dieterj
Pack Dog
Cederberg Solo – Baden-Powell’s Snotklap
To start off the holiday, I thought I would do a little 2-day jaunt up to the Cederberg, 15-16 Dec. Work had been hectic this year and I needed to get my head into “holiday-mode”. I also hadn’t been on a decent trip with the Dakar for at least 2 years, so thought it would be good to see what niggles had developed. After all, the old girl turned 10 this year.
So on Saturday morning I packed a few things, checked that my toolkit was intact, packed the footpump, mapsourced a route through Wellington, Bain’s Kloof, Ceres, Oasis, Wuppertal, Lambert’s Bay and down the coast, and was off :ricky:
The Bain’s Kloof pass was great, and the twisties got me back into the right frame of concentration. Before I knew it, I was in Ceres, and stopped for a fuel stop and a colddrink.
Then up the Gydo pass, filled up in Op-die-Berg just as they closed. I would have had enough fuel, but it couldn’t hurt. A few kilometres further and the dirt started.
I had some trepidation about doing the Eselbank road alone, but in Op-die-berg I met a group on various bikes who were going the same way, so I was comfortable that if something happened at least somebody would be able to get a message out.
Really enjoyed the dirt road up to the Oasis – the Dakar was going on as reliably as it had for the almost 5 years I’ve had it. Got to the Oasis and checked in with Gerrit and Chantelle.
Since I had a bit of spare fuel, I thought I would take a trip to the Stadsaal rocks. The road from the Wuppertal turnoff to the rocks was horribly corrugated, and promptly dislodged one of the screws holding the screen on – first niggle. The combination for the lock at the rocks had also been changed, so I couldn’t get in. Oh-well, R40 donation to conservation – no biggie.
Went back to the Oasis, unpacked, took the screen off (Dakar – “n” configuration), and went and socialised with the group mentioned earlier. That evening we had ribs the size of a small aircraft carrier, and went to bed well-fed, and well-juiced.
The next morning early I woke up to a pleasant sight of Oasis car-guards looking after the bike.
On closer inspection though, there was a nasty surprise. The dakkie’s front wheel was flat. Bugger!
But that’s part of the fun, so I took out the tolls and started working. That’s when I discovered that the T50 torx allen key thing that I needed to get the front wheel off the bike wasn’t in the kit – 2nd niggle. I couldn’t remember having taken it out, but in the last 2 years we had moved house twice, and done lots of commuting, and things had become confused, so anything was possible.
In any case, I managed to lift the tyre, get the tube out, fix the puncture and get the tube back in and finish the job with the bike still attached to the wheel. At this point, a small alarm bell started going off in my head. The puncture was 2 small pin-prick holes on the seam of the tube, a Kenda enduro tube. I weighed up options I had:
• Go along planned route to Wuppertal – shortest distance through Cederberg to a town, and there were people on the road
• Go along Algeria route – the bit I had done the day before was really rough, longer than the Wuppertal route
• Turn around and go home – What?
I got ready, packed, etc., and the repair was holding, so hey, Wuppertal here we come. At this point it was about 8am and already nearly a zillion degrees, and I thought to get through to Clanwilliam before 11 was doable. So started the journey along the Eselbank road.
Then discovered the GPS was intermittently losing power with a loose connection somewhere – 3rd niggle. Not serious since I knew the route quite well. It was an awesome ride along the ridge. At Eselbank I had caught up with the other group, and stopped off at the waterfall for a quick look.
Carried on through the sandy sections, and though not elegant riding, can proudly confirm that I never fell off. Soon I was at the top of the Eselbank pass, about to descend into Wuppertal.
Went down the pass about halfway, and got blocked by a troop of baboons that had camped out on the road. Being a city boy, I didn’t know what the protocol was, but cleverly realized there were more of them than there was of me, and they had bigger teeth. I stopped and watched them, and a couple of them started walking up the road towards me. I made a u-turn (no easy task on the narrow Eselbank pass with it’s drop-off on one side) and went up a little way. I stopped a way up and got off the bike to see what they were doing. As far as baboon protocol goes, this was clearly a mistake. Suddenly they all jumped up on their hind legs and started looking at me without the lazy look they had before. One of them, I assume the supreme commander, started barking at me. Fight or flight? Needless to say, I got on the bike and headed up the pass.
By the way, with all this excitement, no photos were taken.
At the top of the pass I stopped, and had a 1.5l water stop. It was now a genuine zillion degrees, and no wind. I was waiting for the other group who had stopped at the waterfall, thinking that the bigger group might scare the baboons off the road. After about 15min they still had not appeared, so I decided to venture down the pass – the baboons may have moved on.
