C
Camelman
Guest
Before you nail me with the 'This thread is worthless without pics', the video is at the end. I will get to narrating videos when I get better at making video's. For now, here's the RR followed by the video (28Mb). ;D
“I could turn back, sleep in Loeriesfontein, then explore more of the Cederberg tomorrow.” This is what I told myself as I lay under the only shade I could find. The bridge under the Sishen-Saldanha rail-road.
It was 14:30. My GPS said I still had 3 hours and 40 minutes to go before reaching Augrabies. The road I was on, was crap. I was taking a straight line to Augrabies, from Loeriesfontein, and had made the mistake of taking gravel from Piketberg as well. Parts of the roads from Piketberg to Trawal was new to me, and I had to deal with washed away and deeply rutted and sandy tracks for 2 hours. Having only left Cape Town at 06:30, and dealing with two road works stoppages on the N7 before Piketberg, my pace was way off, and my moving average was down to 76 km/h. I had to keep it 100km/h + to make Augrabies before nightfall.
And now as I lay under the bridge, I thought that I had bitten off more than I coould chew. I had had very little sleep the day before, and at 22:30 the evening before, I had only put my bike back together again after inspecting every bolt, and greasing all the axle's after I got it back from the 20k service.
So, as I lay there, with a OAT of 40 deg C +, a rail service vehicle pulled up. He asked if I was all right, then after hearing I was going to Augrabies, said I was nuts. After I said I was thinking of turning back, he agreed that would be for the best, then commented on how he had heard that the river was said to rise another three metres that day and evening.
That sealed it, if the okes, and girls on the Dakar can do 700km+ a day for 14 days, then I can do 750 a day as well for two days. So I sucked it up, and rode.
I reached a split in the road about 100km further, and the GPS showed I still had another 280km to Augrabies, and 190km if I took the left split to Pofadder. My fuel gauge was indicating half. My bike was using more juice due to the continues sand I was skiing over. I could see the bike was having it tough. I always ride on the rev counter, and always stick to 5000 RPM. That normally puts me smack on 120km/h True Speed on the GPS. But due to the sand, I was doing 108 indicated on the GPS, so my rear wheel was struggling to push the machine through the sand.
I was 50km into reserve, when I got to Pofadder. It was 16:00. There were three truck drivers chatting. I went over and we got talking. They had to stop as their tyres were overheating. The tar temperature was 45 deg C. That was bad for me. There was no quick gravel road to Augrabies. The only one would be a 60km detour. So I would have to stick to the N14. And then I found out that the gates close for entry at 17:00. This meant I would have to do 160km in one hour, on knobblies rated for 120km/h, on a 45 C road surface. Yeah, well. This was not going to happen.
So I pulled into the yellow lane, and did 90km/h all the way to Kakamas. I would overnight, then go see the waterfall the following day.
On entering Kakamas, I went to see the bridge. Sure enough it was closed and under more than a meter of water. The police water unit was ferrying locals across the more than a kilometre of water. Some kids were swimming in the shallows, and the coffee shop at the 'waterfront' was doing a booming trade. But I still had to find a place to sleep. One of the truckers, had said that he had double bunks in his truck, and if I couldn’t find any place to sleep, I could bunk with him. So if worst came to worst, then I would have to bunk with a trucker. Yeah, right. Don't even think it!
As I was calling a guest house, three bikes past me heading towards the Augrabies. A Super Ten leading and a Yamaha XTX and two BMW F800 GS's in tow. I waved and continued my search. I had no luck, and ended up at the hotel, which was packed to the rafters with tourists. So I sat in the bar, ate a burger and talked crap with the tourists, all from Gauteng and the Free State. All here to see the falls. And I still had no where to sleep. I had gotten a cell number from a local shop earlier for a guest house, and after calling this number, I was informed that they were full as well, but one guest did not pitch, and maybe I could get the room. At 20:00 she confirmed, that I could come over. As I was leaving the hotel, here comes three of the bikes I had seen previously. Also looking for a place to sleep. The hotel had just had a room go free. So two of the guys could take that. That left the one guy with the Super Ten to fend for himself. Being that he rides a Yamaha, which also meant that he could be trusted, I suggested we bunk together. The guest house I had found only had a double bed, but arranged a mattress for Dawid, and after setting up, we talked crap, and bikes till 22:30.
