Only two IUB’s from Cape Town and one from Randburg attended the 2000 Buffalo Rally. This is a trip report from the guys that rode all the way from Cape Town. They were me, Chris (BeetleJuice) riding his beautiful, stunning, awesome and highly capable 1998 Marauder and Simon (Axel) riding his equally stunning and capable 1400 Intruder. Plans have been made, routes planned, bookings made and both looked forward to the trip. We almost didn’t go but at the last minute decided we will not miss it, come hell or high water.
The distances I’ve got here was taken from a map we took along which turned out to be wrong most of the time. It was a cheap map I stole from a rented car and it’s purpose was to show the dealers network. Not THAT kind of dealer I found out afterwards, effectively rendering the map useless.
We also did a lot of sight seeing along the way (we NEVER got lost!) and seeing as none of us had the presence of mind to check our odometers before we left, we don’t really know how far we travelled. Final distance would be the sum of these distances plus some for sight-seeing, getting our ears pierced, conveying wood, booze, cruising for ass (just joking), turning back to find things that have fallen off the bikes/check out that nice bike we just rode past minus the parts we did on our back wheels riding up and down the main road of Aliwal North (now this is dead serious off course).
Day 1 Cape Town to Richmond - 614 km
We left home at 5:30 to meet on the Paarl side of the Toll Tunnel at around 6:30. I was riding from the Strand and Axel from Bergvliet. It was very cold and my hands and feet were dead halfway there. Our timing was perfect and I caught up with Axel just as he was about to stop and wait for me. A quick hallo, the compulsory admiring of his new set of saddle bags and we were off. There were more groups forming as it turned out to be a popular meeting place. We paid our toll money and rode through the tunnel. It was nice and warm inside and I was tempted to stop for a while to warm up. Big signs warned me this would result in a stiff fine, so I pushed on.
We had filled up and had a quick breakfast at the One Stop in Worcester. Lots of coffee. It was still damn cold and the weather looked good for rain. We figured out we’ll miss the rain as we were headed to the only sunny spot on the horizon. Hoping really, as my kit was unprotected and my rain suit less than adequate. Axel was dressed in full leathers and would be fine.
Pulled off again at a place that I can’t remember, but it was close to De Doorns, maybe it was De Doorns. Someone offered us vodka – we politely declined. I went to the toilet and Axel was talking to some weird looking girl, barefoot and wrapped in a blanket that was inquiring about where we were going, when I got back. The blanket looked really warm and inviting. I was shivering uncontrollably. She left quickly after I showed up; maybe she didn’t like the way I looked at her blanket. We met a guy from Mitchell’s Plain on a 150 cc Vespa, also on his way to the Buff. The Vespa was laden with camping equipment of all kinds on a make shift carrier made from Semblit shelving. There was even a teapot to be seen tied to the lot!
Next stop was Laingsburg where we had something to eat. Still no sign that the weather was warming up. Lots of bikes around, all going to the Buff. The Wimpy was warm and it took lots of willpower to get up and ride again.
We had enough fuel to make it to Leeu Gamka, however it was so cold we stopped at another little town, with only a petrol station, to fill up, just to move around a little. The petrol attendant was screaming at me because he said he didn’t have change and I said well then just make it a round amount of R20 for the petrol as he meant they don’t have change for R200 notes. Silly me. I suppose the pressure of having two customers in one day was just too much! Shortly afterwards we reached Leeu Gamka, and stopped to have some cold drinks. The guy on the Vespa zipped passed after filling up. Bikes pulled in all the time. Then we left for the next town, Beaufort West, 75 km away.
We met the guy on the Vespa again at Three Sisters where we had a long chat with him. He was adamant to ride through to Aliwal North in one day. I was beginning to have similar feelings towards the Vespa as Mr. Bean has towards that blue little 3 wheeled car… We decided to let him ride past us so we can feel what it feels like to pass someone slower than us, as we were still sticking to the speed limit of 120 km/h at that stage, and bikes and cars passed us all the time.
