MrBig
Grey Hound
We didnâ??t have any definite plans.
We just packed the bike and set off early one Saturday morning in the direction of East London.
This was not supposed to be any sort of hardcore trip.
Just a run of the mill ride to somewhere different.
The roads were quiet and we made excellent way â?? passing through Knysna around noon. Looking onward the skies changed and rain seemed imminent. I dearly wanted to ride Bloukrans Pass for a change and pleaded with the weather gods to smile on us â?? which they did. This time.
Back on the N2 we decided to not push our luck and pulled into Stormsriver Village. For some reason it always seem to rain there! Unfortunately being Saturday afternoon the place is a ghost town. We managed to arrange some â??decentâ?? accommodation and scoped out the only restaurant (for later) â?? but there and then decided against it. Somehow we didnâ??t feel like the â??Boerekosâ? which get served up to the hordes of adventure seeking European backpackers in the area.
With most of the afternoon to spare we took a drive to the Stormsriver Mouth where the sun was out (for a while) and took a drive around. If the weather was better I would have loved to pitch the tent here. What an awesome camping spot! Not that cheap though as camping spots go.
A massive fire destroyed parts of the hiking trails in the area and as a result the route to the suspension bridge across the Storms River was inaccessible. We hung around enjoying the sunset and stocked up on Tsitsikamma water.
As luck would have it the 15km drive back to Stormsriver Village had to be done in a torrential downpour â?? leaving me struggling to see ahead through the tinted visor. At least we were smart enough to put rain liners in â?? phew! For some strange reason I decided it â??unnecessaryâ?? to bring my winter (read waterproof) gloves on the trip. A stupid decision that came back to bite me in the arse for the duration of the trip.
The rest of the evening was spent chatting to dodgy solo backpackers and some watching impromptu gumboot dances by local kids.
Still terribly wet out the next morning we took the very quiet N2 and sped up past PE. Van Stadens Pass was closed due to road works on the N2 so that was a bit of a letdown. As we havenâ??t yet decided what our destination would be we turned off onto the R72 towards Kenton On Sea.
The weather was lovely there and we bummed on the beach for an hour or so.
From there it was a straight & fast line to Cintsa with Buccaneers as the accommodation choice. The first taste of Wild Coast road was forgiving and Cintsa proved to be a superb location with a beautiful beach and friendly people.
However, we decided to move on to Kei Mouth the next day. It was just a hop and a skip there â?? to find the little town virtually empty.
Just the way we like it. We found a great place to stay right on the beach and promptly decided to spend 2 days there.
The beach was totally deserted and proved the right medicine for tired butts.
Next day we walked(!) all along the coast to Morganâ??s Bay. Some local told us itâ??s around an hourâ??s â??strollâ??. Yeah right! We didnâ??t see another soul for the 3 hours it took us to get there.
Totally desolate and unbelievably amazing scenery. Had lunch at Morgan's Bay Hotel and contemplated hitching a ride to Kei Mouth â?? but opted for a â??shortcutâ?? back. I checked afterwards and the route we did totaled 14 kmâ??s.
The â??problemâ?? with the Wild Coast (as opposed to Cape Town) is that the sun rises over the sea and sets inland. Troublesome to us Capies whoâ??s used to watching the red balloon making its way down with a frosty in hand. The only way is to see the sun over the ocean is to get up really early. And replace the drink with a coffee. Not the same somehow.
We left Kei Mouth and were the first to get ferried across the river for the morning. It was windstil and apart from the slippery deck it was a lot of fun.
We followed a winding road past Qolora Mouth deeper into the country. It was getting warmer by the minute. We hit tar at some point and a bored traffic cop pulled me over just to have a look at the bike. He politely pointed out: â??No sir, itâ??s not warm itâ??s hotâ?.
We decided on the turnoff towards Coffee Bay and found the worst tarred road Iâ??ve seen for a while. Pothole dodging became a diversion as rapidly as the numbers of the livestock increased roadside. Eighty Kayâ??s of that brought us to Coffee Bay. At last! Some gravel. But wait...
Between Coffee Bay & Hole-In-The-Wall is the worst 10 kmâ??s of gravel I have EVER seen. Not difficult or anything. Just plain BAD. Rocky and bumpy all the way. Horrible stuff. Go ride it and see for yourself. Add some panniers and a pillion for extra fun!
Coffee Bay sucked. The place has dodgy written all over it. I remember a completely different place when I was there last (15 years ago). So we decided it can only be better at Hole-In-The-Wall.
And it was. Well sort off. At Hole-In-The-Wall your accommodation choice is pretty limited. Thereâ??s no shops and the people are all a bit â??oddâ??.
Here and there the signs of development starts to show. A huge board proclaiming Hole-In-The-Wallâ??s first exclusive housing estate is but one.