The next morning we were up at 05:00. We wanted to get to the gate before the flood of tourists woke up. And at 07:20 we were at the falls. The river was awesome. Sitting in the restaurant, the river was flowing only meters from me. There was a mist-like spray hanging over the area caused by the waterfall. Everyone was drenched as they entered. After having a quick breakfast I went to get some footage. And sure, I was drenched as well. Only the furtherest lookout points were still open, and just barely. The water was still rising, and we were walking aver water where usually there's only rock. The waterfall was causing a howling wind and driving spray. It was like standing in a Cape storm. The camera and I was drenched in seconds. One could not even look at the falls, such was the driving spray.
After spending a hour at the falls I had to leave for home. It was 09:00 and I still had 760km to go. My GPS has, as normal chosen the most direct and shortest route. I like it that way, and soon I was axle deep in sand, and wondering for the umpteenth time why I cannot overcome my aversion to any decent road!
And so my day would go. For the next 380 kilometres I had all roads thrown at me. From deep rutted jeep track to 60 kilometres of Boesmanland sand. Every-time I reached a gate, I would pray it would not be locked. Reaching my PNR (Point of no return), I prayed even harder that no gate would be locked, as I would not be able to return to a fuel station. For the past 3 hours I had seen no human being and all farm houses were empty.
Eventually after 260 kilometres I was passed by four trucks. This caused a couple of moments of stress, as I was trying to record this with the camera in my left hand, while navigating deep pockets of fesh-fesh and with zero visibility.
Four hours later I passed under the bridge I had lain under the day before. I was stoked that I had not given up. I had been privileged to experience natures might, and had ridden some of the coolest roads ever.
“I could turn back, sleep in Loeriesfontein, then explore more of the Cederberg tomorrow.” This is what I told myself as I lay under the only shade I could find. The bridge under the Sishen-Saldanha rail-road.
It was 14:30. My GPS said I still had 3 hours and 40 minutes to go before reaching Augrabies. The road I was on, was crap. I was taking a straight line to Augrabies, from Loeriesfontein, and had made the mistake of taking gravel from Piketberg as well. Parts of the roads from Piketberg to Trawal was new to me, and I had to deal with washed away and deeply rutted and sandy tracks for 2 hours. Having only left Cape Town at 06:30, and dealing with two road works stoppages on the N7 before Piketberg, my pace was way off, and my moving average was down to 76 km/h. I had to keep it 100km/h + to make Augrabies before nightfall.
And now as I lay under the bridge, I thought that I had bitten off more than I coould chew. I had had very little sleep the day before, and at 22:30 the evening before, I had only put my bike back together again after inspecting every bolt, and greasing all the axle's after I got it back from the 20k service.
So, as I lay there, with a OAT of 40 deg C +, a rail service vehicle pulled up. He asked if I was all right, then after hearing I was going to Augrabies, said I was nuts. After I said I was thinking of turning back, he agreed that would be for the best, then commented on how he had heard that the river was said to rise another three metres that day and evening.
That sealed it, if the okes, and girls on the Dakar can do 700km+ a day for 14 days, then I can do 750 a day as well for two days. So I sucked it up, and rode.
I reached a split in the road about 100km further, and the GPS showed I still had another 280km to Augrabies, and 190km if I took the left split to Pofadder. My fuel gauge was indicating half. My bike was using more juice due to the continues sand I was skiing over. I could see the bike was having it tough. I always ride on the rev counter, and always stick to 5000 RPM. That normally puts me smack on 120km/h True Speed on the GPS. But due to the sand, I was doing 108 indicated on the GPS, so my rear wheel was struggling to push the machine through the sand.
