Schalk
Pack Dog
There were 5 of us, to begin with. The 5 of us would continue, to the end. If possible.
We didn’t really have a plan, but a general idea. I wanted to ride all along the Limpopo River on the Botswana side, called the backbone. Towards the junction of the Shashe river, the Limpopo and the Tuli Block.
From there we wanted to follow the Shashe North until we reach a point directly east of Francistown, then west to FT and then NW towards Kubu Island and the general pan area.
So, we met up at my place, 17 April 2010, about 50km from the Groblersbrug borderpost. Everybody a little overloaded, and overheated. A good time to get rid of some unnecessary weight, but what to leave?
Day 1
Clear the border post around 2pm. We met Jata which came from Mokopane (Potgietersrus).He showed interest to join us for a day or 2.Accross the border you turn east on the backbone. A great dirt road that has a lot of washes flowing to the Limpopo. The distance to our overnight place at Talana farms about 170km.At the first stop on the backbone Jata's eyes are big. It is a new experience on the 990 R with the loose sand and rocks.
He opens his top box and gets some Klippies and cola courage. From here on it just got better.
We take the time and drive the 22km inland to Tsetsebjwe to fill the bikes. Everybody still has a lot of gas ,but we didn’t know when we’ll find some again. So, we fill up, that proofed to be the right thing to do.
At sunset the leading riders reached the Mothloutse River, where we would overnight.
Avontier stayed with Jata as he got used to the sand and rocks on his new bike. He reckoned the klippies and cola would work out after 50km ,just to stop and get new courage.
At Talana farms we were met by a beautiful sight of campfire, case of cokes hot food and , …….,this is where we met her the first time, Portuguese Brandy. André got it as a present and brought it along. We were still in civilization and had some stock, but the Portuguese lady stayed along till we needed her.
Good food, ice, and a comfortable night ahead made us celebrate our first night out in style.
Day 2
OK. Jata left us this morning, taking the tar road inland back to Groblersrug. Those that tasted from the Portuguese lady looked x-tra tired. When everybody was packed she stood lonesome on the table, in a water bottle. Andre jumped of his bike and found a little place for her in his luggage, just in case we ran out of gas, after all, it looks like unleaded!
Let me introduce everybody now, before any-one gets lost.
1.Andre or” Konyn”
He is the one that brought the Brandy
Businessman and farmer. New to the adventure riding scene. Easy going and always ready. Likes to get rid of his clothes late at night.
Rides a KTM 640 Adv
2. Avontier (Gys Grieshaber)
Experienced rider, chose to use his KTM 990R this time. I told him to rather take the 640 but…., Lawyer ,Businessman.
3.Euclid (Charl Vermaak)
Experienced rider on plastic bikes, first big trip on his KTM 990.
It is the same bike Avontier totaled during our Ellisras to Jacobs bay trip, on day 1.
Bought the bike from the insurance and fixed it for just over half of the quotation.
Mechanical Tegnicion - Mechanic Par excellence.
4.KrazyKubu ( Konrad Botes)
Experienced off roader, but first adventure trip.
First cousin of mine, Vascular Surgeon.
Interesting Bike, KTM LC 4, but a 400 cc. Prove to be just the bike for the terrain we will encounter later on and a fuel bowser with a 30 Liter Tank!
5.Kwagga-sakkie (Schalk van Heerden)
Would like to think I’m experienced!
Game farmer, Hunting Safari outfitter
Early on we encounter the Mothloutse. Konyn plows in the sand. The big bikes show quickly that it’s going to be a challenge.
Euclid does well .When in doubt, open out!
This rock formation comes along the eastern bank and then continues along the west bank. Must have been solid at a time. Called Solomon’s Wall.
The landscape is beautiful, lots of elephant and other game. I see a very concerned herd of Impala, circle the herd and find a big Cheetah male. We continue east. Turn North toward Gubajango. Try and find petrol in Mothlabaneng
No Petrol. I would like to fill all the bikes before we join the Shashe and go north.
The 990”s have a about a 400km range with their x-tra 9 Liters. We follow small roads NE with lots of washed away bridges, Konyn ploughs again!
We reach Gubajango around noon.
A young boy jumps on the back of Andre’s bike to show us the bar. He takes us straight to the Police station. Here they inform us that all bars in Botswana are only allowed to open after 2pm.
Again no petrol.
We could find no road on any map that leads to the Shashe from here.
After asking around we find a little road leading through the “Koppies” (rocky outcroppings) towards the Shashe. This river runs on the Eastern border of Botswana with Zimbabwe. The trail is great with lots of rocks.