While here a guy we know from sight pulled up on his heavily disguised Shadow. While I went to get cold drinks he apparently told Axel his Shadow will not be able to run with Axels Intruder on pull away but will run away from it with top end as it could cruise at 200 km/h. When Axel told me this we had a good laugh and immediately named the bike “Super Shadow”. Whenever we saw this guy for the remainder of the weekend one of us would go “Look everybody, its Soooopurrr Shadow” Much to the delight of the crowds and the embarrassment of the rider.
The long, straight roads of the Karoo left us much time to think. You’ll come over a little hill and see the road stretching straight in front of you until it disappears over the horizon.
We started to push the bikes harder and harder and soon found we could cruise in relative comfort at around 160 km/h. Axel was particularly impressed having just spend a small fortune on his bike, amongst other, to have the carbs fixed. I was impressed with the little Marauder being able to keep up with the big 1400 Intruder, although it easily pulled away from me when going uphill or passing traffic. The Intruder was packed with a huge sissy bar bag, saddle bags, all our camping equipment including a tent, a stretcher (Axel likes his comforts). Later a gas stove, fire buckets, coffee, sugar, milk and even dixies and a braai grid appeared from amongst the depths of the luggage. If there’s a bike to haul all this around and still run straight and true around a corner at 160, the Intruder is the one. I can confirm that. I want one.
The Marauder was carrying my sleeping bag and a camping mattress on the luggage rack and the rest of my goods in a tank bag, which proved a very versatile and capable item. The rest of my stuff was in a backpack on my back.
It was cold the whole day long, but at around one o’clock one could feel the hottest part of the day was over. We started riding into a very cold headwind. This was to last for the remainder of the day and the following day. After Three Sisters, where we tanked up for the last time, we had a 75 km run to Richmond where we’ve booked a room for the night at the Ka-Ma Lodge. Axel got the name wrong and thought we were headed towards a place with a name that sounded similar to Ka-Ma Lodge but had a different meaning which I won’t repeat here.This probably explained the speed he was maintaining. While riding this stretch, a truck coming from the opposite direction blew off my tank bag, it hit me on the chest and I was able to wrestle it down onto the magnets without too much drama. Shortly after this a BMW 325 convertible came past us. Two young guys and two young girls inside. All was sleeping except the driver, who waved friendly. I decided to tuck in behind them as there were a lot of trucks coming from the front and I was concerned about the tank bag being blown off again.
The BMW driver quickly realized what I was doing and maybe he was a biker himself because he was brilliant, he got up to 140 km/h, looked in the mirror and when I was still there, keep that speed. Even when passing slower traffic he would wait for me on the other side. We were riding into a fierce headwind and the slip form the car made it easier and when the huge trucks came passed I was shielded from their wind blast by the car. Axel later remarked that I was hogging the BMW and when I told him about the tank bag he said he thought it was something like that. Anyway, when we figured it was safe, we pulled out from behind the BMW, gave him a friendly wave and pushed the bikes to maximum for the last stretch. Just to show him we don’t have to cruise at 140 all the way!
As we pulled into Richmond we had to find our telephones as we only had a number for the Ka-Ma Lodge. The BMW came passed again, huge grins and friendly waves were exchanged. We got directions to the Lodge and set off. I had the earplugs out of my ears for the first time today and immediately heard a fierce rattle. What was falling off? How long has it been there? I was concerned, as these V-Twins are notorious for vibrating things loose. However when we rode into the yard of the Lodge I found that it was a hook on the tank bag that was rattling against the fuel tank. Nothing serious. The plastic hook was tied to the bag to keep if from scratching the paint for the rest of the trip.
We booked in and unpacked. Then we went to the dining room where we had a Rum and Coke (OK, a couple) to set fire to our intestines. We went back to the room and along the way, and much to my surprise, met some friends of ours on their way to Durban by car. We had a chat with them and had some of his beer before they left.