I was 50km into reserve, when I got to Pofadder. It was 16:00. There were three truck drivers chatting. I went over and we got talking. They had to stop as their tyres were overheating. The tar temperature was 45 deg C. That was bad for me. There was no quick gravel road to Augrabies. The only one would be a 60km detour. So I would have to stick to the N14. And then I found out that the gates close for entry at 17:00. This meant I would have to do 160km in one hour, on knobblies rated for 120km/h, on a 45 C road surface. Yeah, well. This was not going to happen.
So I pulled into the yellow lane, and did 90km/h all the way to Kakamas. I would overnight, then go see the waterfall the following day.
On entering Kakamas, I went to see the bridge. Sure enough it was closed and under more than a meter of water. The police water unit was ferrying locals across the more than a kilometre of water. Some kids were swimming in the shallows, and the coffee shop at the 'waterfront' was doing a booming trade. But I still had to find a place to sleep. One of the truckers, had said that he had double bunks in his truck, and if I couldn’t find any place to sleep, I could bunk with him. So if worst came to worst, then I would have to bunk with a trucker. Yeah, right. Don't even think it!
As I was calling a guest house, three bikes past me heading towards the Augrabies. A Super Ten leading and a Yamaha XTX and two BMW F800 GS's in tow. I waved and continued my search. I had no luck, and ended up at the hotel, which was packed to the rafters with tourists. So I sat in the bar, ate a burger and talked crap with the tourists, all from Gauteng and the Free State. All here to see the falls. And I still had no where to sleep. I had gotten a cell number from a local shop earlier for a guest house, and after calling this number, I was informed that they were full as well, but one guest did not pitch, and maybe I could get the room. At 20:00 she confirmed, that I could come over. As I was leaving the hotel, here comes three of the bikes I had seen previously. Also looking for a place to sleep. The hotel had just had a room go free. So two of the guys could take that. That left the one guy with the Super Ten to fend for himself. Being that he rides a Yamaha, which also meant that he could be trusted, I suggested we bunk together. The guest house I had found only had a double bed, but arranged a mattress for Dawid, and after setting up, we talked crap, and bikes till 22:30.
The next morning we were up at 05:00. We wanted to get to the gate before the flood of tourists woke up. And at 07:20 we were at the falls. The river was awesome. Sitting in the restaurant, the river was flowing only meters from me. There was a mist-like spray hanging over the area caused by the waterfall. Everyone was drenched as they entered. After having a quick breakfast I went to get some footage. And sure, I was drenched as well. Only the furtherest lookout points were still open, and just barely. The water was still rising, and we were walking aver water where usually there's only rock. The waterfall was causing a howling wind and driving spray. It was like standing in a Cape storm. The camera and I was drenched in seconds. One could not even look at the falls, such was the driving spray.
After spending a hour at the falls I had to leave for home. It was 09:00 and I still had 760km to go. My GPS has, as normal chosen the most direct and shortest route. I like it that way, and soon I was axle deep in sand, and wondering for the umpteenth time why I cannot overcome my aversion to any decent road!
And so my day would go. For the next 380 kilometres I had all roads thrown at me. From deep rutted jeep track to 60 kilometres of Boesmanland sand. Every-time I reached a gate, I would pray it would not be locked. Reaching my PNR (Point of no return), I prayed even harder that no gate would be locked, as I would not be able to return to a fuel station. For the past 3 hours I had seen no human being and all farm houses were empty.
Eventually after 260 kilometres I was passed by four trucks. This caused a couple of moments of stress, as I was trying to record this with the camera in my left hand, while navigating deep pockets of fesh-fesh and with zero visibility.
Four hours later I passed under the bridge I had lain under the day before. I was stoked that I had not given up. I had been privileged to experience natures might, and had ridden some of the coolest roads ever.
[flash=425,344]https://www.youtube.com/v/TLE2ruUSWtI?hl=en&fs=1[/flash]