We reach a Military camp just before the Shashe.
Soldiers rushed out of their tents ,rifles ready. Some still drowsy from their Sunday afternoon sleep.
I’m in the lead, the others hang back. Questions from all around. I keep calm and friendly, trying to find the leader.” No entry, busy with military operations”. The only road along the Shashe is a military patrol road. I sift through all the questions and answers.5 minutes later the platoon leader make his way. I start my subtle questioning .No ,there is no way we could follow the run of the Shashe. I start to see holes in his answers and start to play him. If he allows me to go through, we would just be stopped at the next base, he says. Is there higher authority that I could get permission? No , they are in Bobonong, and will only be available tomorrow. “Do you have communication with all the border patrols ?” I ask. “Yes” the reply.” Can you radio them and tell them that only 5 of us are going to go thru ?” Sleepy soldiers started losing interest.” Yes” ,he says and walks of slowly.” So, we are free to go ?’’ “Just go,” he says. In an instant all 5 bikes starts and so we disappear in a dust cloud along the Shashe ,elated to get the chance to ride this road.
The road is a rider’s heaven.”Koppies" everywhere, many sand streams running into the Shashe, and magnificent views across the river into Zimbabwe. Every few kilometers soldiers rush out of their bases and greet friendly, urging us to chase each other. Everybody enjoys and ride as hard as we can, hoping the trail wouldn’t end.
At one stage we are stopped by a sergeant with his land rover, asking for sigarettes. How fast can you go, he ask.” very fast” I reply,” there is no way you can keep up with me “ I say. He jumps in the land rover and races off. Heavily laden with all our gear I set off and give chace. The government land rover is driven with no mercy. For about 10 km’s I catch up when we clear washes and deep ditches ,just to loose ground in the dust again. I finally in a state of madness manages to pass between him and the fence, and didn’t look back.
Around sunset we look for some place to camp. We have heard that the BDF would wake you up several times at night, as they patrol the road continuously, so wanted to prevent that. We passed through a big sand wash and backtracked. At a grassy spot we turned out of the road and went through the bush until we reached the sand bed, which was around a bend from the patrol road.
It was an idyllic spot. Every-one was tired riding all day, with no food.
Avontier had about a bottle of Klipdrift poured into a plastic bottle. This we consumed with water and a little bit of PowerAde we still had. After this we were out of options. We prepared a fine dinner with bully beef, mashed potatoes and eat sum more cookies. It was at this time Konyn brought out the Portuguese Lady. A little skeptic she passes around the campfire, until she finds home with Avontier. Konyn had some melon flavored rehydration powder, which we mixed with the Portuguese lady. The “Makatansap” (Wild melon Juice) took us late into the night and retired happily to our tents. Every time we would hear the BDF patrols we’d keep quiet until they passed, knowing they were wondering where we disappeared to. In the morning a foot patrol came around the sand bed following our voices, surprised to find us there. A lot of complaints could be heard regarding some Portuguese Lady visiting the camp the night before! Throughout our trip we received great treatment and friendliness from the Botswana officials.
Day 3
We continued our ride along the Shashe. There were water pumps around the bases where we could refill our water and get a wash.
The 990’s were starting to run low on fuel, but had the bowser as backup. Around midday we reached the hydro electric project in the Shashe driven by the Chinese. It is a massive dam, but looked to have failed earlier. From here the Shashe turns N-West towards Francistown. We kept north to reach Matsiloje where we could find Petrol.
I reached Matsiloje on reserve, and the 2 fat sisters had to beg and borrow from the fuel bowser.
Here we had to hang around, eating “droe wors” (Dried sausage?) which we brought from the farm and local “vetkoek” (is there an English name for this?) while waiting for the “Tavern” to open at 14h00.
Sadly our euphoria had to end for now and we took a 60km tar road to Francistown.
Stocking up on, Brandy (South African Brandy that is) Powerade, and some tin food we reached our overnight point at Kingfisher Lodge just North of Francistown. We bought ice, Meat and made “Pap” and retired happily to our luxurious house for the night.
The heavens opened up and it rain heavily during the night.
Day 4
I changed my rear brake pads the next morning, luckily had some spares.
The 10km on black cotton soil to the tar road was quite a challenge. Fuel Bowser first we attacked the 250Km tar road west to Lethlakane. Here we would fill up and still try and reach Kubu that night. Along the road it looked like we were riding somewhere in Holland on dykes. Everything was just flooded after the heavy rains in April. I though it might be little wet where we going, and was smiling at the idea of a challenge. Little did I know……; what to come.
