tkolsa
Pack Dog
I managed to rustle up four others to join me on the trip. (Lance and Donovan from Durban area, Ernst and Mia from Kempton Park)
We met at the Sani Lodge Backpackers around 08h20, got dressed in our bike kit, bags on backs and started up the bikes.
The assortment of metal was: BMW 1200GS, KTM 250 MX, two Zooka 125 pitbikes, one Terra-Moto 125 pitbike.
Around 08h45 we made our way along the first few kilometres and I was wondering if people’s accounts of the poor road condition would be true. Well as it turned out it wasn’t much different to my first encounter up Sani in May 2008.
We were informed by the guys working at the Sani Top Chalet that the road had been improved in recent weeks as it had been barely driveable for vehicles after the rainy season.
We noticed a yellow grader parked on the way up so presume it has been very busy sorting out sections of the pass.
The only bit of excitement initially was that Donovan had left his passport behind in the vehicle, so had to make a u-turn and plan to meet us at the SA border post.
We presumed we would get there first and have time for a little breather.
Well the KTM was back alongside us in next to no time, and judging by the slightly flushed look on the rider’s face I certainly believed him that he had gone flat out there and back.
Something I did on my Terra-Moto pitbike was to add my mountain bikes odometer unit (strapped down and improvised) so that I would know my speed and distance etc.
I frequently managed to get to 50 – 60 km/h on the first stretch, with me slowing down a lot after the SA border post. (20 – 40 km/h)
Along the way there were a no of foreigners as part of organised tours in 4x4 vehicles; some of which stared and others took pics. They mostly spoke German and French and were commenting on the bikes we were on, especially the pitbikes.
As I have learnt this route is mostly frequented by tourists, there were very few locals or South Africans to speak of along the route or anywhere on our trip.
As was expected once we left the SA border post the bigger bikes took off and were way ahead of us. It is somewhat like riding across a very large Simba chip on a smaller bike, the knocks and bumps never stop and it is not always possible to go where one aims.
We stopped along the way up and took pics, took in the view and confirmed that these are the sights so few of us in this country get to see – or should we say make the time and effort to get out.
Fortunately the weather was reasonably good during the morning and we had good views all the way up.
There were a few coughs and splutters from at least two of the pitbikes as we climbed higher towards the last stretch of the pass.
I must qualify that by saying that Mia was in fact learning how to ride a motorbike on this trip.
This was her third time riding a motorbike, something which she only recently attempted.
Well I reckon that is some achievement; who would have thought of going up the pass as part of a training ride ?
I have seen many other people in my lifetime unable to ride a bicycle on a straight level section, never mind a motorbike on rather harsh territory on an incline with loose rocks and sand most of the way.
It turned out that on some sections I could not catch up to the lady rider, but would I admit it openly – of course not. I had to spin a story or two to be convincing (well to myself anyway).
The five of us made it to the Lesotho border post in just under two hours; this being 30 minutes faster than my first attempt in 2008 when there was only two of us.
A number of tourists were ahead of us getting checked in, so there was no rush for us to get through. During this time Lance decided to take some pictures of the area including the buildings nearby (official border control shabby building being one of them).
Just a few seconds later there was some desperate screaming and shouting coming from one of the Lesotho officials, whom was about 100 metres away.
None of us knew what he was actually carrying on about, but we eventually could make out that he was shouting “no photo”. After the camera was put away the noise ceased.
We later asked at the pub nearby what exactly they are so excited about when taking photos nearby. Apparently it has to do with some government talks involving Zimbabwe, although I suspected it had to do with recent reports of attempted attacks on the head of state of Lesotho.
(I have since found out that there is a law against photographing any govenrment installation in Lesotho - hell, how do they expect anyone to know that - especially as there is no signage at all. Such a prehistoric approach, whom would actually have any interest in that basic buidling for any sane reason whatsoever ?)
To be honest we really thought it was a huge joke that they could object to anyone taking photos; even though their buildings look shabby surely they can do with all the exposure and tourism possible without annoying anyone whom actually bothered to make a trip there.
I am pretty sure the foreign tourists ahead of us (about thirty of them) were equally unimpressed by the vocal display they were subjected to.