Dinner was steak and chips. Excellent Karoo steak. We talked the waiter into letting us have his last bottle of Sherry for which he charged us the princely sum of R13 (US$ 2)!. He got a nice tip, needless to say. Then we went to our room. I had a quick shower and was immediately surprised by the lack of size of the shower. It was very cold and you didn’t want any parts of your body touching the cold walls or the even colder shower curtain behind you. This however turned out to be impossible. And if you dropped the soap and had to bend to pick it up your ass touched the cold wall and would make you jump forward. I decided a bath would have been a better option. I didn’t warn Axel about this (naturally) and he later complained about it too. The rooms curtains were drawn wide open so we could see the bikes (we couldn’t get them into the room because there was a couple of steps), and I fell asleep straight away. My throat was sore and I had a headache. I was planning to get my flue shots before we left, but didn’t want to take them so close to the rally in case they made me sick as sometimes happens. Now it appeared as if I made an error in judgement as I was certain I was getting the flu.
Day Two Richmond to Aliwal-North (326 km)
When I woke up there was ice on the seats of the bikes. It was damn cold. My throat was sore. I had a headache, and it wasn’t only the sherry and the rum. I knew I was in for a bad cold. We didn’t have far to go today and decided we’ll ride a bit later to give the earth some time to warm up.
Breakfast consisted of a “Wake Up breakfast”, which consisted of 2 eggs, bacon, some very nice wors (sausage) grilled tomato and toast, washed down with liters of coffee which the V-Twins converted into urine in no time at all - they’re really good at doing that.
We checked the bikes. I got a fright when I couldn’t see the oil through the inspection window. I had started the bike up for a couple of seconds before I decided I need to check the oil. I’m riding on 10W-40, see, so the oil wouldn’t come down again, it was to cold. I realised I’ll have to warm up the engine properly to get the juices flowing, in matter of speaking. You wouldn’t believe how long it took to warm the oil up. I got bored, and finally got the engine warm after letting it idle for about 20 minutes and then taking it for a ride through town and to the nearest petrol station. Finally I could see all the oil and was happy with the oil level.
Then we set off. Next town was Hangover, sorry, Hanover, seemed a lot of bikers slept over there. This stretch was very cold. The wind was still very strong and coming from the front and to our rights. About 10 k’s outside Richmond my fingers and toes went numb from the cold and after that it was OK. I was shivering uncontrollably all the way. I knew this would not help the cold I could feel coming. Fortunately we made it to Colesberg without frostbite or other permanent damage. We tanked up and as we both had to draw some money we went into town. The town was very busy. We stood in line for autobanks and then I went to look for a Pharmacy to get something for my throat, which was killing me. There was a very strong police presence in the town for some reason. We decided to leave, and I asked a local for directions. He pointed us in the right direction and warned us about potholes and buck sleeping next to the roads. It was secondary roads from here on, and we were both looking forward to riding less boring roads than the dead-straight N1 we’ve been riding so far.
As we went out of Colesburg I was riding in front. I’ve gotten used to riding at 140 – 150 on the highway and immediately set of at that pace. It was thrilling, as the road was narrow with no shoulder and grass growing waist high on both sides. The road was winding and well maintained, until we came around a sharp corner and saw a narrow bridge riddled with potholes like a swiss cheese. As we were leaning out of the corner, braking was not a good idea and we somehow managed to find a clear way through the potholes. I caught one with my rear tyre. That was all. Axel also somehow made it.
It was still cold and I was munching the throat medicine I had bought. After a while I could see two bikes in front of us. They were going slower than we were and the appeared to be sports bikes. The thought of blowing off two sports bikes on a narrow winding country road appealed to me. I knew Axel would feel the same, so we cranked the bikes up and finally passed the startled sports bikes on their outsides at about 160 km/h on a blind rise. I could see Axel grinning in my rearview mirror.
We stopped at Venterstad to fill up and to give the two sports bikes a chance to get in front so we could do it again. We were laughing and grinning about that all the while. When finished we set of for Burgersdorp, 65 k’s away.
At Burgersdorp the town was packed with bikes. Mostly in front of the hotel. We rode around town and then found a garage where we asked about a coffee shop and filled up. The coffee shop was small and served excellent scones, albeit a bit small for biker appetites. We met some Camel man wannabees on a Varadero and a Triumph Tiger who came up from Cape Town via dirt roads, they claimed. They left and then a guy and his wife on an old Goldwing took their place. We were laughing through the window of the coffee shop at the, now dubbed, “Satin Leaf men” struggling to get their, less-than-nimble, legs over the high seats, trying to get on their steeds and immediately decided male menopause is a fact of life to be dealt with any way you fancy.
