Rokie
Race Dog
“ Sorry mate, can’t make it anymore. That UK dude who left me his bike two years ago, is visiting . . .”
This was more or less the message I got from a buddy who was planning to ride with me that weekend (1 – 2 May 2010). The (very kind) oke who left his V-Strom with my bud (while on a world tour) decided that my Karoo riding weekend would be a good time to come and check out his long lost Suzi.
So my mate had to cancel his part in the Karoo ride. What he didn’t cancel (and I wish he had) was the Safari Half Marathon that he and is wife had entered us into against my will!! I decided I would still do both though. We never really had a clear plan for the ride – all we knew was that we would leave Wellington late Saturday morning and we would aim to be back in Somerset West by Sunday afternoon. We also had this email from another would-be ride mate that there was this pass between Touws River and Montagu – sounded cool. I checked out some of the Wilddog ride reports, to see if there was anything on the stretch between Ceres and Touws. The Matroosberg reports soon convinced me that I wasn’t quite up for such a heavy ride and that it was surrounded by too much tar. I was keen for some long dusty stretches with a few easy curves now and then.
I was invited to Newlands on Friday night (before the ride) and whatched the Stormers DEMOLISH the Crusaders – woohoo! I got back home at 11h30 after a sobering coffee at my sister’s house. By the time I’d done a few pieces of admin and packed and loaded the bike, it was 02h00. Not cool!!! – since I had to be in Wellington by 06h30 for the 07h00 race start, which meant leaving home at 05h30, which meant getting up at 05h00 . . . !
At 05h40 I headed out to Wellington. Not a bad little ride in the dark. Those dips between Somerset West and Stellenbosch really cool down, but luckily I was well dressed for the occasion.
So, after the (nasty-ass-piece-a-work) Safari run I dragged my stinky tired body into the saddle and set my sights on Ceres. The weather was nice and warm, but the South Easter really plucked me about a bit on that flat stretch before the Hermon turnoff. After that I cruised into some lovely curvy stuff through the mountains and into the fruit valley. I filled up with fuel – for body and bike – and decided to head off towards the Koue Bokkeveld where a friend has a fruit farm. Not only that, but I’ve travelled with him once or twice (by car) to their other farm in the “Ceres Karoo” where they take the sheep for the winter. I seemed to remember something about a road to Touws.
Prince Alfred Hamlet is always a treat and sets the scene for a good trip. It has that small town feeling and a very interesting mix of Saturday shoppers swarming the streets. After that comes Gydo Pass (bike pudding) with its spectacular views and rather unspectacular road surface. At the top, where I would have turned left to my friend’s fruit farm in the Witzenberg Valley, I started to look out for a road to the right – and sure enough – the Touws River turnoff showed up sooner than I expected. I was a bit disappointed to see that it was nicely tarred. I then seem to remember something on the forum about some road up there somewhere that was no longer gravel. I felt just a touch gatvol as I realised this must have been the one they were talking about. I was quite sure I remembered a gravel road from the years gone by.
But alas! To my delight I soon scored my first photo opportunity – my favourite road sign.
The first bit of gravel travel put an instant smile on my dial – as is always the case! Lovely wide open spaces flanked by mountains on either side. It felt like I was having my share of some “forbidden fruit” – like these wild figs on the side of the road:
Unfortunately both the return of the tar and the turnoff to Touws came too quickly to my liking. Or was it fortunately? Because it made me decide to keep going straight onto more gravel, thinking, “surely there will be another turnoff to Touws a bit further along.”
This was the start of adventure cruising heaven. The wide open spaces just grew wider and wider and the road seemed to draw me in like one of those blurry things you stare at and then it becomes a 3D picture. I just cruised and cruised through the plains of pure ‘plaaspad’ pleasure! So much so that I had long forgotten that I had a destination and just absorbed the journey for what it was. It was only when I reached this sign that I realised I no longer had any hopes of another turnoff to Touws:
By now the ‘wide open’ had become very wide and very open. Everything started to feel a million miles away. This is what these kinds of rides are meant for – whether weekend or weeks-on-end, whether solo or ‘saamry’ – this is it! No worries, no woes. No crowds, no crime. No boss, no buildings (almost).
Nothing but biking bliss. Even the last reminder of civilisation (North-South power lines) disappeared as the road swerved towards more of the empty spaces that had so quickly become my travelling companion.
Then the road turned away from the sun a bit and I headed through some mountains . . .
Looking at a map afterwards, I realised that there were a couple of opportunities to turn right and get to Touws River a bit quicker. I remember one potential turn off in particular. I could see the road heading straight for the mountains, but I thought it was just an access road to a distant farm.
Soon enough I reached a tarred T-junction and I had to choose between Sutherland and Matjiesfontein. Maybe one day I’ll visit Sutherland, hopefully by gravel. The tar took me across the N1 into the legendary time warp that is Matjiesfontein.
There were a few locals at the Laird’s Arms (the pub on the side of the Lord Milner Hotel) where I was given free background info on the hotel, the town and its residents by the super impressive, kind and professional bar tender called Ben Herder (Afrikaans for shepherd) – a true gentleman. Another local gentleman gave me some directions about the stretch between Touws River and Montagu. He mentioned that pass I’d read about in that email saying, “You can’t get lost. Wherever you go, you’ll end up in Montagu.” The Rome of the Little Karoo?
I cruised onward to Touws River (on the N1) and aimed for the nearest shop. After another fuel stop (again: body and bike) I headed out of town before sitting down to devour what was sold to me as an “Incredible Burger Pie.” There happened to be a fork in the road within less than 10 km from town and I determined that my mind would be made up about which one to take by the time the pie was history.
tbc . . .