Fortunately the officials whom stamped our passports and wrote out receipts for the four Rand entrance (visa) were a lot friendlier and made quick work of getting us through.
We decided to make a pit stop at the Sani Top Chalet pub for a stretch and of course a drink.
The local Maluthi beer was quite nice and refreshing; with the cosy pub adding some atmosphere.
At this stage the weather had started to turn and was distinctly looking miserable towards Lesotho. Dark clouds were blowing in and I could tell there was rain on the way.
It wasn’t long before the raindrops started arriving and after some discussion we decided we better make our way along to Black Mountain. We knew that was about 12 kilometres away and had no idea what the road conditions were like, never mind that we may get caught in a heavy rainstorm all the way back and down the pass back into South Africa.
Ernst and Mia decided not to join us and instead to make their way back down the pass on their pitbikes incase there was really bad weather. It was a pity as it made it much more worthwhile to go the extra distance into Lesotho.
I decided to brave it on my pitbike and also left my raincoat in my bag on my back; I decided there wasn’t time to waste and be left behind by the other two bigger bikes.
I had forgotten the feeling of rather cold raindrops pelting ones face while riding with an off-road helmet; this feeling I last recall when riding a 50cc bike during my school days in Johannesburg.
It felt a bit like pins and needles had set in on my face and neck, but I could not really stop.
I also had plastic tear offs on my goggles, which turned out to be a real pain as the rain had got in-between the layers and I could no longer see clearly.
All I could see was a smudged view ahead of me and lost the detail up close, so I was actually taking chances as I was riding with poor vision all the way to Black Mountain.
Fortunately the road condition was a lot better than the pass itself; I did however encounter numerous potholes and rocks unplanned as a result of my poor vision.
It probably took around 30 minutes to get to the area referred to as Black Mountain.
Unfortunately due to the bad weather there was not much of a view to take in and I battled to see any spectacular view that I was hoping to spot.
The terrain up there is really harsh, it reminded me of what another planet could be like with mostly large rocks, little vegetation and freezing cold wind blowing. (Mars perhaps ?)
Luckily the rain had subsided and we were able to take a break without hiding from the rain; the wind we could not hide from as there was no form of shelter.
It turned out that the real fun had started as Donovan discovered his KTM had a rear puncture.
Lovely, at the furtherest possible place from home here we are having to do bike repairs out in the cold miserable weather.
Fortunately Lance had brought along the necessary puncture repair kit and soon the bike was back in action – at least we hoped so.
I had left my extra repair kit behind as I already had too much in my bag, and I wasn’t going to ditch my two beers and coldrink when I initially departed.
I have to admit I started to feel just a bit nervous at the thought of us being stranded with another punctured bike. As long as we could make it back to the Lesotho border we would be in a position to make other plans if need be.
Admittedly we were only around 12 kilometres away from there, but there were a maximum of two cars and four bikes encountered in all the time we spent inside Lesotho (around one and a half hours).
While we were getting ready to leave two young locals came galloping up towards us on a horseback (no saddles), with their customary blanket wrapped around them.
They only spoke in their local language so we could not make out what they were trying to say to us.
I presumed they had spotted us stopped off there and decided it was time to rush over for a freebie of some sort.
After a few pics were taken with them a few Rand was handed over; this made them smile broadly and it looked like their task was complete.
One of the other bikers I bumped into at this spot was CliveG, from this forum.
We had been in contact a few times via email and once met briefly at the Westmead riding area where all the off-road bikes go on weekends.
It certainly looked a lot easier riding a bigger bike out in this part of Africa; a thought confirmed by my fellow riders with me.
On the way back Donovan got to ride Lance’s BMW 1200GS, which he claimed was an absolute pleasure. It was something like going from an old mini to a BMW motorcar and finding out how smooth it rides with no effort.
I could tell it was easy as the BMW came speeding past me over uneven terrain without a twitch.
I decided to remove my goggle tear offs and wipe my goggles this time; don’t know what I was thinking earlier as now I could in fact see where I was going without any guesswork and luck on my side.
We had a bit more rain on the way back to Sani Top Chalet; it seemed as if the rain clouds had decided to congregate at the top of the pass.