They hadn’t. Same place, same procedure. Soon I was back at the top of the pass again. As I was once again doing the u-turn at the top, the other guys came past me, and I wasn’t able to warn them about the baboons. But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity and pulled off behind them, only to find that the front wheel was again flat. Options – fix puncture and contend with baboons later, or nurse the bike down and fix the puncture in Wuppertal. I carried on. Luckily the steep sections of the pass were concreted, so I did have some directional control. By the time we got to the place where the baboons were, they had fled. I went a bit of the way past that point, then slowed down and began “paddling”, the aim now to get the bike down the pass without going over the side. It was a hair-raising experience – not recommended. Also, did I mention it was hot.
I didn’t take any pictures at this point, but did find one on google for illustrative purposes.
Just outside Wuppertal I began swinging spanners again. This time I borrowed the torx spanner I needed to get the wheel off. Did make things much easier. Found a brilliant workbench and proceeded to take the tyre off. It was still hot.
Donkey-work in Wuppertal.
Turned out that the tube was now splitting along the seam, starting where the previous puncture was. The split was now about a cm long. I wasn’t sure whether it was fixable. The other group of bikers were kind enough to give me one of their spare tubes, so I began putting it in. The rimtape had shifted slightly so I couldn’t get the valve through. I shifted the rimtape, which proceeded to disintegrate into pieces – 4th and final niggle. I tried fashioning some rimtape out my old tube by cutting it up, but it was too long to fit onto the rim properly. I put the tyre back without the tube, and in disgust rode the bike a couple of 100m into Wuppertal, to the shop. At this point the temperature was like sitting next to a solar flare. :dousing:
Here I decided to abort the idea of still completing the planned route. It was midday, I was gatvol, and I was feeling somewhat dehydrated. The other group were very willing to get me underway again, but I declined. They still had 4 days of riding to do, and I wasn’t in a life-threatening situation, so they had done more than I could have expected. They agreed to get a message to the recovery guy over the hill because I was not able to get hold of him from the shop. They left, with stern messages about being better prepared next time. I know.
Went back to the shop and downed a 2l Coke. I then did manage to get hold of the recovery guy, who said he would be there in an hour. I sat down to wait, and contemplate the whole thing.
While I was waiting, a couple who had been at the Oasis came along. They were riding a Royal Enfield, and had just come down the pass. The lady had walked down the pass in her trendy high-heel biker boots. She looked decidedly hot, and not in a good way. At least I wasn’t the only one to make a mistake that day. :
Eventually the recovery guys arrived, and I got a lift to Clanwilliam with the bike on the back. Actually there were 2 recovery guys, cause the farmer over the hill wasn’t the guy whose phone number I had. Anyway, no harm done.
In Clanwilliam, the recovery guy, Attie, let me work in his workshop to fix things. Made rimtape by sticking the old rimtape in place between layers of Duct tape. When I tried to put the tube in that I had gotten from the other group, it turned out to be an 18” tube. It was about 3pm on Sunday afternoon, it was as hot as hell, and I was in no mood. Attie recommended a guesthouse across the road and I agreed to meet him in the morning with some sort of plan.
Cut a long story short, I posted a message on the forum, and in no time there were numerous replies from people who could bring me a tube from various places if I didn’t come right, and also confirmed that I could use the 18” for a short period, etc. Blinkes called me in the evening to say there was a bicycle shop in town that sold motorcycle tubes. The next morning early I went to find the shop, although being a public holiday, didn’t expect it to be open. Found the closed shop and could see the tubes through the window. Phoned the number and the owner, who was on holiday, agreed to get someone to open the shop for me. I got the tube, fitted it, and travelled the N7 to cape Town at 80km/h, because the front tyre had been abused all the way down the pass and was squirrely, and the new tube was an offroad one with the warning “not for highway use”.
Then got home at lunchtime on Monday.
So one could say this was a disastrous trip, but let’s just sum it up:
• I wanted to get into holiday mode – nothing does that better than circumstances taking away your perceived control over life
• I wanted to check what niggles the Dakar had developed – discovered those in no uncertain terms. I realized the niggles were as much in my mental and toolkit preparation than in the bike itself. By the way, who has checked their rimtape lately?
• In addition I learned that solo trips are best done in areas with cellphone reception, and baboons are a pain in the arse.
• The whole thing was much better than sitting in front of TV.
• No accidents or close shaves, falls or slides – always a bonus.
