caconcepts
Race Dog
PRICELESS…
They say isolation brings a deeper understanding of oneself. Brings one closer to oneself. Providing us with a deeper understanding of who we are. Therefore, I set out to find out who I am, hoping I would come back and at least like this person. I chose a helmet, a GS1200, a 1400 km road, a few interesting places and a few priceless moments for my isolation therapy.
In isolation, you quickly realize that there are multiple personalities that exist within you. For this exercise, we call him Jack. There is Adventurous Jack or JackA and Cautious Jack or JackC. In the middle is JackB, this is who you are and you are constantly, subconsciously mediating between JackA and JackC. There is also a JackD, but he is a maniac and also a British comedian who was not required for this trip.
Billy Connolly once said he was having isolation therapy when he suddenly thought. "I wanna go to Japan". Then he thought, “No, I don't want to go to Japan". And then he though "Who the f..k is this guy is who wants to go Japan". This is pretty much what happens in isolation.
JackA said we must go up Sani Pass. JackC said it was a particularly stupid idea because we had Anakee's on the bike, panniers and were going to attempt it alone. JackB posted a question on this forum wrt the above and took advice from some members that maybe it was not the brightest idea, but not the worst idea, ever, either.
Isolation Therapy Session 1: The Beginning.
Leave JHB at six in the morning and head to Harrismith via some back roads, nothing too hectic as we had some miles to make up if we wanted to get to the Himeville Hotel before all the Fox lager was consumed by the locals. The Spar in Harrismith always has fresh bread in the bakery. Whenever I have stopped there, a new batch comes out of the oven.
So I grab six rolls, a packed of tomato flavoured crinkle cut chips, some biltong and a half litre milk. Make a quick chip chow, extra biltong, in the car park and wash down with milk. Take heartburn remedy and back on the bike to Mount Paul. Paul is not a local by the way; it is a spectacular koppie just outside Harrismith on the way to QwaQwa. Mounting Paul turns out to be quite simple and truly worth every drop of sweat. The incline is stupendous and views even more so.
Pass Sterkfontein dam, down Olivier’s Hoek pass. Avoid some animals and locals through Bergville and Winterton and back on the N3 to Mooi Rivier. Customary stop at the biltong shop at Mooi rivier and off to Nottingham Road. During this session JackA keeps wanting to sing “Thunderstruck”, JackC is intent on trying to remember all the words to “Knowing me, Knowing You” and JackB is trying to figure out exactly what “I’ll buy you one more frozen orange juice” actually means.
Isolation Therapy Session 2: Really Getting to know yourself.
Rain was predicted for most of Saturday along parts of our route and snowfall was expected on the Drakensberg and at Sani on Friday evening. JackA has suggested we hook a right at Nottingham Road on the Lower Lotheni road and head towards Sani. JackC has some reservations about the rain, mud and snow. We tell JackC to stop being such a wet rag and head towards lower Lotheni. What follows is possibly one of the most majestic portions of road in the country. Views a plenty, gorgeous gravel tracks and oodles of twisties, bridges and streams.
The local children greet on mass. We all know they want sweets and money but secretly we all hear them chanting “Go adventurous crusader man on loud horse and funny head, go and conquer, it is your destiny……”. Every corner brings a new landscape, every bend a new understanding of what rider and machine are capable of. At this point JackA and JackC are having an argument whether the weight should be on the inside or outside pegs when cornering on gravel. I try both and come to the conclusion that I am a gravel riding god. I am unstoppable in my quest to find new roads and to find the true me.
I come around another spectacular bend to find about 20 hunting dogs in the road. Reality check…….I suddenly realise I am not Alfie Cox, more like his dyslectic cousin, Floppy Cock. Gravel road god status removed, proceed to level 1, and do not collect R200.
We eventually reach the tar road again and turn right to Sani Pass. What follows is a magnificent tar road to rival any European road that I have had the privilege of riding until it unceremoniously disappears heading to the border. We have a quick ciggie at the border and head over to the Himeville Arms. Turns out the locals got snot-flying drunk on Friday and there was literally 1 pint of Fox’s Lager left in the barrel. Not the best beer I have ever had but it certainly is moist and clears the dust out of a very dry throat. Chase the fox down the hole with a few of the Saaz’s Hops finest and off to bed.
Isolation Therapy Session 3: In Conclusion.
Woke up at 3 o’clock on Sunday morning because two cats were either shagging or fighting. All I know is that was no cuddling afterwards. We each have a coffee and start to discuss the day ahead. JackA says let’s have a shower and leave, adventure waits for no man. JackC has reservations, again, about riding in the dark and the perils found on all South African roads. He suggests we leave at first light, which is around six. We come to a compromise and decide five is perfect, not too dangerous and not too adventurous.