From here it was a short run to Aliwal North and the campsite, 58 km’s away. We rode it quite quickly and rode into Aliwal at around 3 o’clock, found the campsite and paid our entry fees. I was very chaffed with my Buffalo badge. It was my first Buff and it’s been a dream of mine to attend one of these for years. Then we rode into the campsite to find a place to pitch our tents. After riding around for a while I spotted folks I knew and after a short chat we decided to camp with them as they said it’s the quieter part of the rally site. We unpacked and pitched our tent. My throat was still sore and I had a dry, racking cough that pulled the muscles in my shoulders every time I coughed.
It was around 3:30 PM when we decided to ride into town to get some meat for a braai (barbecue) and some more sherry, to help the cold, see. The town was packed. Bikes were lined up both sides of the main road. Traffic police kept cars from the main road, it was bikes only. We rode down and found a shopping center where I bought 3 bottles of Sherry, six beers and Axel bought us some meat and rolls. I started chatting with a guy on a beautiful blue SV650 while I was waiting for Axel. He came up from Mooirivier, about 400 km’s away and was very happy with his bike. It was a great looking scoot. I want one.
Back at the campsite we pulled out the stretcher and sat in front of the tent to eat some potato chips, drink some beer and “chill”. A beautiful peacock male wandered over and started eating the chips we fed him. It even ate some from Axels hand. We had some beer and chatted to our neighbor about his Africa Twin, which he loves dearly. Then we decided we’d better make a fire and get the meet done so we can eat. We needed wood however and took the bikes to the main commercial center of the rally where things like wood were on sale. We walked around, looked at the different stalls and bought some momentoes. Axel propped the wood on his lap and managed to get it back to the tent without doing damage to his paintwork (or manhood). The wood was wet however and needed a lot of leaves and bark to get it going. Meanwhile some friends joined us and we polished off the remainder of the beer and I went back to fetch a bottle of Sherry, which was passed from hand to hand and quickly dispatched with.
Before to long my cold was forgotten. The Sherry had the desired effect. I was having fun. Chatting to our neighbor (we used to ride together when we just finished the army and shared some old jokes) we wondered where the rest of the old gang were and what they were up too. Riggs treated us to a drawn out version of how he met his wife and at one stage I fell asleep, stepped backwards and fell over a tree stump to roaring laughter. Things were hotting up. We then decided it’s time to go to the band tent to check out the bands. The meat, only slightly done was transferred to a dixie pan and went along. We were munching and talking and laughing as we walked over there. Somewhere along the line we went back for the second bottle of Sherry and this was dealt with swiftly. Axel kept on producing a hip flask with Jameson whiskey and we took swigs from that too…
Arriving at the band tent we found a good spot right in front of the band. Axel decided the tent is in danger of falling over and propped himself against a tent pole where he happily stayed the remainder of the night, swaying to the music. I was dancing by myself, filming with my video camera and talking the people around me into doing summersaults so I can film it. The band was excellent, and they played favorites like “Born to be Wild” etc.
We tried to find fellow IUB Heinrich “Mad Max”. I had a cell phone number for him which I called earlier but I got through to someone who thought I was nuts when talking about BeetleJuice, Inter Galactic Urban Bikers and meeting at the beer tent. He hung up. I was devastated as I realized I must have gotten the number wrong. Heinrich said he rides with Satan’s Saints and we looked for one of them and found a guy called Two Dogs. We tried to explain to him that we’re looking for our buddy that rides with them and we don’t know what he looks like as we’ve never actually met. He looked at us suspiciously. I tried making the joke that we’re debt collectors and that went down even worse. He suddenly didn’t know whom we were talking about. We got a description of a big guy wearing a trench coat and started asking everyone we saw that was wearing trench coats what their names were, until it became obvious it’s just a matter of time before someone gets annoyed and floors one of us. So we had some Jameson instead…
At around 12 o’clock we went back to the tent. I was feeling the effects of the cold again. I went to sleep but was woken around 4 o’clock with bikes revving. I couldn’t sleep and put on my boots and went to the toilets. Then I walked through the campsite. I saw a huge TV screen earlier and knew there was a Super 12 rugby match on at around 4 o’clock. I found the TV and settled on a wooden bench to watch the game. I was the only one there but the bar tent, not far off, was doing a roaring trade still. I went back to the tent around seven and took a quick shower while there was still hot water. Bikes started revving again and Axel remarked dryly that I must have missed some of them as the revving stopped shortly after I left the tent and it seemed as if I had something to do with it, which off course I didn’t. Promise.
