LuckyStriker
Bachelor Dog
DAY 1
We are two days riding when we pull into camp. Our clothes dusty and our feet still sloshing around in wet boots. From amongst a cluster of trees comes a welcoming cheer followed by smiling faces. We have made it to the inaugural Wild Dogs Bash.
But before I get too comfortable with this cool beer in my hand, let me start with the journey thus far. Because the journey after all, is what it?s all about.
I was glad I packed the booze bakkie the previous night because we overslept a little on Thursday morning. I say booze bakkie and not support vehicle because the bakkie contained mostly beers, ice and fold up chairs. No tools, fuel or tyres would be allowed on the back of it and Rika, the driver, would meet us only at the campsite every evening.
And so I met Butch and KiLeRSA at the one-stop next to the highway at exactly 7:15am. Together we zipped through the mountain and took the first dirt road available around the Brandvlei dam outside Rawsonville.
We passed through the towns of Robertson and Ashton and met up with the rest of our party in Montagu.
Our posse was now 9 persons strong: KiLeRSA, Butch, LuckyStriker, Zanie (aka LuckyStrykyster), Mango, macduff, RenedianCanadian, Gravelmad and Philip.
After a nice strong coffee we saddled up and rode out of town with tangible excitement. In less than 5 minutes our happiness turned to dismay when we discovered that the gravel road out of town was closed. Where once stood a bridge there was now only a heap of rocks ending most abruptly over the Kingna River.
The trip did not hinge on this one section of road and we could easily continue on the alternative R62, but it would be such a shame to miss the Ouberg pass and chicken out just because of a destroyed bridge.
And so we walked the river and planned our path. First to go was Gravelmad on his XT followed by macduff on his. The rest of us stood by just in case someone dropped his or her bike on the treacherous rocks. It is perhaps ironic that the farm on which we were is called ?Helpmekaar?.
Rene?s heavily laden Dakar beached itself on a submerged boulder. Gravelmad and Butch were quick to heave it free. On the far side of the river a thick sandbank had to be crossed before we had any hope of rejoining the road on the other side of dense reeds.
I went next. The GSA seat is so high that my feet rarely touched ground. Only when I passed jutting rocks could I prop myself up and plan the next trajectory. I learned from previous water crossings that speed may look impressive, but it is ultimately reckless and stupid.
All eyes were on Mango as this was her most serious bit of technical riding thus far but she handled it with style despite the KLR sliding and bounding over the wobbly boulders.
A bunch of guys were waiting to lend a hand. After a hard shove she sped away from us in a big spray of water. She hopped over the bank trailing long streamers of green muck and a resounding cheer from the guys.
The pics are quite over exposed. I apologise. I did colour them in slightly so that at least they?ll have some artistic merit.
Not 10 metres further down the road was another crossing. This time a muddy pit. I ploughed through first, trying to better Mango?s impressive exit with some tail sliding and mud flinging.
Phillip went next but the XT decided to do a little sightseeing and the guy nearly disappeared into the reeds, never to be seen again. He got things back under control in the nick of time. Much to the enjoyment of the onlookers of course.
Whoa there horse!
?Hey Phil! Where the hell you going?!?
We crossed the Ouberg pass at around 11am and had a few more splash-throughs.
macduff thoroughly enjoying himself
Just like many large birds, KiLeRSA looks rather awkward on the ground. But once in full flight he is truly magnificent! :lol:
Soon we encountered an electrified gate with big game fencing. A sign sporting pictures of lion and elephant warned us to close the gate behind us and under no circumstances to leave or vehicles.
?Well that?s just great? I said to myself. I never stopped to ask what the others thought about our new found situation and just looked about nervously when I saw more signs warning of buffalo, rhino and giraffe. It was a great little two-track road but we never saw any big game? perhaps we were riding a little too fast?
About 35km before Ladismith we turned north along a looping detour on our way to the delectable Seweweekspoort. A beautiful gravel road takes you through majestic cliffs of layer cake. We made several stops to admire the views.
A Brief History:
Construction on the poort started in 1859 by 108 convicts under the whip of a Mr Woodifield and Mr Apsey. The pass is 17km long and follows the course of the Huis River through the Great Swartberg Mountains.
Seweweekspoort is reportedly named after a Berlin Mission Society preacher Louis Zerwick, who toiled at God?s work in the area.
Allow me to quote a rather long winded Dr William Atherstone, a respected geologist who travelled through the poort in 1871:
??the most wonderful gorge or mountain pass I have ever beheld. For twelve miles you travel bare walls of vertical rock, in parts 3,000 feet high, twisting and twining as the mountain stream winds through the flexures and curves of the mountain chasm, crossing and re-crossing, I am told, more than thirty times; in parts so narrow there is scarcely any room for the river and the road ? yet an excellent wagon road has been made through it with comparatively little expense; and, certainly, nowhere in the Colony have I seen so wonderful a pass ? a clean zigzag cut through the whole thickness of the rock formation of the range from top to bottom.