Himeville to Underberg on to Bulwer and before you know it Howick is in sight. Bits of fog, slow riding and still a heleva lot of fun. We turn on to the N3 and head towards Durban. Turn off at Hillcrest and head towards the honourable ex’s house. What greets me is the number 1 true reason for living. My three beautiful, biological children. Emma, Madison and Luke.
This trip had two very important goals. The first was to see my son play rugby and the second was to have some meaningful conversation with myself. My boy is playing three games starting at 12:00. It is now 8:00 and he is fully kitted, mouth guard and all. I say hello to the ex and her meaningful other. All the kids want to show me things so we spend the next 2 hours looking at homework, old photos and listening to Madi play the violin. Luke is rushed off to rugby and I let him know I will see him there. I take the girls for breakfast. The sun is warm, the food is good and all three Jack’s are content with life.
Last kisses and hugs to the girls and off to Queensburgh to go see some U8 rugby. Arrive just in time and watch my little boy play in his first game. A sport he is not fond of, he effing lives for it. He is a wealth of statistical data on scores and rugby info. It is no wonder however, seeing as his father is one of the finest players ever to grace the field of a pretty average model C school, B team…..
They win all three games in the blistering hot afternoon sun. My boy, my hero. I give him encouragement, tell him how proud I am of him, and leave him to celebrate with his mates. Lots of kisses and hugs and Daddy has to go, again. I have not been able to cry on the outside since I was about 14. However, I can weep on the inside like a small child who dropped an ice cream.
The three of us kit up and head out towards the M5, we have to make Van Reenen before nightfall. The mood is very somber and not much talking is happening. The ride back is not spectacular, the roads are busy and too many twatwaffles are practicing dangerous overtaking manoeuvres for my liking.
The rest of the trip is just getting home. The N3 hardly requires a report, we have all been there and done that trip. Van Reenen is a welcome sleepover. I order at the bar and go sit in the smoking lounge to reflect on the day. Great sadness combined with stupendous jubilation. I saw my boy score a try and smoke some youngster into touch. I had breakfast with my girls and found out that I am at peace with who and what I am.
Accommodation = R640.
Petrol = R1078.
Food & Drinks = R800.
Spending time with an old friend (JackB), Seeing some of the best our country has to offer, Having a surprise breakfast with my girls and seeing my boy’s face, doing what he loves most…….PRICELESS.
They say isolation brings a deeper understanding of oneself. Brings one closer to oneself. Providing us with a deeper understanding of who we are. Therefore, I set out to find out who I am, hoping I would come back and at least like this person. I chose a helmet, a GS1200, a 1400 km road, a few interesting places and a few priceless moments for my isolation therapy.
In isolation, you quickly realize that there are multiple personalities that exist within you. For this exercise, we call him Jack. There is Adventurous Jack or JackA and Cautious Jack or JackC. In the middle is JackB, this is who you are and you are constantly, subconsciously mediating between JackA and JackC. There is also a JackD, but he is a maniac and also a British comedian who was not required for this trip.
Billy Connolly once said he was having isolation therapy when he suddenly thought. "I wanna go to Japan". Then he thought, “No, I don't want to go to Japan". And then he though "Who the f..k is this guy is who wants to go Japan". This is pretty much what happens in isolation.
JackA said we must go up Sani Pass. JackC said it was a particularly stupid idea because we had Anakee's on the bike, panniers and were going to attempt it alone. JackB posted a question on this forum wrt the above and took advice from some members that maybe it was not the brightest idea, but not the worst idea, ever, either.
Isolation Therapy Session 1: The Beginning.
Leave JHB at six in the morning and head to Harrismith via some back roads, nothing too hectic as we had some miles to make up if we wanted to get to the Himeville Hotel before all the Fox lager was consumed by the locals. The Spar in Harrismith always has fresh bread in the bakery. Whenever I have stopped there, a new batch comes out of the oven.
So I grab six rolls, a packed of tomato flavoured crinkle cut chips, some biltong and a half litre milk. Make a quick chip chow, extra biltong, in the car park and wash down with milk. Take heartburn remedy and back on the bike to Mount Paul. Paul is not a local by the way; it is a spectacular koppie just outside Harrismith on the way to QwaQwa. Mounting Paul turns out to be quite simple and truly worth every drop of sweat. The incline is stupendous and views even more so.
Pass Sterkfontein dam, down Olivier’s Hoek pass. Avoid some animals and locals through Bergville and Winterton and back on the N3 to Mooi Rivier. Customary stop at the biltong shop at Mooi rivier and off to Nottingham Road. During this session JackA keeps wanting to sing “Thunderstruck”, JackC is intent on trying to remember all the words to “Knowing me, Knowing You” and JackB is trying to figure out exactly what “I’ll buy you one more frozen orange juice” actually means.