This was more or less the message I got from a buddy who was planning to ride with me that weekend (1 – 2 May 2010). The (very kind) oke who left his V-Strom with my bud (while on a world tour) decided that my Karoo riding weekend would be a good time to come and check out his long lost Suzi.
So my mate had to cancel his part in the Karoo ride. What he didn’t cancel (and I wish he had) was the Safari Half Marathon that he and is wife had entered us into against my will!! I decided I would still do both though. We never really had a clear plan for the ride – all we knew was that we would leave Wellington late Saturday morning and we would aim to be back in Somerset West by Sunday afternoon. We also had this email from another would-be ride mate that there was this pass between Touws River and Montagu – sounded cool. I checked out some of the Wilddog ride reports, to see if there was anything on the stretch between Ceres and Touws. The Matroosberg reports soon convinced me that I wasn’t quite up for such a heavy ride and that it was surrounded by too much tar. I was keen for some long dusty stretches with a few easy curves now and then.
I was invited to Newlands on Friday night (before the ride) and whatched the Stormers DEMOLISH the Crusaders – woohoo! I got back home at 11h30 after a sobering coffee at my sister’s house. By the time I’d done a few pieces of admin and packed and loaded the bike, it was 02h00. Not cool!!! – since I had to be in Wellington by 06h30 for the 07h00 race start, which meant leaving home at 05h30, which meant getting up at 05h00 . . . !
At 05h40 I headed out to Wellington. Not a bad little ride in the dark. Those dips between Somerset West and Stellenbosch really cool down, but luckily I was well dressed for the occasion.
So, after the (nasty-ass-piece-a-work) Safari run I dragged my stinky tired body into the saddle and set my sights on Ceres. The weather was nice and warm, but the South Easter really plucked me about a bit on that flat stretch before the Hermon turnoff. After that I cruised into some lovely curvy stuff through the mountains and into the fruit valley. I filled up with fuel – for body and bike – and decided to head off towards the Koue Bokkeveld where a friend has a fruit farm. Not only that, but I’ve travelled with him once or twice (by car) to their other farm in the “Ceres Karoo” where they take the sheep for the winter. I seemed to remember something about a road to Touws.
Prince Alfred Hamlet is always a treat and sets the scene for a good trip. It has that small town feeling and a very interesting mix of Saturday shoppers swarming the streets. After that comes Gydo Pass (bike pudding) with its spectacular views and rather unspectacular road surface. At the top, where I would have turned left to my friend’s fruit farm in the Witzenberg Valley, I started to look out for a road to the right – and sure enough – the Touws River turnoff showed up sooner than I expected. I was a bit disappointed to see that it was nicely tarred. I then seem to remember something on the forum about some road up there somewhere that was no longer gravel. I felt just a touch gatvol as I realised this must have been the one they were talking about. I was quite sure I remembered a gravel road from the years gone by.
But alas! To my delight I soon scored my first photo opportunity – my favourite road sign.
The first bit of gravel travel put an instant smile on my dial – as is always the case! Lovely wide open spaces flanked by mountains on either side. It felt like I was having my share of some “forbidden fruit” – like these wild figs on the side of the road:
Unfortunately both the return of the tar and the turnoff to Touws came too quickly to my liking. Or was it fortunately? Because it made me decide to keep going straight onto more gravel, thinking, “surely there will be another turnoff to Touws a bit further along.”
This was the start of adventure cruising heaven. The wide open spaces just grew wider and wider and the road seemed to draw me in like one of those blurry things you stare at and then it becomes a 3D picture. I just cruised and cruised through the plains of pure ‘plaaspad’ pleasure! So much so that I had long forgotten that I had a destination and just absorbed the journey for what it was. It was only when I reached this sign that I realised I no longer had any hopes of another turnoff to Touws:
By now the ‘wide open’ had become very wide and very open. Everything started to feel a million miles away. This is what these kinds of rides are meant for – whether weekend or weeks-on-end, whether solo or ‘saamry’ – this is it! No worries, no woes. No crowds, no crime. No boss, no buildings (almost).
Nothing but biking bliss. Even the last reminder of civilisation (North-South power lines) disappeared as the road swerved towards more of the empty spaces that had so quickly become my travelling companion.
Then the road turned away from the sun a bit and I headed through some mountains . . .
Looking at a map afterwards, I realised that there were a couple of opportunities to turn right and get to Touws River a bit quicker. I remember one potential turn off in particular. I could see the road heading straight for the mountains, but I thought it was just an access road to a distant farm.
Soon enough I reached a tarred T-junction and I had to choose between Sutherland and Matjiesfontein. Maybe one day I’ll visit Sutherland, hopefully by gravel. The tar took me across the N1 into the legendary time warp that is Matjiesfontein.
There were a few locals at the Laird’s Arms (the pub on the side of the Lord Milner Hotel) where I was given free background info on the hotel, the town and its residents by the super impressive, kind and professional bar tender called Ben Herder (Afrikaans for shepherd) – a true gentleman. Another local gentleman gave me some directions about the stretch between Touws River and Montagu. He mentioned that pass I’d read about in that email saying, “You can’t get lost. Wherever you go, you’ll end up in Montagu.” The Rome of the Little Karoo?
I cruised onward to Touws River (on the N1) and aimed for the nearest shop. After another fuel stop (again: body and bike) I headed out of town before sitting down to devour what was sold to me as an “Incredible Burger Pie.” There happened to be a fork in the road within less than 10 km from town and I determined that my mind would be made up about which one to take by the time the pie was history.
tbc . . .
