- Joined
- Jan 24, 2006
- Messages
- 5,159
- Reaction score
- 345
- Location
- Brakpan, South Africa
- Bike
- BMW R1200GS HP2
He: “It takes balls to do something like that on your own”! She: “I personally think it takes a vagina to do that, cause a vagina can take a pounding”. Well with these wise words we were introduced and we immediately realized this is one tough and organized kookie, sy vaatikaki van kabouters en sy vat raak.
Crossing the Vaal just past Vredefort Dome
Well as per usual I am getting carried away, so let me start from the beginning of my story. We have skipped the National Bash for a few years due to various reasons, but decided this year to attent it again in force as it was around the corner and with the public holiday on the Thursday we could organize something cool. The regular speelgroepie are not all WD members so it was clear that we would be a few less. In the meantime Bobby Chang contacted me and asked if he and Alan could join and Welsh also enquired about him and Sharkie possibly joining in. We were going to be 6 bikes at most, so I had no problem with the numbers. Bobby Chang in the meantime tried to hook up HSK & Kie, but their travel is a bid swift for my liking, so I opted to do “our own thing”. It has also been a while since we have tackled the flat, open freestate dirt highways and I was keen to stretch the legs on Sweetness for a change.
Stopping for our braai – no charcoal
Dirt Highways
Our meeting point was Legends in Parys, but upon arrival we noticed the place was as closed as a dinky toys exhaust pipe. We moved to Wimpy and send a WhatsApp to all involved that we had moved the gathering point. The next moment a black 1150 pulled in with someone who vaguely resembled Welsh, but this person was half his weight, just the voice sounded the same. Amazing what can happen when you cut beer and starch out of your diet. Welsh, t’was good seeing you and having you ride along. Well Jean had a rough night before and was running late, so after we had finished our breakfast he was still at home so we hit the road without him. Our route took us past the Vredefort Dome and eventually to Bothaville. As it was National Braai day we opted to braai somewhere in an isolated riverbed, but guess what, the one carrying the charcoal was the farker who was late. We had a braaier, grid, blits, braai tongs, boerewors, rolls and sauce, but no charcoal. Finding wood proved fruitless so we soldiered on with eager taste buds. In Bothaville we filled up and as it was scorching hot so we looked for the nearest watering hole. Patman suggested the La Rochelle guesthouse, a place he frequents when he visits the Nampo ekspo, so we pulled in and was immediately made welcome by our gracious host Danie. In no time we had a cool one in hand, braaier brought in and the fire started. We had some wors, Bobby Chang had a pièce of steak and soon we were celebrating our heritage with a sumptuous meal. In the meantime Jean had managed to make his way to Klerksdorp, but we routed him to Bloemhof as we were going to spend the night there.
National Braai Day
Patman must take his afternoon nap, come hell or high water
From Bothaville we traveled just south of the park on what can only be described as a glorious dirt highway and by 5pm we were in our campsite in Bloemhof, looking out over the mighty Vaal river. Jean had eventually caught up with us so the numbers were complete. We had Coke, Ice, wood and meat, so what more was there than to have a splendid evening?
Excalibur sorting a puncture chop chop
By 10 o’clock most of us were ready to hit the sack although we had one or two vasbyters, who sat in the silence of the night watching the anglers down below and hoping to catch that big one. Strange species of the human kind – these anglers. Friday morning we rose to a beautiful sunrise and started packing after a warm shower and a cupa Java. Wimpy has not yet extended its network of stored to the bustling metropolis of Bloemhof so we decided to hit the ± 60 km dirt section to Christiana and have a brekkie there. The road on the eastern side of the Vaal was in a bad state and we had our teeth well and truly shaken to the bones. Guess what, Wimpy has also not reached the shores of Christiana, fortunately a local farmer – can tell from his shorts and kakies with shoes, pointed us to a establishment in town which were renowned for their hearty breakfast. At 08:10 I walked into the pub area and the first customer was already on his second beer, but the bar lady insisted that the kitchen only opens half 10, so what to do. It was too long to wait, so we decided to shoot through to Petrusburg and have a brekkie there. In the meantime Pat was checking out his Cajesus and noticed the hairline crack in his frame had now openend to a sizeable margin and was not looking good at all. He decided to take the black stuff via Kimberley so we agreed to meet in Petrusburg at the Petrusburg Hotel.