Day 3 Aliwal North 0 km
We were there. After a breakfast of coffee we started walking through the campsite. Visiting the stalls and checking out things for sale. I bought a leather tool roll for the front of my bike. Axel was pissed off because it was the last one and he wanted it.
Stunt riding was due to start at 10 o’clock so we ate some breakfast rolls (bacon and egg on a bread roll) and drank lots of coffee. My cold was worse. Then we went back to the tent to fetch our cameras and parked outside the campsite where the stunt riding display was to be held. The stunts turned out to be a guy and a bike doing high-speed wheelies. Later he put someone on the back, then another and then another until there were four on the bike and it started getting boring as it became clear he knew what he was doing and wasn’t going to fall. We packed our cameras away in disgust and went back to the rally center.
Axel and I decided, before we left, we’d get our ears pierced at the rally. Axel also wanted a tattoo. There were no stalls at the campsite that did this and I was glad because the thoughts of someone shooting a hole through my ear send shivers down my spine. I was hoping Axel would forget about it but sure enough, around 11 o’clock he casually announced we have to move if we’re going to find a shop open that can pierce our ears. I tried acting even sicker that I was, then pleaded that I was only joking but Axel can be pretty scary himself so he got my sorry ass on my bike and I reluctantly followed him into town. First stop was the local Fochini shop; they looked us up and down and decided they can’t help. I was keeping a distance because my eyes were red from the cold and I was sniffing a lot. Next we tried Truworths across the road. No luck either but they directed us to American Swiss in another shopping center. I followed Axel who seemed determined. A very nice lady listened to our request and called her co-worker who produced an innocent looking white box and purple felt tipped pen.
We were instructed to mark our ears where we wanted it pierced while she assembled the torture device. The device was also white and looked a bit like a gun but I soon figured out it worked on the same principle as a staple gun. Axel was first. I watched his face closely for signs of pain or shock. When the gun went off, he hardly batted an eye, I nearly fainted and almost ran away. Then she came my way, gave me the pen, which I declined, like the damned that refuses the blindfold. I told her to pick a spot and shoot as long as it’s not in my head. She put the thing to my earlobe and I felt a soft pressure. This is not so bad, I told myself, and then she pulled the trigger… When I woke up I was the proud owner of a gold stud in my (painful) left ear. I staggered to the door, got on the bike and put my helmet on. Immediately an excruciating pain shot through my ear, I hooked the new stud somewhere. So the helmet went on the front of the bike and stayed there.
To settle my nerves we went for something to eat. There was a Wimpy around the corner. Some bikers had taken their bikes into the restaurant and parked it right next to their table! Later when we left, I was still riding without a helmet, one of the local traffic cops gestured me over and we thought I was going to get a fine for riding without a helmet but he simply lifted a barrier keeping traffic from the main road and waved us through. So I rode up the main road and back to the camp. Proudly displaying my ear that felt like that of an elephant and seemed to bounce up and down whenever I hit a bump in the road.
The mass ride was at 1 o’clock. We decided we’ll give it a miss as we saw the way some of these guys ride and I for one didn’t feel like riding my bike. I just wanted to crawl under a bush and wait for the end, which I was certain, was very near. I went to the tent to lie down.
Then it started raining. The locals assured us it’s only a light shower and it would clear up soon. We sat in the tent and waited, eating some of the left over bread rolls from the previous nights disastrous braai. Sure enough it cleared up shortly afterwards. The sun even came out for the first time that day. We went to look for food and looked at the concourse d’elegance bikes, there were some very nice bikes on display. I took some video footage of some of them. Then it started raining again, and we headed back to the tent.
It was raining hard and there were thunder and lightning. We were concerned about where we were camping under the trees having heard stories about lightning striking trees. As luck would have it we picked the tallest tree and everybody knows lightning picks the tallest trees to hit. Where we’re from these electrical thunderstorms are unheard of. Scary stuff.
