Day 4 - Katze to Mohale Dam lodge (continued)Once through the river I expected the track to open up but it is not to be. Not only that but it leads us to yet another river crossing. And this one looks more challenging than the previous one. If this trend continues I am not sure where this will all end up. Studying the GPS shows we still have to cross the river several times. But, one never knows, as the rivers are not plotted with great accuracy. Logic dictates that we should first walk this one. And since we already have wet boots from the previous one JAmBer gets ready to go in. At that moment Shoe appears. He points across the river at a somewhat endless hill and makes it clear we need to go over the top once we have crossed the river. This is easier said than done on many levels.
After his little scouting in the river JAmBer puts his boots back on and gets on the bike. I know about river crossings so I get the camera ready. Shoe points and gesticulates as JAmBer eases the bike into the river. First bit seems simple and not too deep. Then the bike seems to hook behind a rock and the little bit extra gas to get it loose also sees JAmBer disappear under the water.
Shoe immediately walks into the river to help JAmBer to lift his bike. As expected the engine has died and the situation seems to have stabilised. I put my stuff down and wade in. I grab the front wheel and Shoe takes up position at the back. We slowly rotate the wheels while JAmBer struggles to keep the bike upright. After getting the 450 through we get my 500 and repeat the process, but without the drowning part, of walking the bike through the river.
Once on the other side JAmBer starts spannering and soon thereafter the bike comes back to life. Not exactly running smoothly but after a few coughs and farts it settles down to a steady idle.
I am not keen at all to go back into the river again and ride up the hill. This hill is beyond my skill level and I only get to the ⅓ way point. I walk the rest but can see there is no way I can get the bike up there. Several kids have gathered and keep pointing to the top. The oldest one looks at me, points at her friends and says: “Father, we push”. Sweet thought, but most of them are not quite as tall as the bike so it does not seems to be much of an option.
Back down to the river we go but no amount of wishful thinking changes the fact that a few 100 metres further the path stops and the rock face goes straight into the river. JAmBer wades back into the river. This first bit is deeper and flows faster than where he just drowned the bike. But he is keen and suggest we push the bike back to the other side to continue. I walk in, take a few steps and get pushed over by the current. It seems like madness to me to try this again, so late in the day (it is now 5 PM) and while we are tired.
I use the universal language of two hands against the side of the face and ask the kids if the Chief will let us sleep on top where the huts are. “Yes Father, he will”. We go back to the max rideable point and distribute all our gear to the kids. Next moment we walk up the hill following our train of excited pint sized porters.
Once we get to Chief Motebang it is clear that he does not receive a lot of adventure bikers here. But he understands our predicament and seems to be okay with two unexpected guests. JAmBer travels ultralight and only has a dry jacket inner. I am older and wiser and have some dry thermals and pants. As the sun sets Chief Motebang’s blind dog and a big pig come closer and sit expectantly next to a big bowl. When his wife empties a bucket of milk into it for their supper it is a picture of rural bliss.
Topic: Lesotho - A river too deep, a mountain too high (Read 2581 times)