Filled up at Lethlakane and turned North toward Mmatshuma.
Quickly the road became a “2 spoor”, sandy and narrow.
Euclid and Konyn had some crashes, nothing serious. Euclid however cleared some Mopani brush when leaving the trail.
Water was everywhere. Next to the trail it was saturated and was not ride-able. The road had huge spots of water that came above the foot pecks. The worst is the Jeep tracks (old and new) underwater which in an instant would through you into the water head first.
After turning around helping Euclid picking up the fat sister I went down twice in the same hole. My boots were sloshing and all my gear totally wet.
Everybody started getting rid of clothes, as the temperature riding the mud and sand raised quickly.
Only one recent 4x4 tracks and water everywhere. I hoped it would get better later, But we were not even to the pans.
The group stringed out as everyone was fighting their own trails through the mud. The fat sisters had to be treated differently, and the fuel bowser was in his element. This proofed to become a crisis later that day.
After a few kms we reach the first pan. I follow some tracks into the pan and realize that there is no end to the water. It is like driving on a bar of soap. Feet on the surface and 1st gear. When the bike goes an inch you go down.
About 500m into the pan I stop to look back.
Everybody is still standing on the edge of the pan, huddled together.
I wait a bit, but no takers.
Turn around and start my slow journey back again. On the pan I see some riders has tried but turned around.
Krazy Kubu has had a wipeout and his right hand little finger was bend 90 degrees. He pulls on it in agony and tries and keeps it straight, which he manages slightly.
About this time we see a vehicle coming thru the pan on the horizon. It is a local 4x4 Hilux pulling a 2x4 Hilux. They stop ad greet friendly”. How far is Kubu, can we do it, should we try it?” They laugh, no way to reach Kubu. ”Where do you come from?” Just from the nearest cattle post, the reply. The passenger informs us that he is the representative for Kubu and that we should pay with him to camp at Kubu. But, he say, we won't reach and the only way back would be past the village of Mmatshuma, where we come from. So, he won’t charge us. Nobody has been to Kubu in weeks.
They greet and leave. Let’s try and follow their tracks I say, if they can go through, we should too. We can camp at the cattle post, and maybe exit somewhere else.
It took some convincing, but everybody agreed that we should push the comfort zone and so we started our journey of madness.
More to follow soon…..
We didn’t really have a plan, but a general idea. I wanted to ride all along the Limpopo River on the Botswana side, called the backbone. Towards the junction of the Shashe river, the Limpopo and the Tuli Block.
From there we wanted to follow the Shashe North until we reach a point directly east of Francistown, then west to FT and then NW towards Kubu Island and the general pan area.
So, we met up at my place, 17 April 2010, about 50km from the Groblersbrug borderpost. Everybody a little overloaded, and overheated. A good time to get rid of some unnecessary weight, but what to leave?
Day 1
Clear the border post around 2pm. We met Jata which came from Mokopane (Potgietersrus).He showed interest to join us for a day or 2.Accross the border you turn east on the backbone. A great dirt road that has a lot of washes flowing to the Limpopo. The distance to our overnight place at Talana farms about 170km.At the first stop on the backbone Jata's eyes are big. It is a new experience on the 990 R with the loose sand and rocks.
He opens his top box and gets some Klippies and cola courage. From here on it just got better.
We take the time and drive the 22km inland to Tsetsebjwe to fill the bikes. Everybody still has a lot of gas ,but we didn’t know when we’ll find some again. So, we fill up, that proofed to be the right thing to do.
At sunset the leading riders reached the Mothloutse River, where we would overnight.
Avontier stayed with Jata as he got used to the sand and rocks on his new bike. He reckoned the klippies and cola would work out after 50km ,just to stop and get new courage.
At Talana farms we were met by a beautiful sight of campfire, case of cokes hot food and , …….,this is where we met her the first time, Portuguese Brandy. André got it as a present and brought it along. We were still in civilization and had some stock, but the Portuguese lady stayed along till we needed her.
Good food, ice, and a comfortable night ahead made us celebrate our first night out in style.
Day 2
OK. Jata left us this morning, taking the tar road inland back to Groblersrug. Those that tasted from the Portuguese lady looked x-tra tired. When everybody was packed she stood lonesome on the table, in a water bottle. Andre jumped of his bike and found a little place for her in his luggage, just in case we ran out of gas, after all, it looks like unleaded!
Let me introduce everybody now, before any-one gets lost.