Even though it takes some getting used to growing a posse whenever you venture somewhere on foot - the breathtaking scenery and sheer untamed nature of the surrounds more than make up for it.
Although none of the kids trailing us around ever asks for money directly there is a lot of â??servicesâ?? and goods on offer. Necklaces made from small shells, guiding to good viewing and fishing spots, fresh seafood etc. Funny thing was that when I offered some silver to the couple of girls walking around with us (guiding), they seemed confused as to what exactly to do with it.
On the subject of the local kids. The majority of younger kids were totally awestruck with the sight of the fully loaded AT. Lisa claims itâ??s because we sounded like the â??Tinker Manâ? rattling down the road coming to repair the pots and kettles. Some hesitated to wave but became very enthusiastic once we extend a friendly hand. Some danced and some pulled faces. The older they got the less friendly they became.
Apart from one or two older girls(!) and a vicious little toddler who all tried to though stones at us we always felt safe traveling the road. (The other road users is a different story).
We spent a day traveling further up the coast, hanging out at Ndumbi beach for as long as we could before headed back towards Hole-In-The-Wall.
The weather predictions for the coming days looked ominous and we decided to turn south the next day and see how far we could get â?? chill a day there and continue home the next.
The main route (N2) is generally in a great condition and for the most part fun to ride. The road builders thought it necessary to include plenty of passing points for most of it. This proved a wise choice as the majority of drivers in that area use a different set of road rules than what Iâ??m used to.
Their rules go something like: Small yields to big, or else. If I can go faster than you I will pass you - now. Go slow in single lanes and very fast in double lanes. Keep right, pass left. Use oncoming lanes at will to pass others regardless of oncoming traffic. Hair raising stuff.
We got off the N2 and took the R63 past Grahamstown into a howling headwind but at least skipping some of the N2 horrors.
For the rest of the day we went as hard as possible southwards.
The roads proved to be extremely busy with the long weekend and school holidays starting. Near PE there were kilometer long queues of cars being held up by construction. I just love being on a bike at times like this.
We made it to Plett by 5 and this is pretty much where the story ends. The next day we hung around soaking some civilization and enjoying the relative comforts of choice.
The final day was a freezing cold and wet ride that got us home to Stellenbosch around 2.
Final round-up:
9 days, 8 nights
Distance traveled â?? 2900kmâ??s
Fuel used â?? about 210 liters (not exactly great economy but under circumstances acceptable)
Thanks for reading.
We just packed the bike and set off early one Saturday morning in the direction of East London.
This was not supposed to be any sort of hardcore trip.
Just a run of the mill ride to somewhere different.
The roads were quiet and we made excellent way â?? passing through Knysna around noon. Looking onward the skies changed and rain seemed imminent. I dearly wanted to ride Bloukrans Pass for a change and pleaded with the weather gods to smile on us â?? which they did. This time.
Back on the N2 we decided to not push our luck and pulled into Stormsriver Village. For some reason it always seem to rain there! Unfortunately being Saturday afternoon the place is a ghost town. We managed to arrange some â??decentâ?? accommodation and scoped out the only restaurant (for later) â?? but there and then decided against it. Somehow we didnâ??t feel like the â??Boerekosâ? which get served up to the hordes of adventure seeking European backpackers in the area.
With most of the afternoon to spare we took a drive to the Stormsriver Mouth where the sun was out (for a while) and took a drive around. If the weather was better I would have loved to pitch the tent here. What an awesome camping spot! Not that cheap though as camping spots go.
A massive fire destroyed parts of the hiking trails in the area and as a result the route to the suspension bridge across the Storms River was inaccessible. We hung around enjoying the sunset and stocked up on Tsitsikamma water.
As luck would have it the 15km drive back to Stormsriver Village had to be done in a torrential downpour â?? leaving me struggling to see ahead through the tinted visor. At least we were smart enough to put rain liners in â?? phew! For some strange reason I decided it â??unnecessaryâ?? to bring my winter (read waterproof) gloves on the trip. A stupid decision that came back to bite me in the arse for the duration of the trip.
The rest of the evening was spent chatting to dodgy solo backpackers and some watching impromptu gumboot dances by local kids.
Still terribly wet out the next morning we took the very quiet N2 and sped up past PE. Van Stadens Pass was closed due to road works on the N2 so that was a bit of a letdown. As we havenâ??t yet decided what our destination would be we turned off onto the R72 towards Kenton On Sea.
The weather was lovely there and we bummed on the beach for an hour or so.
From there it was a straight & fast line to Cintsa with Buccaneers as the accommodation choice. The first taste of Wild Coast road was forgiving and Cintsa proved to be a superb location with a beautiful beach and friendly people.
However, we decided to move on to Kei Mouth the next day. It was just a hop and a skip there â?? to find the little town virtually empty.