Not knowing what we were in for we decided it was time to retreat to the pub and have a break … and perhaps the odd drink too.
It was nice and cosy inside the pub with it’s fireplace; I wasn’t sure we were going to muster up the courage to depart either as by now the rain had come down heavily and certainly looked like it was not going away anytime soon.
We noticed that the thermometer inside the pub had readings for internal and external temperature. It was 11 degrees C inside and a whopping 5 degrees C outside.
Now more than ever I was wondering how we were going to make the trip back down in the freezing cold rain.
When the rain eased off we chatted, got geared up and started our descent.
I estimate that once on the bike and riding it must have been a few degrees cooler than the thermometer was reading; it certainly felt like it.
We did the obligatory passport control stamping and carefully tackled the now slippery muddy road from the top of Sani Pass.
We were literally only two or three bends away from the top when the KTM let Donovan know who was boss.
He stopped to inspect a rather odd noise he was hearing; which turned out to be the rear axle coming loose and making it’s way out of the swing arm.
The tension adjustment on one side was gone and the nuts on the axle were split; so it was a free axle.
At this stage I decided to put my raincoat jacket on as we didn’t know how long we would be stopped there.
After various suggestions on how to try and remedy this little mishap, it was decided to use cable ties to try and secure the axle on both sides just to prevent it slipping out.
After all, whom keeps these spares handy just incase it should be needed one day.
Well it turned out that it was enough to keep the bike together and make it all the way down back to our accommodation.
Donovan decided to freewheel his bike (engine off) down as far as he could and to then get towed by the BMW.
I did of course add that I would need to have a picture taken of this, as I had never actually seen a bike being towed by another bike.
Needless to say that was enough to convince Donovan to get as far away from me as possible.
He managed to freewheel all the way down to the SA border post with only two sections where he had to push a bit and then hop back on the bike.
I could not catch up with him, and my fuel had run low so my bike was cutting out.
I eventually stopped and switched over to reserve hoping I could now catch up and enjoy the ride down.
Soon after this my pitbike bike decided to start idling at almost full throttle. So there I was hoping to coast down the pass in low gear; but now I was having to apply the brakes and pull the clutch in often as I was racing downhill – certainly not as planned.
I recall being a lot braver going down, but also did not want to let the other riders think I had broken down or turn back for me.
With the axle incident at the top of the pass I wasn’t sure how we would make it to the SA border post in time, but our luck was on track as we easily made it there at around 17h00.
I worked out that we made our complete trip back down to our accommodation in around 1 hour 30 minutes.
I had done this second trip to Sani Pass on a pitbike not only because it is the only bike I have, but also to prove I guess that the first visit was not just pot luck.
I had been told previously that there is no way such a small bike can make it; but if one thinks about it logically as long as the engine runs why not ?
I am strongly considering getting a bigger bike for a trip through Lesotho and also to tackle the Quads-4-Quads ride sometime (Jhb to Dbn on dirt roads).
I am on a limited budget; no money to spend on bikes but starting to have a look anyway.
May end up looking at getting a used Honda CRF 230 with road kit; it is a simple enough bike that is affordable for us “other fellas”.
I really enjoyed my return trip to Lesotho via Sani Pass; my fellow riders also had a great outing. I do think I have now outgrown doing it on a small bike.
We gathered for a few drinks and reflected on the trip and the few little challenges we had along the way; the weather being the one I thought would be the only one !
I almost forgot to add some trivia.
Total distance covered : 73 km as per BMW bike (was reading 67 km, on my mountain bike odometer attached).
Fuel used : my pitbike used just under 3 litres of unleaded petrol, had about one cup left when I got back.
That equates to : 4.1 l/100km, or 24.3 km/l (around R21 in fuel).
If one adds up all the costs it is very cheap for an outing (R90 accomodation, R21 fuel, R4 Lesotho entry, meals/drinks R150) as compared to an organised tour of Sani Pass on a 4x4 vehicle (R500+ trip only, with perhaps a light snack thrown in)
Happy biking.
Tibor.
Note:
I have placed pics to view on photobucket.com
Just let me know if you want any of them emailed in high resolution.
https://s559.photobucket.com/albums/ss37/tkolsa/?
