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And just like that, it's over! Months of planning - thankfully Gus shouldered the majority of the burden here, preparation, kit selection, packing - unpacking - repacking, endless pre ride banter - most of it useless, a few nuggets of info shared, taming the work beast, and here we are -...

Once on the other side, it was gravel highway back to Klein Pella. Our last stop on this tour. The KTM 890 in its natural habitat.

Then, with far less finesse ...

Lohan, making it look all too easy.

As a last hurrah, Gus found a fairly steep, long twee spore climb whose surface was only soft red sand. Approaching it, I realised the only way to get to the top was with as much momentum as one dared to accumulate before starting the climb. I came in hot, wrestling my 890 to stay in one of the...

Eating again Bob?

No trip to the Richtersveld is complete without the obligatory group photo with a Kookerboom.

Gus's onboard view of proceedings.

Once the route through was staked out, it was back on down the river.

After a broad sweep of the river bed, a speed bump stretched across the valley floor. There was a line of rocks that required some investigation on foot. We took the opportunity to take a break and readjust Gus' makeshift gear lever.

Out of Steinkopf we turned off the N7 not a moment too soon. Shortly we were back in river beds! 🥳

Past de oude werf before hitting the tar to Steinkopf to top up our fuel.

All too soon it was over and we rejoined a gravel road, complete with gates. Henry looking for some drifting action.

We left on a barely visible track that once more beckoned one to crank open the throttle. We all were revelling in skipping from one bump to the next, flying across the desert surface. Now this is what adventure biking is all about, exhilaration at the speed, wonder at the landscape, the...

The surreal atmosphere and vistas of the area got everyone doing their very best to outdo Obie Oberholzer. Tjek me tjek you back.

Gazing on these simple yet poignant headstones, one wondered what drove people to come and eke out a living in this beautiful yet hostile landscape. And admire that this family seemed to have done just that for a number of years. Noting the person's life in years, months and days gives me an...

Over one of the low dunes we came across a graveyard, partly reclaimed by the relentless desert sands. I suspect they had endured many cycles of being covered and then uncovered.

We were about to enter, as Expat rightly pointed out, some of the very best desert riding one could wish for.

We then turned East and the track largely disappeared, quite abruptly opening up to red sand desert all the way to the mountains in the far distance.

Once we got enough sky into Jarod's round, we headed out on the R382, swinging a hard left about 20km out of town. This started as a track through yet more fields of flowers.