Camping in Bloemhof
Bobby Chang collecting his lost luggage
From Christiana we followed a pothole ridden tar road for approximately 15 km’s before it turned to gravel and in no time we were in Boshof. Earlier that day nothing happened and it was vigorously continuing. Jean filled up his HP while I checked out the town, a local was doing the braai thing on the pavement, so we were really tempted to grab a bite, but then we wouldn’t be hungry when we meet up with Pat in Petrusburg – catch 22. From Boshof to Petrusburg was the stretch of road i had been longing for the past few days – fast and flat, covered with that fine gravel and smoother than the black stuff, and we saw some big tortoises – always a lucky charm.
Justin Bieber
Last year during the GP Trophy event we also ended up in the Petrusburg hotel and was served by Miss World and her runner up princes, so it was with high hoped that we dismounted our steeds and entered the hotel. Life on the flatlands is kind to no man and Miss World has deteriorated into a nosy old fart who smoked like a chimney, but al least she was friendly. Within an hour all the Richelieu in the pub was finished so Kobus who was the proprietor of this establishment had to bring some reserves. Hê also confirmed that Miss World and her princess had moved on to greened pastures. Pat arrived a while later and while we were having a few more sharpies a local farmer and Kobus tied a moerofa pièce of bloudraad around the frame to prevent the crack from opening any wider. Pat was adamant he was sticking to the black stuff despite our best efforts so after our meal we headed off towards Fauresmith while Pat ventured to Bloem and Gariep via the boring N1.
Somewhere between Boshof and Petrusburg
Fauresmith was only good enough for Jean to fill up the HP before we headed to Philippolis. Our plan was to have something cool, buy some meat and then head for River Destiny. The local pub had such a lovely vibe, we almost overstayed our welcome. Phillip who is the owner of this joint was being the perfect host and we kuiered till it was past 4pm before the responsible one amongst us ushered us to our bikes to make our way further south. We had our meat, sommer bought over the bar counter and to say we were slightly tipsy was putting it mildly. Fortunately the road was very windy with lots of gates to open and close, so after we each had our fourth turn to stop, open gate, let all pass and continue, we were ready for Norvalspont and all it had to offer.
Bobby Chang and his trusty steed
A quick coke and ice stop in Gariep saw us pulling into River Destiny around 5:30 pm. While pitching our tents I saw this vivacious blond strolling by and sort of recognized her as Twe Twe. She pulled in and we all started to chat when eventually we ended up talking about Schalk and his sole RTW trip. Someone made the comment that one needs balls to tackle something like that on your own to which she solemnly replied that you would need a vagina, cause a vagina can take a pounding. Right there I decided I like this girl, no frill, no spills just a genuine person.
Groupie
Friday Night Sheenanagans
The rest of the night we kuiered around the boma, while elsewhere on the premises several other parties were also happening. Only the next morning did we discover the bar, the riverside restaurant, pool area and other amenities. Saturday we planned to head into town and have a Karoo lamb rib at the Horse and Mill before we head back to chill with fellow dogs.
Early Sat morning
Breakfast is served
Handing out t-shirts
Other celebs
Not seen that often anymore
However we reached the shores of the Norvalspont Hotel and here our wheels came off yet again. The place was packed with WD’s and the odd visitor was made at home almost immediately. I had a good chuckle at one of the Kirkwood guys trying to convince a visitor who pulled in with his chickybom, that his girl was most welcome at the bash site while he would have to wait outside the premises. This continued for quite a while till this oke realized he was going to loose his missus to this argument and dragged her away. Very amusing conversation.
Norvalpont Hotel – Patman was not going to miss his midday nap
That afternoon we headed back to River Destiny after a quick bite and kuiered the rest of the day with old dogs whom we have not seen since a previous bash. What a lekker experience to sit and chat with like minded people, some whom have done a trip or two with me, while others just shared in the stories. Late afternoon it was time for the rugby so most dogs headed for the dining room, but as someone who enjoys watching my rugby in silence, I was out of there before the ref blew his whistle for the first time. Outside were several dogs neither interested in the rugby nor completely sober, so we chilled and chatted and listened to the roars and cheers when presumably the Boks were scoring. After the game it was chowtime, so we lined up and was served one of the best spitbraais I have had for a long time.
The lean green cleaning machine
The night was rounded of by a few more sharpies and Welsh being ecstatic as Wales fumbled the Pommies into submission – something that made him very thirsty. Sunday we had a long haul back to Gauteng and as is customary in the Freestate, we wanted to get as far as possible before the wind picked up. Well we almost made it to Smithfield South, after leaving at 6am, before the wind started. This was going to be the benchmark for the rest of the day. Pat’s Cajesus also played a few tricks and refused to past 100km/h so it was not a pleasant experience to say the least. Well we all made it home safely, still in time to watch the MotoGP so all’s well that ends well.
Welsh at full tilt
Thanks to all involved in the organization of the event. It was one moerofa success I recon and I will certainly make a concerted effort to attend the next one. :thumleft:
Crossing the Vaal just past Vredefort Dome
Well as per usual I am getting carried away, so let me start from the beginning of my story. We have skipped the National Bash for a few years due to various reasons, but decided this year to attent it again in force as it was around the corner and with the public holiday on the Thursday we could organize something cool. The regular speelgroepie are not all WD members so it was clear that we would be a few less. In the meantime Bobby Chang contacted me and asked if he and Alan could join and Welsh also enquired about him and Sharkie possibly joining in. We were going to be 6 bikes at most, so I had no problem with the numbers. Bobby Chang in the meantime tried to hook up HSK & Kie, but their travel is a bid swift for my liking, so I opted to do “our own thing”. It has also been a while since we have tackled the flat, open freestate dirt highways and I was keen to stretch the legs on Sweetness for a change.
Stopping for our braai – no charcoal
Dirt Highways
Our meeting point was Legends in Parys, but upon arrival we noticed the place was as closed as a dinky toys exhaust pipe. We moved to Wimpy and send a WhatsApp to all involved that we had moved the gathering point. The next moment a black 1150 pulled in with someone who vaguely resembled Welsh, but this person was half his weight, just the voice sounded the same. Amazing what can happen when you cut beer and starch out of your diet. Welsh, t’was good seeing you and having you ride along. Well Jean had a rough night before and was running late, so after we had finished our breakfast he was still at home so we hit the road without him. Our route took us past the Vredefort Dome and eventually to Bothaville. As it was National Braai day we opted to braai somewhere in an isolated riverbed, but guess what, the one carrying the charcoal was the farker who was late. We had a braaier, grid, blits, braai tongs, boerewors, rolls and sauce, but no charcoal. Finding wood proved fruitless so we soldiered on with eager taste buds. In Bothaville we filled up and as it was scorching hot so we looked for the nearest watering hole. Patman suggested the La Rochelle guesthouse, a place he frequents when he visits the Nampo ekspo, so we pulled in and was immediately made welcome by our gracious host Danie. In no time we had a cool one in hand, braaier brought in and the fire started. We had some wors, Bobby Chang had a pièce of steak and soon we were celebrating our heritage with a sumptuous meal. In the meantime Jean had managed to make his way to Klerksdorp, but we routed him to Bloemhof as we were going to spend the night there.
National Braai Day
Patman must take his afternoon nap, come hell or high water
From Bothaville we traveled just south of the park on what can only be described as a glorious dirt highway and by 5pm we were in our campsite in Bloemhof, looking out over the mighty Vaal river. Jean had eventually caught up with us so the numbers were complete. We had Coke, Ice, wood and meat, so what more was there than to have a splendid evening?
Excalibur sorting a puncture chop chop
By 10 o’clock most of us were ready to hit the sack although we had one or two vasbyters, who sat in the silence of the night watching the anglers down below and hoping to catch that big one. Strange species of the human kind – these anglers. Friday morning we rose to a beautiful sunrise and started packing after a warm shower and a cupa Java. Wimpy has not yet extended its network of stored to the bustling metropolis of Bloemhof so we decided to hit the ± 60 km dirt section to Christiana and have a brekkie there. The road on the eastern side of the Vaal was in a bad state and we had our teeth well and truly shaken to the bones. Guess what, Wimpy has also not reached the shores of Christiana, fortunately a local farmer – can tell from his shorts and kakies with shoes, pointed us to a establishment in town which were renowned for their hearty breakfast. At 08:10 I walked into the pub area and the first customer was already on his second beer, but the bar lady insisted that the kitchen only opens half 10, so what to do. It was too long to wait, so we decided to shoot through to Petrusburg and have a brekkie there. In the meantime Pat was checking out his Cajesus and noticed the hairline crack in his frame had now openend to a sizeable margin and was not looking good at all. He decided to take the black stuff via Kimberley so we agreed to meet in Petrusburg at the Petrusburg Hotel.
Camping in Bloemhof
Bobby Chang collecting his lost luggage
From Christiana we followed a pothole ridden tar road for approximately 15 km’s before it turned to gravel and in no time we were in Boshof. Earlier that day nothing happened and it was vigorously continuing. Jean filled up his HP while I checked out the town, a local was doing the braai thing on the pavement, so we were really tempted to grab a bite, but then we wouldn’t be hungry when we meet up with Pat in Petrusburg – catch 22. From Boshof to Petrusburg was the stretch of road i had been longing for the past few days – fast and flat, covered with that fine gravel and smoother than the black stuff, and we saw some big tortoises – always a lucky charm.
Justin Bieber
Last year during the GP Trophy event we also ended up in the Petrusburg hotel and was served by Miss World and her runner up princes, so it was with high hoped that we dismounted our steeds and entered the hotel. Life on the flatlands is kind to no man and Miss World has deteriorated into a nosy old fart who smoked like a chimney, but al least she was friendly. Within an hour all the Richelieu in the pub was finished so Kobus who was the proprietor of this establishment had to bring some reserves. Hê also confirmed that Miss World and her princess had moved on to greened pastures. Pat arrived a while later and while we were having a few more sharpies a local farmer and Kobus tied a moerofa pièce of bloudraad around the frame to prevent the crack from opening any wider. Pat was adamant he was sticking to the black stuff despite our best efforts so after our meal we headed off towards Fauresmith while Pat ventured to Bloem and Gariep via the boring N1.
Somewhere between Boshof and Petrusburg
Fauresmith was only good enough for Jean to fill up the HP before we headed to Philippolis. Our plan was to have something cool, buy some meat and then head for River Destiny. The local pub had such a lovely vibe, we almost overstayed our welcome. Phillip who is the owner of this joint was being the perfect host and we kuiered till it was past 4pm before the responsible one amongst us ushered us to our bikes to make our way further south. We had our meat, sommer bought over the bar counter and to say we were slightly tipsy was putting it mildly. Fortunately the road was very windy with lots of gates to open and close, so after we each had our fourth turn to stop, open gate, let all pass and continue, we were ready for Norvalspont and all it had to offer.
Bobby Chang and his trusty steed
A quick coke and ice stop in Gariep saw us pulling into River Destiny around 5:30 pm. While pitching our tents I saw this vivacious blond strolling by and sort of recognized her as Twe Twe. She pulled in and we all started to chat when eventually we ended up talking about Schalk and his sole RTW trip. Someone made the comment that one needs balls to tackle something like that on your own to which she solemnly replied that you would need a vagina, cause a vagina can take a pounding. Right there I decided I like this girl, no frill, no spills just a genuine person.
Groupie
Friday Night Sheenanagans
The rest of the night we kuiered around the boma, while elsewhere on the premises several other parties were also happening. Only the next morning did we discover the bar, the riverside restaurant, pool area and other amenities. Saturday we planned to head into town and have a Karoo lamb rib at the Horse and Mill before we head back to chill with fellow dogs.
Early Sat morning
Breakfast is served
Handing out t-shirts
Other celebs
Not seen that often anymore
However we reached the shores of the Norvalspont Hotel and here our wheels came off yet again. The place was packed with WD’s and the odd visitor was made at home almost immediately. I had a good chuckle at one of the Kirkwood guys trying to convince a visitor who pulled in with his chickybom, that his girl was most welcome at the bash site while he would have to wait outside the premises. This continued for quite a while till this oke realized he was going to loose his missus to this argument and dragged her away. Very amusing conversation.
Norvalpont Hotel – Patman was not going to miss his midday nap
That afternoon we headed back to River Destiny after a quick bite and kuiered the rest of the day with old dogs whom we have not seen since a previous bash. What a lekker experience to sit and chat with like minded people, some whom have done a trip or two with me, while others just shared in the stories. Late afternoon it was time for the rugby so most dogs headed for the dining room, but as someone who enjoys watching my rugby in silence, I was out of there before the ref blew his whistle for the first time. Outside were several dogs neither interested in the rugby nor completely sober, so we chilled and chatted and listened to the roars and cheers when presumably the Boks were scoring. After the game it was chowtime, so we lined up and was served one of the best spitbraais I have had for a long time.
The lean green cleaning machine
The night was rounded of by a few more sharpies and Welsh being ecstatic as Wales fumbled the Pommies into submission – something that made him very thirsty. Sunday we had a long haul back to Gauteng and as is customary in the Freestate, we wanted to get as far as possible before the wind picked up. Well we almost made it to Smithfield South, after leaving at 6am, before the wind started. This was going to be the benchmark for the rest of the day. Pat’s Cajesus also played a few tricks and refused to past 100km/h so it was not a pleasant experience to say the least. Well we all made it home safely, still in time to watch the MotoGP so all’s well that ends well.
Welsh at full tilt
Thanks to all involved in the organization of the event. It was one moerofa success I recon and I will certainly make a concerted effort to attend the next one. :thumleft:
