LostDOG
Race Dog
Solo Soul Food.
So it was that I got no takers to ride a bit of a nostalgic route with me, and perhaps it was a good thing, else I possibly wouldnâ??t have got as much out of the experience as what I did.
Everyone, for different reasons, wants to go back and see places that they lived in, or spent time in their past. My father worked on mines all his adult life, thus my childhood was one of frequent moving and remote locations. I loved the experiences, and that â??nomadâ? type of life is perhaps the biggest driving force for my insatiable need to find adventure.
I was born in a place called Penge. It was an asbestos mine, but has been closed for a number of years now, probably late eighties. We carried on living in the area (say 100km radius) until I had finished my first year in high-school. I went back once to visit some mates in 1986, but didnâ??t go back to Penge at that stage. So I hadnâ??t been back to the area in general for about 20 years, and not back to Penge for more like 30 years.
I left at 06H00 on Friday the 4th January. It rained the night before, but ever the optimist I thought it would follow the trend of the previous few days and clear up soon. I was wrong, and as with most of my trips I had rain pretty much the whole time. My route stayed on the edge of the moving storm over Pretoria, but once I got past Mamalodi, it became apparent that I should don some water retarding gear.
I worked my way through the landscape between Mamalodi and Loskop Dam avoiding bitumen at all costs, like a good DS rider should. I must add that due to the mud monster, his close family and distant relatives included, I almost abandoned the planned route and opted for tar, but, alas my sense of adventure won again and I stayed on tracks that will make any adventurer smile like a child.
The good rains that weâ??ve been experiencing of late have done the areaâ??s dams some good. Both the Loskop Dam and the Arabie Dam are flowing over their weirs.
After the Arabie Dam, and some Tar between Groblersdal and Marble Hall, I decided to take a break and eat something. My wife had packed a couple of sarmies for me, or so I thought. Upon opening the lunch box I was surprised to find that it contained a whole lot of other yummy goodies which a hard-man-of-Africa like me would never think of packing. I am eternally grateful for her understanding of my need for riding.
Our country has a lot of poverty and it does concern me deeply, but one thing that I can say about the folks that live in those neck-of-the-woods is that they canâ??t complain about the view from their stoep.
I never imagined it whilst planning the ride, but was incredibly surprised at the views in this area. That surprise turned into something different, for which I have no words, when I happened upon â??Bobbejaanskop Passâ?. This pass is awesome.
The scenery remained incredible, but due to rain and my need to make better time, I didnâ??t take many more pics.
I finally came to the â??poortâ? that leads to Penge. The memories started.
By the time I reached the house where we lived, I was close to tears. The effect it had on me was more that I expected. Not the fact that things have basically gone to ruin, but more the memories of a time of my life which were now coming back in vivid images. Images that my mind had hidden for a while.
My two-wheeled adventuring started in this street â?? I learned to ride a bike here. I still remember my Uncle Derekâ??s voice behind me, running and holding the bike up. The first time I went solo, I asked him to go faster, and when he didnâ??t answer I realised he had left the bike. I promptly fell, but was ecstatic and rode back to him without assistance. (or at least thatâ??s how I remember it).
I rode through what is left of Penge and took a few pictures. I decided however not to take pictures of everything that I suddenly started remembering, since the images from my memory are better and I want them to remain so.
After eating more of my lunch and drinking the beer that was hidden below the sarmies, I again donned my rain gear and set off to Burgersfort. I hit the mother of all storms and since I didnâ??t want to stop, I took off my spectacles (Iâ??m not as blind as a bat) and rode through it. Viz was probably 20m. Cattle and other livestock stood in the road â?? why I donâ??t know. Thankfully I got through unscathed.
I went to primary school in Burgersfort. Afrikaans came quickly in standard 1 when nobody speaks English! The school has changed but not as dramatically as Penge.
It was nice to meet the new principal and chat about the area. He also informed me that the same friend that I visited in â??86 was still around. I met up with Frans and his family and was welcomed like a lost son. I had such a good time that evening and the following day, catching up and reminiscing that I only managed to get away by 12H30, and headed for home.
The rain was all around me, but in contrast to the previous day, I never had to put rain gear on. Again, I never changed from my planned route, but had to really whip â??Silverâ? to get home in time to assist my wife with parental duties during â??Hell Hourâ?.
Iâ??m LostDOG, but slowly Iâ??m finding myself again.
So it was that I got no takers to ride a bit of a nostalgic route with me, and perhaps it was a good thing, else I possibly wouldnâ??t have got as much out of the experience as what I did.
Everyone, for different reasons, wants to go back and see places that they lived in, or spent time in their past. My father worked on mines all his adult life, thus my childhood was one of frequent moving and remote locations. I loved the experiences, and that â??nomadâ? type of life is perhaps the biggest driving force for my insatiable need to find adventure.
I was born in a place called Penge. It was an asbestos mine, but has been closed for a number of years now, probably late eighties. We carried on living in the area (say 100km radius) until I had finished my first year in high-school. I went back once to visit some mates in 1986, but didnâ??t go back to Penge at that stage. So I hadnâ??t been back to the area in general for about 20 years, and not back to Penge for more like 30 years.
I left at 06H00 on Friday the 4th January. It rained the night before, but ever the optimist I thought it would follow the trend of the previous few days and clear up soon. I was wrong, and as with most of my trips I had rain pretty much the whole time. My route stayed on the edge of the moving storm over Pretoria, but once I got past Mamalodi, it became apparent that I should don some water retarding gear.
I worked my way through the landscape between Mamalodi and Loskop Dam avoiding bitumen at all costs, like a good DS rider should. I must add that due to the mud monster, his close family and distant relatives included, I almost abandoned the planned route and opted for tar, but, alas my sense of adventure won again and I stayed on tracks that will make any adventurer smile like a child.
The good rains that weâ??ve been experiencing of late have done the areaâ??s dams some good. Both the Loskop Dam and the Arabie Dam are flowing over their weirs.
After the Arabie Dam, and some Tar between Groblersdal and Marble Hall, I decided to take a break and eat something. My wife had packed a couple of sarmies for me, or so I thought. Upon opening the lunch box I was surprised to find that it contained a whole lot of other yummy goodies which a hard-man-of-Africa like me would never think of packing. I am eternally grateful for her understanding of my need for riding.
Our country has a lot of poverty and it does concern me deeply, but one thing that I can say about the folks that live in those neck-of-the-woods is that they canâ??t complain about the view from their stoep.
I never imagined it whilst planning the ride, but was incredibly surprised at the views in this area. That surprise turned into something different, for which I have no words, when I happened upon â??Bobbejaanskop Passâ?. This pass is awesome.
The scenery remained incredible, but due to rain and my need to make better time, I didnâ??t take many more pics.
I finally came to the â??poortâ? that leads to Penge. The memories started.
By the time I reached the house where we lived, I was close to tears. The effect it had on me was more that I expected. Not the fact that things have basically gone to ruin, but more the memories of a time of my life which were now coming back in vivid images. Images that my mind had hidden for a while.
My two-wheeled adventuring started in this street â?? I learned to ride a bike here. I still remember my Uncle Derekâ??s voice behind me, running and holding the bike up. The first time I went solo, I asked him to go faster, and when he didnâ??t answer I realised he had left the bike. I promptly fell, but was ecstatic and rode back to him without assistance. (or at least thatâ??s how I remember it).
I rode through what is left of Penge and took a few pictures. I decided however not to take pictures of everything that I suddenly started remembering, since the images from my memory are better and I want them to remain so.
After eating more of my lunch and drinking the beer that was hidden below the sarmies, I again donned my rain gear and set off to Burgersfort. I hit the mother of all storms and since I didnâ??t want to stop, I took off my spectacles (Iâ??m not as blind as a bat) and rode through it. Viz was probably 20m. Cattle and other livestock stood in the road â?? why I donâ??t know. Thankfully I got through unscathed.
I went to primary school in Burgersfort. Afrikaans came quickly in standard 1 when nobody speaks English! The school has changed but not as dramatically as Penge.
It was nice to meet the new principal and chat about the area. He also informed me that the same friend that I visited in â??86 was still around. I met up with Frans and his family and was welcomed like a lost son. I had such a good time that evening and the following day, catching up and reminiscing that I only managed to get away by 12H30, and headed for home.
The rain was all around me, but in contrast to the previous day, I never had to put rain gear on. Again, I never changed from my planned route, but had to really whip â??Silverâ? to get home in time to assist my wife with parental duties during â??Hell Hourâ?.
Iâ??m LostDOG, but slowly Iâ??m finding myself again.