Just the way we like it. We found a great place to stay right on the beach and promptly decided to spend 2 days there.
The beach was totally deserted and proved the right medicine for tired butts.
Next day we walked(!) all along the coast to Morganâ??s Bay. Some local told us itâ??s around an hourâ??s â??strollâ??. Yeah right! We didnâ??t see another soul for the 3 hours it took us to get there.
Totally desolate and unbelievably amazing scenery. Had lunch at Morgan's Bay Hotel and contemplated hitching a ride to Kei Mouth â?? but opted for a â??shortcutâ?? back. I checked afterwards and the route we did totaled 14 kmâ??s.
The â??problemâ?? with the Wild Coast (as opposed to Cape Town) is that the sun rises over the sea and sets inland. Troublesome to us Capies whoâ??s used to watching the red balloon making its way down with a frosty in hand. The only way is to see the sun over the ocean is to get up really early. And replace the drink with a coffee. Not the same somehow.
We left Kei Mouth and were the first to get ferried across the river for the morning. It was windstil and apart from the slippery deck it was a lot of fun.
We followed a winding road past Qolora Mouth deeper into the country. It was getting warmer by the minute. We hit tar at some point and a bored traffic cop pulled me over just to have a look at the bike. He politely pointed out: â??No sir, itâ??s not warm itâ??s hotâ?.
We decided on the turnoff towards Coffee Bay and found the worst tarred road Iâ??ve seen for a while. Pothole dodging became a diversion as rapidly as the numbers of the livestock increased roadside. Eighty Kayâ??s of that brought us to Coffee Bay. At last! Some gravel. But wait...
Between Coffee Bay & Hole-In-The-Wall is the worst 10 kmâ??s of gravel I have EVER seen. Not difficult or anything. Just plain BAD. Rocky and bumpy all the way. Horrible stuff. Go ride it and see for yourself. Add some panniers and a pillion for extra fun!
Coffee Bay sucked. The place has dodgy written all over it. I remember a completely different place when I was there last (15 years ago). So we decided it can only be better at Hole-In-The-Wall.
And it was. Well sort off. At Hole-In-The-Wall your accommodation choice is pretty limited. Thereâ??s no shops and the people are all a bit â??oddâ??.
Here and there the signs of development starts to show. A huge board proclaiming Hole-In-The-Wallâ??s first exclusive housing estate is but one.
Even though it takes some getting used to growing a posse whenever you venture somewhere on foot - the breathtaking scenery and sheer untamed nature of the surrounds more than make up for it.
Although none of the kids trailing us around ever asks for money directly there is a lot of â??servicesâ?? and goods on offer. Necklaces made from small shells, guiding to good viewing and fishing spots, fresh seafood etc. Funny thing was that when I offered some silver to the couple of girls walking around with us (guiding), they seemed confused as to what exactly to do with it.
On the subject of the local kids. The majority of younger kids were totally awestruck with the sight of the fully loaded AT. Lisa claims itâ??s because we sounded like the â??Tinker Manâ? rattling down the road coming to repair the pots and kettles. Some hesitated to wave but became very enthusiastic once we extend a friendly hand. Some danced and some pulled faces. The older they got the less friendly they became.
Apart from one or two older girls(!) and a vicious little toddler who all tried to though stones at us we always felt safe traveling the road. (The other road users is a different story).
We spent a day traveling further up the coast, hanging out at Ndumbi beach for as long as we could before headed back towards Hole-In-The-Wall.
The weather predictions for the coming days looked ominous and we decided to turn south the next day and see how far we could get â?? chill a day there and continue home the next.
The main route (N2) is generally in a great condition and for the most part fun to ride. The road builders thought it necessary to include plenty of passing points for most of it. This proved a wise choice as the majority of drivers in that area use a different set of road rules than what Iâ??m used to.
Their rules go something like: Small yields to big, or else. If I can go faster than you I will pass you - now. Go slow in single lanes and very fast in double lanes. Keep right, pass left. Use oncoming lanes at will to pass others regardless of oncoming traffic. Hair raising stuff.
We got off the N2 and took the R63 past Grahamstown into a howling headwind but at least skipping some of the N2 horrors.
For the rest of the day we went as hard as possible southwards.
The roads proved to be extremely busy with the long weekend and school holidays starting. Near PE there were kilometer long queues of cars being held up by construction. I just love being on a bike at times like this.
We made it to Plett by 5 and this is pretty much where the story ends. The next day we hung around soaking some civilization and enjoying the relative comforts of choice.
The final day was a freezing cold and wet ride that got us home to Stellenbosch around 2.
Final round-up:
9 days, 8 nights
Distance traveled â?? 2900kmâ??s
Fuel used â?? about 210 liters (not exactly great economy but under circumstances acceptable)
Thanks for reading.
