure water. It didn’t even smell of petrol anymore. I had no other option than to take all parts off my bike which could have taken any water. Even my air box of the filter was halfway filled with water.
The most worrying part was the water that was coming out on the intake side of the cylinders. Depending on the valve position, water could have entered either of the intake or exhaust valve.
After laying out all parts in the sun to dry, I could not see any other way than to take the spark plugs out to be able to get rid of any water inside.
I decided to go for an extended walk, to find a farm house or someone who could borrow me a spark plug spanner. The first building after the hill looked so desolate, I was sure no human being would live there anymore. In any case, I would only find a spanner at a place with a vehicle. After another 2km I did see a farm building and I speeded up to get there. There were a few sheep and goats in the field and best of all, I could see a tractor and two old bakkies. I was screaming my “Hellloo” for at least 10 minutes but not a single soul was to be seen. The two farm dogs already started to ignore me by that time.
I was really getting desperate to see if I could find any tools and had a look through the open window of one of the bakkies. On the passenger floor I could see a few rusted tools lying and I went closer to see if something could remotely work as a spark plug spanner. There were lying a few spanners and only one socket. It was the size 21 which could well be the size of my spark plugs. I also found an old wrench. This could be my lucky day and I was holding both tools in my hands, ready to sneak out of that farm area like a thief. If any farmer would see a desperate biker walking away with some of his tools… I could already see a death warrant on my head. I was desperate enough to take my chances and I would return the tools sooner or later anyway. That made me only feel like a sneaky borrower not like a thief.
As much as I wanted to find the owner of the farm to ask for help 5 minutes ago, I did not want to face any angry farmer right now to be accused of stealing his tools. I almost started to run to get some distance between me and the farm house.
You start to think about a lot of stupid things when you are faced with an unforeseeable situation, without knowing the outcome. This was the time and place for me to think about a lot of different outcomes and most of them did not end pretty.
When I reached my bike, I was sending prayers to the sky that the only spanner I could find within a 3 km radius was the one needed to unscrew my spark plugs. It did. It almost felt like that I did not deserve so much luck, but I gladly accepted to be the winner of a lucky draw.
Out came the plugs and I when I was pushing the start bottom, I saw a serious amount of water squirting out of the spark plug holes. This really didn’t come as a surprise to me as I was standing over knee-deep in the river for most of the time. Every time I cranked over the engine more water come out.
How long would I be able to crank over my engine to get the water out until my battery would not be able to start it when I put the spark plugs back in? I did wait a couple of minutes at the time before I cranked the engine again. I was in no hurry anymore. If the bike would not start, I could sleep at the river or walk back to the farm to explain my situation and to ask for mercy for stealing the tools.
Only when I did not see any water squirting out anymore, I was attending to my carbs which also had water in every cavity. When I was finished with everything, I took more time for the sun to dry any possible water being stuck in any corner of my engine.
To fill my time usefully, I opened the rubber boot of the swing arm, to see if any water would pour out there as well. It did.
And then there was some black grime coming out as well. No idea what that could be.
I assembled the bike and had the bright idea of only putting the spark plugs in hand tight for the first starting attempts, just to be safe. A couple of starting attempts later I did realize that my engine would never fire without the necessary compression and tightened the spark plugs completely. I was always waiting a couple of minutes between every starting attempt, to get the best life out of my battery as possible. The engine cranked over quite well but nothing sounded like an ignition in the combustion chamber until now. I started to empty the content of the carb bowls again, just to make sure there would not be any water trapped inside.
When I was about to lose any hope that my engine would start, one cylinder was firing and sent a huge amount of water out of the exhaust.
The next attempt brought more life back into my engine and in no time she was firing on both pots again. The engine didn’t didn’t ref properly at this stage but she sounded sweet already.
Ready to hit the road again.
I was in no hurry to pack all my belongings together and drove slowly on my bike towards the farm, to return the borrowed tools. This time a farm worker was standing next to the house and came towards me. I was handing him the tools over and excused myself for helping myself without asking for permission to do so. He didn’t seem to be very impressed of my reasoning for walking away with the tools of his boss but when I handed him a blue Mandela note, his face lightened up considerably. Then more people appeared and I repeated myself a couple of times that my engine got flooded in the river.
The daughter told me that her dad died last year and she and her mum were not able to run the farm any longer. They were about to rent out the land to another farmer. Luckily they could spare a couple of liters of fuel which increased my chances to make it at least to Oasis.
Lili was sharing a few liters of her valuable fuel and I handed her my last notes to support her troubled household. After a chat with her and her daughter I decided to carry on. I must have thanked them a thousand times before I really took off.
It felt so good to be mobile again and I enjoyed every km of the ride. I always thought how long it would have taken me by foot to cover the distance.
Even from this side there was a cul-de-sac sign.
The Doring river was a lot deeper than what I would have expected for this time of the year.
I was smiling from ear to ear. The rest of the trip through Eselsbank was enjoyable as ever. Really nice riding around these roads. I went for a little visit to the waterfall. Usually I am time pressed when I ride here, but not so today. I did lose enough time already and was in no rush anymore. It’s a very nice spot to hang out for a day.
Nice roads everywhere.
Along the way I found the 24hr emergency road sign. I wonder how you could call that number without cellphone reception.
Then came the sign of Oasis and I was really looking forward to a couple of cold beers and the famous ribs.
The warm reception from Gerrit never felt more inviting to me. It felt like paradise to me, being able to walk to the fridge and grab a cold beer. I was admiring the view, the late sun and my bike in front of the stoep.
After the second beer I decided to call it a day and to rather sleep over at the Oasis than to rush home. A quick phone call to my wife and I was a free man for another day.
My place for the night.
After a couple of beers and a full portion of the legendary ribs, it was slowly starting to sink in what a great day I had. I drowned my beloved bike in a river and managed to get it going again. Met some nice people and had the privilege to ride the less frequented dirt roads of the Cederberg on my own.
It doesn’t get much better than this. Adventures can be found very close to home as it seems. I don’t have to go all the way to Namibia or other faraway places. The Cederberg delivered one more time.
Constantly looking at alternative routes along the way, I found a couple of promising tracks that I would like to explore on my next ride. The next time I will carry more tools and provision for at least two days, just in case.