It was still raining and it got dark early. Fortunately we were camped on a slight slope but the guys further down weren’t so fortunate. Their tents were standing ankle deep in water. It was a mission to get to the toilets so we also got into the Buff habit of doing our business against the nearest tree. More water wouldn’t matter!
We decided to have a quick nap and then head back to the rally center to partake in the evening’s festivities, I woke up 7 o’clock the next morning… We figured out that the earplugs we bought for riding also comes in handy when trying to sleep in a noisy rally site.
Day Four Aliwal North to Port Elizabeth 357 km
Finally, time to ride again. I was eager. In a jiffy we had the bikes packed, exchanged telephone numbers with our neighbors and set off. It was still overcast, my cold was worse. I had a plate of aspirin for breakfast. Then we left for town to draw some (more) money, have a proper breakfast and fill up the bikes. It felt good to be riding again, although I felt a bit sad about leaving the campsite for some reason.
Or first stretch was along the N6 to Queenstown. Nice road. Some more bikes on the road. We made good time and kept an eye on the rain clouds. Both of us were wearing new rainsuits we bought at the rally and these proved to be an excellent purchase as they kept us warm even though it was not raining and there really was no need for them. We stopped at a little town called Jamestown to fill up. I started chatting with some ragged looking bikers on their way to East London. They were adamant it wouldn’t rain. I wondered loudly whether they’re perhaps hoping it wouldn’t rain, as they were dressed in jeans and denim jackets and the skies looked threatening to me. One pimply faced teenage girl looked particularly forlorn and I felt sorry for her if it started raining. I almost offered her my old rain suit, which I didn’t need anymore, but one look at her boyfriend discouraged me.
After Jamestown we rode through majestic countryside, green and lush with vegetation, the smell of herbs in the air. We went through a mountain pass where it was very cloudy and got some light rain, then we descended into a valley and it cleared up again. This was really beautiful country. I was sneezing very badly into my full-face helmet and tried to time my sneezes when no cars were coming from the front, or when I wasn’t in a turn, because it was impossible to keep my eyes open while sneezing. I had some more Panado’s before we left Jamestown and I was starting to feel very drowsy. I started singing to myself, opening the visor (the cold wind immediately took my breath away) and made conscious efforts to stay awake. This didn’t work so I resorted to praying with my eyes open, which worked.
I thought we’ll never see Queenstown and although the countryside was unbelievable, I needed to stop and get some caffeine, either coffee of Coke into my body to fight the drowsiness. I was glad when we pulled into Queenstown, filled up and parked under some shadecloth. I left for the shop and bought a Bar-One and some Energade, then a Coke for the caffeine. I munched these and Axel waited patiently, munching something he bought.
This was where we turned off from the N6, we’ll be following secondary roads from here to Fort Beaufort and the on to Grahamstown. We both wanted to visit Grahamstown, as that’s where we were based during our military training. We met some other Buff types here, one on a brand new Bandit that was acting up and he unceremoniously pulled a rubber pipe from somewhere, sucked at it and announced that he had water in his carb. His buddy, riding a BMW GS, was lying flat on his back and seemed at the end of his endurance. We chatted for a while and then set off. The secondary roads were good and we made excellent time to Grahamstown where we found a Wimpy and ordered food. We decided not to go and look for the military camp but instead to push on to Port Elizabeth where we were to spend the night at my sister’s place. It was still a distance away and we wanted to get there.
We joined the N2 south just outside Grahamstown and I have barely hooked fifth when Axel realized he didn’t have enough fuel to make it to PE. So we went back into Grahamnstown and filled up. Then set off for PE. I was riding in front and as usual, we were going at a hectic pace. We’ve since got used to the fact that we could easily cruise at 160 and was doing that speed whenever circumstances permitted. About halfway to PE cars from the front warned us about a speed trap by flashing their lights. We rode at 120 for a while, found the speed trap, with the cop sitting in a chair reading a newspaper, and immediately wound the bikes up to 160 again. We were making good time and rolled into PE at about 3 o’clock. Then we had to find Summerstrand, and we rode along the beachfront for kilometer after kilometer until we found our turnoff and shortly afterwards, my sister’s house. We were received with warm welcomes; hot coffee and I got enough flue medication to put me on a permanent high. A hot pudding was waiting for us and we wolfed down huge amounts. Life was great. Later that night we were treated to a sightseeing tour of the (very pretty) city, more hot pudding, excellent home-made pizza’s, some more coffee, a hot shower and after downing half a bottle of Vicks Medi-night (around 95% alcohol I think) I passed out at around 8 o’clock to sleep like a log until the next morning.