And in closing, I realized that in 5 years I had never taken the front wheel off the Dakkie myself. I couldn’t find the torx tool, and phoned BMW to go and buy one if it wasn’t too expensive. Can you believe it, the guy looked on his system, and confidently told me that that size was not included in the toolkit!! To his credit, he said that didn’t make much sense at all. :imaposer:
To start off the holiday, I thought I would do a little 2-day jaunt up to the Cederberg, 15-16 Dec. Work had been hectic this year and I needed to get my head into “holiday-mode”. I also hadn’t been on a decent trip with the Dakar for at least 2 years, so thought it would be good to see what niggles had developed. After all, the old girl turned 10 this year.
So on Saturday morning I packed a few things, checked that my toolkit was intact, packed the footpump, mapsourced a route through Wellington, Bain’s Kloof, Ceres, Oasis, Wuppertal, Lambert’s Bay and down the coast, and was off :ricky:
The Bain’s Kloof pass was great, and the twisties got me back into the right frame of concentration. Before I knew it, I was in Ceres, and stopped for a fuel stop and a colddrink.
Then up the Gydo pass, filled up in Op-die-Berg just as they closed. I would have had enough fuel, but it couldn’t hurt. A few kilometres further and the dirt started.
I had some trepidation about doing the Eselbank road alone, but in Op-die-berg I met a group on various bikes who were going the same way, so I was comfortable that if something happened at least somebody would be able to get a message out.
Really enjoyed the dirt road up to the Oasis – the Dakar was going on as reliably as it had for the almost 5 years I’ve had it. Got to the Oasis and checked in with Gerrit and Chantelle.
Since I had a bit of spare fuel, I thought I would take a trip to the Stadsaal rocks. The road from the Wuppertal turnoff to the rocks was horribly corrugated, and promptly dislodged one of the screws holding the screen on – first niggle. The combination for the lock at the rocks had also been changed, so I couldn’t get in. Oh-well, R40 donation to conservation – no biggie.
Went back to the Oasis, unpacked, took the screen off (Dakar – “n” configuration), and went and socialised with the group mentioned earlier. That evening we had ribs the size of a small aircraft carrier, and went to bed well-fed, and well-juiced.
The next morning early I woke up to a pleasant sight of Oasis car-guards looking after the bike.
On closer inspection though, there was a nasty surprise. The dakkie’s front wheel was flat. Bugger!
But that’s part of the fun, so I took out the tolls and started working. That’s when I discovered that the T50 torx allen key thing that I needed to get the front wheel off the bike wasn’t in the kit – 2nd niggle. I couldn’t remember having taken it out, but in the last 2 years we had moved house twice, and done lots of commuting, and things had become confused, so anything was possible.In any case, I managed to lift the tyre, get the tube out, fix the puncture and get the tube back in and finish the job with the bike still attached to the wheel. At this point, a small alarm bell started going off in my head. The puncture was 2 small pin-prick holes on the seam of the tube, a Kenda enduro tube. I weighed up options I had:
• Go along planned route to Wuppertal – shortest distance through Cederberg to a town, and there were people on the road
• Go along Algeria route – the bit I had done the day before was really rough, longer than the Wuppertal route
• Turn around and go home – What?
I got ready, packed, etc., and the repair was holding, so hey, Wuppertal here we come. At this point it was about 8am and already nearly a zillion degrees, and I thought to get through to Clanwilliam before 11 was doable. So started the journey along the Eselbank road.
Then discovered the GPS was intermittently losing power with a loose connection somewhere – 3rd niggle. Not serious since I knew the route quite well. It was an awesome ride along the ridge. At Eselbank I had caught up with the other group, and stopped off at the waterfall for a quick look.
Carried on through the sandy sections, and though not elegant riding, can proudly confirm that I never fell off. Soon I was at the top of the Eselbank pass, about to descend into Wuppertal.
Went down the pass about halfway, and got blocked by a troop of baboons that had camped out on the road. Being a city boy, I didn’t know what the protocol was, but cleverly realized there were more of them than there was of me, and they had bigger teeth. I stopped and watched them, and a couple of them started walking up the road towards me. I made a u-turn (no easy task on the narrow Eselbank pass with it’s drop-off on one side) and went up a little way. I stopped a way up and got off the bike to see what they were doing. As far as baboon protocol goes, this was clearly a mistake. Suddenly they all jumped up on their hind legs and started looking at me without the lazy look they had before. One of them, I assume the supreme commander, started barking at me. Fight or flight? Needless to say, I got on the bike and headed up the pass.
By the way, with all this excitement, no photos were taken.
At the top of the pass I stopped, and had a 1.5l water stop. It was now a genuine zillion degrees, and no wind. I was waiting for the other group who had stopped at the waterfall, thinking that the bigger group might scare the baboons off the road. After about 15min they still had not appeared, so I decided to venture down the pass – the baboons may have moved on.