1.Andre or” Konyn”
He is the one that brought the Brandy
Businessman and farmer. New to the adventure riding scene. Easy going and always ready. Likes to get rid of his clothes late at night.
Rides a KTM 640 Adv
2. Avontier (Gys Grieshaber)
Experienced rider, chose to use his KTM 990R this time. I told him to rather take the 640 but…., Lawyer ,Businessman.
3.Euclid (Charl Vermaak)
Experienced rider on plastic bikes, first big trip on his KTM 990.
It is the same bike Avontier totaled during our Ellisras to Jacobs bay trip, on day 1.
Bought the bike from the insurance and fixed it for just over half of the quotation.
Mechanical Tegnicion - Mechanic Par excellence.
4.KrazyKubu ( Konrad Botes)
Experienced off roader, but first adventure trip.
First cousin of mine, Vascular Surgeon.
Interesting Bike, KTM LC 4, but a 400 cc. Prove to be just the bike for the terrain we will encounter later on and a fuel bowser with a 30 Liter Tank!
5.Kwagga-sakkie (Schalk van Heerden)
Would like to think I’m experienced!
Game farmer, Hunting Safari outfitter
Early on we encounter the Mothloutse. Konyn plows in the sand. The big bikes show quickly that it’s going to be a challenge.
Euclid does well .When in doubt, open out!
This rock formation comes along the eastern bank and then continues along the west bank. Must have been solid at a time. Called Solomon’s Wall.
The landscape is beautiful, lots of elephant and other game. I see a very concerned herd of Impala, circle the herd and find a big Cheetah male. We continue east. Turn North toward Gubajango. Try and find petrol in Mothlabaneng
No Petrol. I would like to fill all the bikes before we join the Shashe and go north.
The 990”s have a about a 400km range with their x-tra 9 Liters. We follow small roads NE with lots of washed away bridges, Konyn ploughs again!
We reach Gubajango around noon.
A young boy jumps on the back of Andre’s bike to show us the bar. He takes us straight to the Police station. Here they inform us that all bars in Botswana are only allowed to open after 2pm.
Again no petrol.
We could find no road on any map that leads to the Shashe from here.
After asking around we find a little road leading through the “Koppies” (rocky outcroppings) towards the Shashe. This river runs on the Eastern border of Botswana with Zimbabwe. The trail is great with lots of rocks.
We reach a Military camp just before the Shashe.
Soldiers rushed out of their tents ,rifles ready. Some still drowsy from their Sunday afternoon sleep.
I’m in the lead, the others hang back. Questions from all around. I keep calm and friendly, trying to find the leader.” No entry, busy with military operations”. The only road along the Shashe is a military patrol road. I sift through all the questions and answers.5 minutes later the platoon leader make his way. I start my subtle questioning .No ,there is no way we could follow the run of the Shashe. I start to see holes in his answers and start to play him. If he allows me to go through, we would just be stopped at the next base, he says. Is there higher authority that I could get permission? No , they are in Bobonong, and will only be available tomorrow. “Do you have communication with all the border patrols ?” I ask. “Yes” the reply.” Can you radio them and tell them that only 5 of us are going to go thru ?” Sleepy soldiers started losing interest.” Yes” ,he says and walks of slowly.” So, we are free to go ?’’ “Just go,” he says. In an instant all 5 bikes starts and so we disappear in a dust cloud along the Shashe ,elated to get the chance to ride this road.
The road is a rider’s heaven.”Koppies" everywhere, many sand streams running into the Shashe, and magnificent views across the river into Zimbabwe. Every few kilometers soldiers rush out of their bases and greet friendly, urging us to chase each other. Everybody enjoys and ride as hard as we can, hoping the trail wouldn’t end.
At one stage we are stopped by a sergeant with his land rover, asking for sigarettes. How fast can you go, he ask.” very fast” I reply,” there is no way you can keep up with me “ I say. He jumps in the land rover and races off. Heavily laden with all our gear I set off and give chace. The government land rover is driven with no mercy. For about 10 km’s I catch up when we clear washes and deep ditches ,just to loose ground in the dust again. I finally in a state of madness manages to pass between him and the fence, and didn’t look back.
Around sunset we look for some place to camp. We have heard that the BDF would wake you up several times at night, as they patrol the road continuously, so wanted to prevent that. We passed through a big sand wash and backtracked. At a grassy spot we turned out of the road and went through the bush until we reached the sand bed, which was around a bend from the patrol road.
It was an idyllic spot. Every-one was tired riding all day, with no food.
Avontier had about a bottle of Klipdrift poured into a plastic bottle. This we consumed with water and a little bit of PowerAde we still had. After this we were out of options. We prepared a fine dinner with bully beef, mashed potatoes and eat sum more cookies. It was at this time Konyn brought out the Portuguese Lady. A little skeptic she passes around the campfire, until she finds home with Avontier. Konyn had some melon flavored rehydration powder, which we mixed with the Portuguese lady. The “Makatansap” (Wild melon Juice) took us late into the night and retired happily to our tents. Every time we would hear the BDF patrols we’d keep quiet until they passed, knowing they were wondering where we disappeared to. In the morning a foot patrol came around the sand bed following our voices, surprised to find us there. A lot of complaints could be heard regarding some Portuguese Lady visiting the camp the night before! Throughout our trip we received great treatment and friendliness from the Botswana officials.
Day 3
We continued our ride along the Shashe. There were water pumps around the bases where we could refill our water and get a wash.
The 990’s were starting to run low on fuel, but had the bowser as backup. Around midday we reached the hydro electric project in the Shashe driven by the Chinese. It is a massive dam, but looked to have failed earlier. From here the Shashe turns N-West towards Francistown. We kept north to reach Matsiloje where we could find Petrol.
I reached Matsiloje on reserve, and the 2 fat sisters had to beg and borrow from the fuel bowser.
Here we had to hang around, eating “droe wors” (Dried sausage?) which we brought from the farm and local “vetkoek” (is there an English name for this?) while waiting for the “Tavern” to open at 14h00.
Sadly our euphoria had to end for now and we took a 60km tar road to Francistown.
Stocking up on, Brandy (South African Brandy that is) Powerade, and some tin food we reached our overnight point at Kingfisher Lodge just North of Francistown. We bought ice, Meat and made “Pap” and retired happily to our luxurious house for the night.
The heavens opened up and it rain heavily during the night.
Day 4
I changed my rear brake pads the next morning, luckily had some spares.
The 10km on black cotton soil to the tar road was quite a challenge. Fuel Bowser first we attacked the 250Km tar road west to Lethlakane. Here we would fill up and still try and reach Kubu that night. Along the road it looked like we were riding somewhere in Holland on dykes. Everything was just flooded after the heavy rains in April. I though it might be little wet where we going, and was smiling at the idea of a challenge. Little did I know……; what to come.
Filled up at Lethlakane and turned North toward Mmatshuma.
Quickly the road became a “2 spoor”, sandy and narrow.
Euclid and Konyn had some crashes, nothing serious. Euclid however cleared some Mopani brush when leaving the trail.
Water was everywhere. Next to the trail it was saturated and was not ride-able. The road had huge spots of water that came above the foot pecks. The worst is the Jeep tracks (old and new) underwater which in an instant would through you into the water head first.
After turning around helping Euclid picking up the fat sister I went down twice in the same hole. My boots were sloshing and all my gear totally wet.
Everybody started getting rid of clothes, as the temperature riding the mud and sand raised quickly.
Only one recent 4x4 tracks and water everywhere. I hoped it would get better later, But we were not even to the pans.
The group stringed out as everyone was fighting their own trails through the mud. The fat sisters had to be treated differently, and the fuel bowser was in his element. This proofed to become a crisis later that day.
After a few kms we reach the first pan. I follow some tracks into the pan and realize that there is no end to the water. It is like driving on a bar of soap. Feet on the surface and 1st gear. When the bike goes an inch you go down.
About 500m into the pan I stop to look back.
Everybody is still standing on the edge of the pan, huddled together.
I wait a bit, but no takers.
Turn around and start my slow journey back again. On the pan I see some riders has tried but turned around.
Krazy Kubu has had a wipeout and his right hand little finger was bend 90 degrees. He pulls on it in agony and tries and keeps it straight, which he manages slightly.
About this time we see a vehicle coming thru the pan on the horizon. It is a local 4x4 Hilux pulling a 2x4 Hilux. They stop ad greet friendly”. How far is Kubu, can we do it, should we try it?” They laugh, no way to reach Kubu. ”Where do you come from?” Just from the nearest cattle post, the reply. The passenger informs us that he is the representative for Kubu and that we should pay with him to camp at Kubu. But, he say, we won't reach and the only way back would be past the village of Mmatshuma, where we come from. So, he won’t charge us. Nobody has been to Kubu in weeks.
They greet and leave. Let’s try and follow their tracks I say, if they can go through, we should too. We can camp at the cattle post, and maybe exit somewhere else.
It took some convincing, but everybody agreed that we should push the comfort zone and so we started our journey of madness.
More to follow soon…..