We met at the Sani Lodge Backpackers around 08h20, got dressed in our bike kit, bags on backs and started up the bikes.
The assortment of metal was: BMW 1200GS, KTM 250 MX, two Zooka 125 pitbikes, one Terra-Moto 125 pitbike.
Around 08h45 we made our way along the first few kilometres and I was wondering if people’s accounts of the poor road condition would be true. Well as it turned out it wasn’t much different to my first encounter up Sani in May 2008.
We were informed by the guys working at the Sani Top Chalet that the road had been improved in recent weeks as it had been barely driveable for vehicles after the rainy season.
We noticed a yellow grader parked on the way up so presume it has been very busy sorting out sections of the pass.
The only bit of excitement initially was that Donovan had left his passport behind in the vehicle, so had to make a u-turn and plan to meet us at the SA border post.
We presumed we would get there first and have time for a little breather.
Well the KTM was back alongside us in next to no time, and judging by the slightly flushed look on the rider’s face I certainly believed him that he had gone flat out there and back.
Something I did on my Terra-Moto pitbike was to add my mountain bikes odometer unit (strapped down and improvised) so that I would know my speed and distance etc.
I frequently managed to get to 50 – 60 km/h on the first stretch, with me slowing down a lot after the SA border post. (20 – 40 km/h)
Along the way there were a no of foreigners as part of organised tours in 4x4 vehicles; some of which stared and others took pics. They mostly spoke German and French and were commenting on the bikes we were on, especially the pitbikes.
As I have learnt this route is mostly frequented by tourists, there were very few locals or South Africans to speak of along the route or anywhere on our trip.
As was expected once we left the SA border post the bigger bikes took off and were way ahead of us. It is somewhat like riding across a very large Simba chip on a smaller bike, the knocks and bumps never stop and it is not always possible to go where one aims.
We stopped along the way up and took pics, took in the view and confirmed that these are the sights so few of us in this country get to see – or should we say make the time and effort to get out.
Fortunately the weather was reasonably good during the morning and we had good views all the way up.
There were a few coughs and splutters from at least two of the pitbikes as we climbed higher towards the last stretch of the pass.
I must qualify that by saying that Mia was in fact learning how to ride a motorbike on this trip.
This was her third time riding a motorbike, something which she only recently attempted.
Well I reckon that is some achievement; who would have thought of going up the pass as part of a training ride ?
I have seen many other people in my lifetime unable to ride a bicycle on a straight level section, never mind a motorbike on rather harsh territory on an incline with loose rocks and sand most of the way.
It turned out that on some sections I could not catch up to the lady rider, but would I admit it openly – of course not. I had to spin a story or two to be convincing (well to myself anyway).
The five of us made it to the Lesotho border post in just under two hours; this being 30 minutes faster than my first attempt in 2008 when there was only two of us.
A number of tourists were ahead of us getting checked in, so there was no rush for us to get through. During this time Lance decided to take some pictures of the area including the buildings nearby (official border control shabby building being one of them).
Just a few seconds later there was some desperate screaming and shouting coming from one of the Lesotho officials, whom was about 100 metres away.
None of us knew what he was actually carrying on about, but we eventually could make out that he was shouting “no photo”. After the camera was put away the noise ceased.
We later asked at the pub nearby what exactly they are so excited about when taking photos nearby. Apparently it has to do with some government talks involving Zimbabwe, although I suspected it had to do with recent reports of attempted attacks on the head of state of Lesotho.
(I have since found out that there is a law against photographing any govenrment installation in Lesotho - hell, how do they expect anyone to know that - especially as there is no signage at all. Such a prehistoric approach, whom would actually have any interest in that basic buidling for any sane reason whatsoever ?)
To be honest we really thought it was a huge joke that they could object to anyone taking photos; even though their buildings look shabby surely they can do with all the exposure and tourism possible without annoying anyone whom actually bothered to make a trip there.
I am pretty sure the foreign tourists ahead of us (about thirty of them) were equally unimpressed by the vocal display they were subjected to.
Fortunately the officials whom stamped our passports and wrote out receipts for the four Rand entrance (visa) were a lot friendlier and made quick work of getting us through.
We decided to make a pit stop at the Sani Top Chalet pub for a stretch and of course a drink.
The local Maluthi beer was quite nice and refreshing; with the cosy pub adding some atmosphere.
At this stage the weather had started to turn and was distinctly looking miserable towards Lesotho. Dark clouds were blowing in and I could tell there was rain on the way.
It wasn’t long before the raindrops started arriving and after some discussion we decided we better make our way along to Black Mountain. We knew that was about 12 kilometres away and had no idea what the road conditions were like, never mind that we may get caught in a heavy rainstorm all the way back and down the pass back into South Africa.
Ernst and Mia decided not to join us and instead to make their way back down the pass on their pitbikes incase there was really bad weather. It was a pity as it made it much more worthwhile to go the extra distance into Lesotho.
I decided to brave it on my pitbike and also left my raincoat in my bag on my back; I decided there wasn’t time to waste and be left behind by the other two bigger bikes.
I had forgotten the feeling of rather cold raindrops pelting ones face while riding with an off-road helmet; this feeling I last recall when riding a 50cc bike during my school days in Johannesburg.
It felt a bit like pins and needles had set in on my face and neck, but I could not really stop.
I also had plastic tear offs on my goggles, which turned out to be a real pain as the rain had got in-between the layers and I could no longer see clearly.
All I could see was a smudged view ahead of me and lost the detail up close, so I was actually taking chances as I was riding with poor vision all the way to Black Mountain.
Fortunately the road condition was a lot better than the pass itself; I did however encounter numerous potholes and rocks unplanned as a result of my poor vision.
It probably took around 30 minutes to get to the area referred to as Black Mountain.
Unfortunately due to the bad weather there was not much of a view to take in and I battled to see any spectacular view that I was hoping to spot.
The terrain up there is really harsh, it reminded me of what another planet could be like with mostly large rocks, little vegetation and freezing cold wind blowing. (Mars perhaps ?)
Luckily the rain had subsided and we were able to take a break without hiding from the rain; the wind we could not hide from as there was no form of shelter.
It turned out that the real fun had started as Donovan discovered his KTM had a rear puncture.
Lovely, at the furtherest possible place from home here we are having to do bike repairs out in the cold miserable weather.
Fortunately Lance had brought along the necessary puncture repair kit and soon the bike was back in action – at least we hoped so.
I had left my extra repair kit behind as I already had too much in my bag, and I wasn’t going to ditch my two beers and coldrink when I initially departed.
I have to admit I started to feel just a bit nervous at the thought of us being stranded with another punctured bike. As long as we could make it back to the Lesotho border we would be in a position to make other plans if need be.
Admittedly we were only around 12 kilometres away from there, but there were a maximum of two cars and four bikes encountered in all the time we spent inside Lesotho (around one and a half hours).
While we were getting ready to leave two young locals came galloping up towards us on a horseback (no saddles), with their customary blanket wrapped around them.
They only spoke in their local language so we could not make out what they were trying to say to us.
I presumed they had spotted us stopped off there and decided it was time to rush over for a freebie of some sort.
After a few pics were taken with them a few Rand was handed over; this made them smile broadly and it looked like their task was complete.
One of the other bikers I bumped into at this spot was CliveG, from this forum.
We had been in contact a few times via email and once met briefly at the Westmead riding area where all the off-road bikes go on weekends.
It certainly looked a lot easier riding a bigger bike out in this part of Africa; a thought confirmed by my fellow riders with me.
On the way back Donovan got to ride Lance’s BMW 1200GS, which he claimed was an absolute pleasure. It was something like going from an old mini to a BMW motorcar and finding out how smooth it rides with no effort.
I could tell it was easy as the BMW came speeding past me over uneven terrain without a twitch.
I decided to remove my goggle tear offs and wipe my goggles this time; don’t know what I was thinking earlier as now I could in fact see where I was going without any guesswork and luck on my side.
We had a bit more rain on the way back to Sani Top Chalet; it seemed as if the rain clouds had decided to congregate at the top of the pass.
Not knowing what we were in for we decided it was time to retreat to the pub and have a break … and perhaps the odd drink too.
It was nice and cosy inside the pub with it’s fireplace; I wasn’t sure we were going to muster up the courage to depart either as by now the rain had come down heavily and certainly looked like it was not going away anytime soon.
We noticed that the thermometer inside the pub had readings for internal and external temperature. It was 11 degrees C inside and a whopping 5 degrees C outside.
Now more than ever I was wondering how we were going to make the trip back down in the freezing cold rain.
When the rain eased off we chatted, got geared up and started our descent.
I estimate that once on the bike and riding it must have been a few degrees cooler than the thermometer was reading; it certainly felt like it.
We did the obligatory passport control stamping and carefully tackled the now slippery muddy road from the top of Sani Pass.
We were literally only two or three bends away from the top when the KTM let Donovan know who was boss.
He stopped to inspect a rather odd noise he was hearing; which turned out to be the rear axle coming loose and making it’s way out of the swing arm.
The tension adjustment on one side was gone and the nuts on the axle were split; so it was a free axle.
At this stage I decided to put my raincoat jacket on as we didn’t know how long we would be stopped there.
After various suggestions on how to try and remedy this little mishap, it was decided to use cable ties to try and secure the axle on both sides just to prevent it slipping out.
After all, whom keeps these spares handy just incase it should be needed one day.
Well it turned out that it was enough to keep the bike together and make it all the way down back to our accommodation.
Donovan decided to freewheel his bike (engine off) down as far as he could and to then get towed by the BMW.
I did of course add that I would need to have a picture taken of this, as I had never actually seen a bike being towed by another bike.
Needless to say that was enough to convince Donovan to get as far away from me as possible.
He managed to freewheel all the way down to the SA border post with only two sections where he had to push a bit and then hop back on the bike.
I could not catch up with him, and my fuel had run low so my bike was cutting out.
I eventually stopped and switched over to reserve hoping I could now catch up and enjoy the ride down.
Soon after this my pitbike bike decided to start idling at almost full throttle. So there I was hoping to coast down the pass in low gear; but now I was having to apply the brakes and pull the clutch in often as I was racing downhill – certainly not as planned.
I recall being a lot braver going down, but also did not want to let the other riders think I had broken down or turn back for me.
With the axle incident at the top of the pass I wasn’t sure how we would make it to the SA border post in time, but our luck was on track as we easily made it there at around 17h00.
I worked out that we made our complete trip back down to our accommodation in around 1 hour 30 minutes.
I had done this second trip to Sani Pass on a pitbike not only because it is the only bike I have, but also to prove I guess that the first visit was not just pot luck.
I had been told previously that there is no way such a small bike can make it; but if one thinks about it logically as long as the engine runs why not ?
I am strongly considering getting a bigger bike for a trip through Lesotho and also to tackle the Quads-4-Quads ride sometime (Jhb to Dbn on dirt roads).
I am on a limited budget; no money to spend on bikes but starting to have a look anyway.
May end up looking at getting a used Honda CRF 230 with road kit; it is a simple enough bike that is affordable for us “other fellas”.
I really enjoyed my return trip to Lesotho via Sani Pass; my fellow riders also had a great outing. I do think I have now outgrown doing it on a small bike.
We gathered for a few drinks and reflected on the trip and the few little challenges we had along the way; the weather being the one I thought would be the only one !
I almost forgot to add some trivia.
Total distance covered : 73 km as per BMW bike (was reading 67 km, on my mountain bike odometer attached).
Fuel used : my pitbike used just under 3 litres of unleaded petrol, had about one cup left when I got back.
That equates to : 4.1 l/100km, or 24.3 km/l (around R21 in fuel).
If one adds up all the costs it is very cheap for an outing (R90 accomodation, R21 fuel, R4 Lesotho entry, meals/drinks R150) as compared to an organised tour of Sani Pass on a 4x4 vehicle (R500+ trip only, with perhaps a light snack thrown in)
Happy biking.
Tibor.
Note:
I have placed pics to view on photobucket.com
Just let me know if you want any of them emailed in high resolution.
https://s559.photobucket.com/albums/ss37/tkolsa/?