Isolation Therapy Session 2: Really Getting to know yourself.
Rain was predicted for most of Saturday along parts of our route and snowfall was expected on the Drakensberg and at Sani on Friday evening. JackA has suggested we hook a right at Nottingham Road on the Lower Lotheni road and head towards Sani. JackC has some reservations about the rain, mud and snow. We tell JackC to stop being such a wet rag and head towards lower Lotheni. What follows is possibly one of the most majestic portions of road in the country. Views a plenty, gorgeous gravel tracks and oodles of twisties, bridges and streams.
The local children greet on mass. We all know they want sweets and money but secretly we all hear them chanting “Go adventurous crusader man on loud horse and funny head, go and conquer, it is your destiny……”. Every corner brings a new landscape, every bend a new understanding of what rider and machine are capable of. At this point JackA and JackC are having an argument whether the weight should be on the inside or outside pegs when cornering on gravel. I try both and come to the conclusion that I am a gravel riding god. I am unstoppable in my quest to find new roads and to find the true me.
I come around another spectacular bend to find about 20 hunting dogs in the road. Reality check…….I suddenly realise I am not Alfie Cox, more like his dyslectic cousin, Floppy Cock. Gravel road god status removed, proceed to level 1, and do not collect R200.
We eventually reach the tar road again and turn right to Sani Pass. What follows is a magnificent tar road to rival any European road that I have had the privilege of riding until it unceremoniously disappears heading to the border. We have a quick ciggie at the border and head over to the Himeville Arms. Turns out the locals got snot-flying drunk on Friday and there was literally 1 pint of Fox’s Lager left in the barrel. Not the best beer I have ever had but it certainly is moist and clears the dust out of a very dry throat. Chase the fox down the hole with a few of the Saaz’s Hops finest and off to bed.
Isolation Therapy Session 3: In Conclusion.
Woke up at 3 o’clock on Sunday morning because two cats were either shagging or fighting. All I know is that was no cuddling afterwards. We each have a coffee and start to discuss the day ahead. JackA says let’s have a shower and leave, adventure waits for no man. JackC has reservations, again, about riding in the dark and the perils found on all South African roads. He suggests we leave at first light, which is around six. We come to a compromise and decide five is perfect, not too dangerous and not too adventurous.
Himeville to Underberg on to Bulwer and before you know it Howick is in sight. Bits of fog, slow riding and still a heleva lot of fun. We turn on to the N3 and head towards Durban. Turn off at Hillcrest and head towards the honourable ex’s house. What greets me is the number 1 true reason for living. My three beautiful, biological children. Emma, Madison and Luke.
This trip had two very important goals. The first was to see my son play rugby and the second was to have some meaningful conversation with myself. My boy is playing three games starting at 12:00. It is now 8:00 and he is fully kitted, mouth guard and all. I say hello to the ex and her meaningful other. All the kids want to show me things so we spend the next 2 hours looking at homework, old photos and listening to Madi play the violin. Luke is rushed off to rugby and I let him know I will see him there. I take the girls for breakfast. The sun is warm, the food is good and all three Jack’s are content with life.
Last kisses and hugs to the girls and off to Queensburgh to go see some U8 rugby. Arrive just in time and watch my little boy play in his first game. A sport he is not fond of, he effing lives for it. He is a wealth of statistical data on scores and rugby info. It is no wonder however, seeing as his father is one of the finest players ever to grace the field of a pretty average model C school, B team…..
They win all three games in the blistering hot afternoon sun. My boy, my hero. I give him encouragement, tell him how proud I am of him, and leave him to celebrate with his mates. Lots of kisses and hugs and Daddy has to go, again. I have not been able to cry on the outside since I was about 14. However, I can weep on the inside like a small child who dropped an ice cream.
The three of us kit up and head out towards the M5, we have to make Van Reenen before nightfall. The mood is very somber and not much talking is happening. The ride back is not spectacular, the roads are busy and too many twatwaffles are practicing dangerous overtaking manoeuvres for my liking.
The rest of the trip is just getting home. The N3 hardly requires a report, we have all been there and done that trip. Van Reenen is a welcome sleepover. I order at the bar and go sit in the smoking lounge to reflect on the day. Great sadness combined with stupendous jubilation. I saw my boy score a try and smoke some youngster into touch. I had breakfast with my girls and found out that I am at peace with who and what I am.
Accommodation = R640.
Petrol = R1078.
Food & Drinks = R800.
Spending time with an old friend (JackB), Seeing some of the best our country has to offer, Having a surprise breakfast with my girls and seeing my boy’s face, doing what he loves most…….PRICELESS.