They hadn’t. Same place, same procedure. Soon I was back at the top of the pass again. As I was once again doing the u-turn at the top, the other guys came past me, and I wasn’t able to warn them about the baboons. But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity and pulled off behind them, only to find that the front wheel was again flat. Options – fix puncture and contend with baboons later, or nurse the bike down and fix the puncture in Wuppertal. I carried on. Luckily the steep sections of the pass were concreted, so I did have some directional control. By the time we got to the place where the baboons were, they had fled. I went a bit of the way past that point, then slowed down and began “paddling”, the aim now to get the bike down the pass without going over the side. It was a hair-raising experience – not recommended. Also, did I mention it was hot.
I didn’t take any pictures at this point, but did find one on google for illustrative purposes.
Just outside Wuppertal I began swinging spanners again. This time I borrowed the torx spanner I needed to get the wheel off. Did make things much easier. Found a brilliant workbench and proceeded to take the tyre off. It was still hot.
Donkey-work in Wuppertal.
Turned out that the tube was now splitting along the seam, starting where the previous puncture was. The split was now about a cm long. I wasn’t sure whether it was fixable. The other group of bikers were kind enough to give me one of their spare tubes, so I began putting it in. The rimtape had shifted slightly so I couldn’t get the valve through. I shifted the rimtape, which proceeded to disintegrate into pieces – 4th and final niggle. I tried fashioning some rimtape out my old tube by cutting it up, but it was too long to fit onto the rim properly. I put the tyre back without the tube, and in disgust rode the bike a couple of 100m into Wuppertal, to the shop. At this point the temperature was like sitting next to a solar flare. :dousing:
Here I decided to abort the idea of still completing the planned route. It was midday, I was gatvol, and I was feeling somewhat dehydrated. The other group were very willing to get me underway again, but I declined. They still had 4 days of riding to do, and I wasn’t in a life-threatening situation, so they had done more than I could have expected. They agreed to get a message to the recovery guy over the hill because I was not able to get hold of him from the shop. They left, with stern messages about being better prepared next time. I know.
Went back to the shop and downed a 2l Coke. I then did manage to get hold of the recovery guy, who said he would be there in an hour. I sat down to wait, and contemplate the whole thing.
While I was waiting, a couple who had been at the Oasis came along. They were riding a Royal Enfield, and had just come down the pass. The lady had walked down the pass in her trendy high-heel biker boots. She looked decidedly hot, and not in a good way. At least I wasn’t the only one to make a mistake that day. :
Eventually the recovery guys arrived, and I got a lift to Clanwilliam with the bike on the back. Actually there were 2 recovery guys, cause the farmer over the hill wasn’t the guy whose phone number I had. Anyway, no harm done.
In Clanwilliam, the recovery guy, Attie, let me work in his workshop to fix things. Made rimtape by sticking the old rimtape in place between layers of Duct tape. When I tried to put the tube in that I had gotten from the other group, it turned out to be an 18” tube. It was about 3pm on Sunday afternoon, it was as hot as hell, and I was in no mood. Attie recommended a guesthouse across the road and I agreed to meet him in the morning with some sort of plan.
Cut a long story short, I posted a message on the forum, and in no time there were numerous replies from people who could bring me a tube from various places if I didn’t come right, and also confirmed that I could use the 18” for a short period, etc. Blinkes called me in the evening to say there was a bicycle shop in town that sold motorcycle tubes. The next morning early I went to find the shop, although being a public holiday, didn’t expect it to be open. Found the closed shop and could see the tubes through the window. Phoned the number and the owner, who was on holiday, agreed to get someone to open the shop for me. I got the tube, fitted it, and travelled the N7 to cape Town at 80km/h, because the front tyre had been abused all the way down the pass and was squirrely, and the new tube was an offroad one with the warning “not for highway use”.
Then got home at lunchtime on Monday.
So one could say this was a disastrous trip, but let’s just sum it up:
• I wanted to get into holiday mode – nothing does that better than circumstances taking away your perceived control over life
• I wanted to check what niggles the Dakar had developed – discovered those in no uncertain terms. I realized the niggles were as much in my mental and toolkit preparation than in the bike itself. By the way, who has checked their rimtape lately?
• In addition I learned that solo trips are best done in areas with cellphone reception, and baboons are a pain in the arse.
• The whole thing was much better than sitting in front of TV.
• No accidents or close shaves, falls or slides – always a bonus.
And in closing, I realized that in 5 years I had never taken the front wheel off the Dakkie myself. I couldn’t find the torx tool, and phoned BMW to go and buy one if it wasn’t too expensive. Can you believe it, the guy looked on his system, and confidently told me that that size was not included in the toolkit!! To his credit, he said that didn’t make much sense at all. :imaposer:
