Purple Hooligan: A funny thing happened on the way to the farm...

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Ri

Grey Hound
WD Supporter
Joined
Jul 4, 2014
Messages
5,477
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984
Location
Somerset West
Bike
Suzuki DR650
It's 26 May and I'm on my way to visit my close family in the Northern Cape for a few days, on the Purple Hooligan. It’s my niece’s birthday party in the afternoon, and I hope to be there in good time. The distance from Stellenbosch to Fraserburg via the R356 is about 422 km and should take me about 8 hours, according to Google Maps. I haven’t ridden the R356 before, but I figure it’s a gravel highway, how bad can it be?

I shouldn’t have asked.

The plan is to leave home at 07:00, and true to form I pull away just before 08:00. I heeded the weather reports of maximum 15 degrees all over the Karoo, and I’m wearing a vest, long-sleeved T-shirt, short-sleeved T-shirt, down jacket and riding jacket with inner, thick skinny jeans, riding pants with inner, two pairs of socks, a polar fleece buff and knitted gloves inside my riding gloves. My fingers and toes are still cold but my body is toasty.

I swing through Stellenbosch onto the R44, turn towards Paarl and take the offramp to the alternative road over Du Toitskloof Pass, trying to get used to changing gears with the new MX boots.  I turn left over the highway, then right towards Du Toitskloof Pass, and pass a bevy of Beemers collecting on the corner. I nod and one waves as I pass by. I carry on at a sedate 80kph and soon they come zipping past me. At the top of the pass they turn off at a view point while I head onwards.

The Hex River Valley is covered in low misty fluffy clouds. It is beautiful but eery to ride in. I turn towards Rawsonville. The mist thickens and I ride slowly so as not to miss my turn-off to Slanghoek Valley.

A few kilometres outside Slanghoek the mist clears up but a sign warns that the road ahead is closed due to flooding. I pay it no mind - I can always turn back if I can’t get through. Sure enough, about a kilometre before the road T-junctions into the R43 towards Ceres, some drums block off the road and boards indicate that the low water bridge is flooded. A bakkie ahead of me slips through a widened space between two drums and I follow him. To my slight disappointment, the river no longer covers the low water bridge and we cross without incident. Ahead, low laying areas in the valley are covered in fluffy clouds. It is cold!

Hooligan happily climbs Mitchell’s Pass, and we reach Ceres where I stop to fill up and WhatsApp the family that I’m about to leave Ceres. The sun is in my eyes and I can’t find my sunglasses - quick stop at Clicks to buy a cheap pair, then I'm on my way again. 40km outside Ceres, the road becomes gravel, then tar, then gravel again and splits into the R355 to Calvinia 200km away, and the R356 to Sutherland 152km away, respectively. I turn right onto the R356, and open up.

The surface is rough with loose gravel, sand, ruts and mud from recent rains. Hooligan keeps unexpectedly weaving from side to side in a disconcerting way, and I’m not enjoying the ride much. I keep an eye on the road surface and count the kilometres. A thought pops into my head that I should deflate my tires a bit, but I’m unsure of how much to deflate the tires. Two bakkies pass me, traveling in the opposite direction towards Ceres, and then I’m the only movement on the road.

About 50km along the gravel road I crest a slight rise, eyeing an interesting mountain formation to the right, when suddenly the front starts weaving quite violently, a slow motion tank slapper. The next moment Hooligan and I are down and sliding on the ground in a wide arc. We grind to a stop, facing the direction we came. I’m still sitting/lying in the saddle.

Dazed, I notice the bike is still idling, and reach over and turn off the ignition, then sit/lie still for a long moment. I mentally check all my body parts; except for a burning ache in my left foot, still trapped on the foot peg under the bike, and a graze on my right hand, I miraculously seem unhurt. I close my eyes and thank my Lord, overwhelmed with gratitude and relief.

Then I look at the Hooligan. Something is missing, and it takes me a moment to realise there’s an emptiness where Hooligan’s right handlebar should be. I slowly get up and walk up the road, taking photo’s of the road and the bike, trying to organise my thoughts and evaluate my situation.

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Damage to riding gear

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Fuel alarmingly drips out from beneath the bike. I also notice that the tank’s breather pipe, newly purchased, has fallen off. My mind fixates on that, and I fine-comb the road looking for it, absurdly grateful when I find it about 2 metres from the fallen Hooligan. Pieces of Hooligan’s new windscreen lie strewn along the road, a big shard still fixed to the fairings. I can’t be bothered to take it off, and simply push it out the way.

My mind races over possible courses of action available to me. I shed a few layers of clothes, loosen the bags on top of the bike, and manage to lift up the Hooligan. I walk around him, looking for damage. He is no longer leaking fuel, and I guess it was just fuel draining from the carburettor. The gear lever is bent in and up, and its rubber cover is torn, but when I push it, it still moves fairly freely. I expect the left pannier bag, which must have born the brunt of the impact and slide, to be torn to pieces, but to my surprise it only has a neat rip from front to back, in the centre of the bottom of the bag.


The funny koppie that drew my eye before the fateful slide

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Twisty skid marks

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Bent gear lever

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Ripped pannier bag

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I turn my attention to the missing handlebar. It is a hollow, fat Renthal handlebar and it was on the bike when I bought it. The right side broke off cleanly next to the right mounting point, and I suspect it must have been cracked. It hangs loosely, attached only by the electrical cables which thankfully seem to have suffered no damage. I twist the throttle experimentally, and it moves easily. The vapour of an idea stirs in my mind.

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Looks like the broken handlebar took out the windscreen.

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My work cell phone was in my left upper pocket. The phone screen's protective cover had two new cracks, but the phone itself was fine, and its screen is still working normally. Later on I noticed that the phone had bent a bit.

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It seems I also bumped my head along the way, but it is also still working normally (OK yes this might be debatable)

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