When once you enter, no appearance of exit is there for two hours and a half; but you are constantly meeting new scenes, over which quartzose cliffs, curved and fractured in every direction ? now red vertical sandstone, with flexures and arches jammed together in inexplicable confusion, as if jammed together laterally by prodigious force ? at the next turning, gentle ripple-like rock waves, with blue slate ? and high overhead, bright-yellow lichened crags, making the neck ache in an attempt to look up at them, with a small chink of sky over head; shut up in front and behind, with green trees ? keurboom and wagenboom, aloes, and succulents nestling in the rock fissures high above you. How few know of this extraordinary mountain gap!
All these remarks ? even the last sentence ? are still true today. 130 years after the pass was built it still looks almost exactly the same as in Dr Atherstone?s day
From there we rode on to Calitzdorp to do some shopping and have a surprise encounter with the booze bakkie. It had a flat tyre and the ladies quickly changed it with some belated help from the guys.
The tyre was cut and could not be plugged. Fortunately there was a garage nearby and a tube was fitted in no time at all.
After repairing the bakkie we rode up the twisty dirt road past Calitzdorp dam to Kruisrivier. It was a magical road through green hills with tall aloes. Children waved at us from their colourful houses as we meandered past.
I rode in front since I had the route planned on my GPS (and to stay out of everyone?s dust hehehe). Around every corner flocks of ostriches jumped up and ran the length of the enclosures in panic. Time and again the excitable birds would calm down and look at us the moment Gravelmad reached the scene. We joked the whole weekend that the ostriches found something profoundly attractive in him.
RenedianCanadian appeared to enjoy the trip too. I thought the ride must have been pretty boring to someone as well travelled as he, but he genuinely seemed to appreciate the views and roads.
We arrived at De Hoek campsite at 5:20pm just before the sun disappeared behind the Swartberg Mountains.
That evening we listened to Rene?s travelling tales. Well into the midnight hour the topic of Around-the-World riding was exhausted and we switched to the history of the world before things naturally digressed to sex, drugs and rock and roll.
We are two days riding when we pull into camp. Our clothes dusty and our feet still sloshing around in wet boots. From amongst a cluster of trees comes a welcoming cheer followed by smiling faces. We have made it to the inaugural Wild Dogs Bash.
But before I get too comfortable with this cool beer in my hand, let me start with the journey thus far. Because the journey after all, is what it?s all about.
I was glad I packed the booze bakkie the previous night because we overslept a little on Thursday morning. I say booze bakkie and not support vehicle because the bakkie contained mostly beers, ice and fold up chairs. No tools, fuel or tyres would be allowed on the back of it and Rika, the driver, would meet us only at the campsite every evening.
And so I met Butch and KiLeRSA at the one-stop next to the highway at exactly 7:15am. Together we zipped through the mountain and took the first dirt road available around the Brandvlei dam outside Rawsonville.
We passed through the towns of Robertson and Ashton and met up with the rest of our party in Montagu.
Our posse was now 9 persons strong: KiLeRSA, Butch, LuckyStriker, Zanie (aka LuckyStrykyster), Mango, macduff, RenedianCanadian, Gravelmad and Philip.
After a nice strong coffee we saddled up and rode out of town with tangible excitement. In less than 5 minutes our happiness turned to dismay when we discovered that the gravel road out of town was closed. Where once stood a bridge there was now only a heap of rocks ending most abruptly over the Kingna River.
The trip did not hinge on this one section of road and we could easily continue on the alternative R62, but it would be such a shame to miss the Ouberg pass and chicken out just because of a destroyed bridge.
And so we walked the river and planned our path. First to go was Gravelmad on his XT followed by macduff on his. The rest of us stood by just in case someone dropped his or her bike on the treacherous rocks. It is perhaps ironic that the farm on which we were is called ?Helpmekaar?.
Rene?s heavily laden Dakar beached itself on a submerged boulder. Gravelmad and Butch were quick to heave it free. On the far side of the river a thick sandbank had to be crossed before we had any hope of rejoining the road on the other side of dense reeds.
I went next. The GSA seat is so high that my feet rarely touched ground. Only when I passed jutting rocks could I prop myself up and plan the next trajectory. I learned from previous water crossings that speed may look impressive, but it is ultimately reckless and stupid.
All eyes were on Mango as this was her most serious bit of technical riding thus far but she handled it with style despite the KLR sliding and bounding over the wobbly boulders.
A bunch of guys were waiting to lend a hand. After a hard shove she sped away from us in a big spray of water. She hopped over the bank trailing long streamers of green muck and a resounding cheer from the guys.
The pics are quite over exposed. I apologise. I did colour them in slightly so that at least they?ll have some artistic merit.
Not 10 metres further down the road was another crossing. This time a muddy pit. I ploughed through first, trying to better Mango?s impressive exit with some tail sliding and mud flinging.
Phillip went next but the XT decided to do a little sightseeing and the guy nearly disappeared into the reeds, never to be seen again. He got things back under control in the nick of time. Much to the enjoyment of the onlookers of course.
Whoa there horse!
?Hey Phil! Where the hell you going?!?
We crossed the Ouberg pass at around 11am and had a few more splash-throughs.
macduff thoroughly enjoying himself
Just like many large birds, KiLeRSA looks rather awkward on the ground. But once in full flight he is truly magnificent! :lol:
Soon we encountered an electrified gate with big game fencing. A sign sporting pictures of lion and elephant warned us to close the gate behind us and under no circumstances to leave or vehicles.
?Well that?s just great? I said to myself. I never stopped to ask what the others thought about our new found situation and just looked about nervously when I saw more signs warning of buffalo, rhino and giraffe. It was a great little two-track road but we never saw any big game? perhaps we were riding a little too fast?
About 35km before Ladismith we turned north along a looping detour on our way to the delectable Seweweekspoort. A beautiful gravel road takes you through majestic cliffs of layer cake. We made several stops to admire the views.
A Brief History:
Construction on the poort started in 1859 by 108 convicts under the whip of a Mr Woodifield and Mr Apsey. The pass is 17km long and follows the course of the Huis River through the Great Swartberg Mountains.
Seweweekspoort is reportedly named after a Berlin Mission Society preacher Louis Zerwick, who toiled at God?s work in the area.
Allow me to quote a rather long winded Dr William Atherstone, a respected geologist who travelled through the poort in 1871:
??the most wonderful gorge or mountain pass I have ever beheld. For twelve miles you travel bare walls of vertical rock, in parts 3,000 feet high, twisting and twining as the mountain stream winds through the flexures and curves of the mountain chasm, crossing and re-crossing, I am told, more than thirty times; in parts so narrow there is scarcely any room for the river and the road ? yet an excellent wagon road has been made through it with comparatively little expense; and, certainly, nowhere in the Colony have I seen so wonderful a pass ? a clean zigzag cut through the whole thickness of the rock formation of the range from top to bottom.
When once you enter, no appearance of exit is there for two hours and a half; but you are constantly meeting new scenes, over which quartzose cliffs, curved and fractured in every direction ? now red vertical sandstone, with flexures and arches jammed together in inexplicable confusion, as if jammed together laterally by prodigious force ? at the next turning, gentle ripple-like rock waves, with blue slate ? and high overhead, bright-yellow lichened crags, making the neck ache in an attempt to look up at them, with a small chink of sky over head; shut up in front and behind, with green trees ? keurboom and wagenboom, aloes, and succulents nestling in the rock fissures high above you. How few know of this extraordinary mountain gap!
All these remarks ? even the last sentence ? are still true today. 130 years after the pass was built it still looks almost exactly the same as in Dr Atherstone?s day
From there we rode on to Calitzdorp to do some shopping and have a surprise encounter with the booze bakkie. It had a flat tyre and the ladies quickly changed it with some belated help from the guys.
The tyre was cut and could not be plugged. Fortunately there was a garage nearby and a tube was fitted in no time at all.
After repairing the bakkie we rode up the twisty dirt road past Calitzdorp dam to Kruisrivier. It was a magical road through green hills with tall aloes. Children waved at us from their colourful houses as we meandered past.
I rode in front since I had the route planned on my GPS (and to stay out of everyone?s dust hehehe). Around every corner flocks of ostriches jumped up and ran the length of the enclosures in panic. Time and again the excitable birds would calm down and look at us the moment Gravelmad reached the scene. We joked the whole weekend that the ostriches found something profoundly attractive in him.
RenedianCanadian appeared to enjoy the trip too. I thought the ride must have been pretty boring to someone as well travelled as he, but he genuinely seemed to appreciate the views and roads.
We arrived at De Hoek campsite at 5:20pm just before the sun disappeared behind the Swartberg Mountains.
That evening we listened to Rene?s travelling tales. Well into the midnight hour the topic of Around-the-World riding was exhausted and we switched to the history of the world before things naturally digressed to sex, drugs and rock and roll.