Day Five Port Elizabeth to Oudtshoorn 394 km
I was feeling great the next morning. We only had a short distance to go and consulted my brother in law about the best routes to take. He suggested we stay off the boring toll roads and ride the Bloukrans Pass. This turned out to be excellent advice. After packing up and saying goodbye we rode secondary roads to Jeffrey Bay, one of the worlds premier surfing spots. Axel grinned when I admitted I spent my honeymoon in this part of the world, two birds with one stone. We had excellent lemon meringue pie for breakfast, it was so fresh they couldn’t even cut it properly so I got a huge blob of something yellowish with white meringue on a plate together with the hosts apologies and comment that it’s not often someone orders that for breakfast…
The Bloukrans Pass was absolutely spectacular. It’s impossible to describe. Imagine riding through a tropical rain forest in a narrow winding road… Like that, only better. Axel was so impressed he rigged his video camera to the handlebars of the Intruder and filmed the whole ride.
After we re-joined the N2, we stopped at the Storms River Bridge for a while. It also would have been a good time to get into our rainsuits as it was clearly raining where we were going, we didn’t though. Sure enough it started raining shortly afterwards and we had to stop to put them on next to the road. From there on it was raining all the way. As we got closer to Knysna I spotted a lovely place called Noetzie where all the houses looks like medieval castles. I stopped and talked Axel into the detour. I forgot it was about 5 km of dirt road. We fought deep ruts in the road, rocks and slippery patches. If it started raining heavily the whole road would turn into a slippery mess. When we got there the last part of the road was closed to vehicles. We had two choices, ignore the warnings and ride down on the heavily packed bikes or walk down and leave the bikes at the parking area. Neither was met with much enthusiasm and as it was clearly going to start raining very hard very soon we opted for the bikers alternative which meant a quick pee against the warning sign and on to the bikes and out of there.
When we joined the N2 again it was raining very hard. We pushed on to Knysna, turned off towards The Heads, rode all the way there and turned around to go and find a tree in the city center to sit under. Here we struck up a conversation with a local that seemed either drunk or forlorn. We had a nice chat and then he ruined our friendship by asking for money. We left, pass the town of Sedgefield and on to George. It was still raining very hard. In George it was really pissing with rain, so we filled up and set of for the Outeniqua pass. Spectacularly scenic. Also very cold and wet and to add to our misery, heavily fogged. We couldn’t see more than 50 m in front of us. I had to open my visor. It took us quite a while to get over the pass and the usual scenery was non existent. Down the other side the fog cleared and the rain eased to soft drizzle. We cranked the bikes up all the way and rode into Oudsthoorn at around 4 o’clock, and after finding a Bed and Breakfast joint we booked in and unpacked the bikes. Axel told the owner we had sleeping bags and don’t need bedding. His sleeping bag was tucked away in the waterproof sissy bar bag. Mine was tied to my luggage rack and soaking wet…
For supper we went to the local Spur, and tucked away at a beer and a burger. The locals were treated to a spectacular Intruder startup when we were finished and more than one were seen clutching their hearts after Axel started his bike and took off across the pavement, then down the main road, made a U-turn and came past the restaurant again! I tried my best but after his performance anything short of taking my clothes off would have seemed lame and I wasn’t doing that. Needless to say we slept like logs that night.
Day Six Oudtshoorn to Cape Town 506 km
We decided to leave Oudsthoorn early so we don’t get to Cape Town to late, so we packed our stuff, filled the bikes and left as soon as we could, I think it was around 8:30. We pushed on until Calitzdorp where we had to fill up again and had a leisurely breakfast. It was still raining. I was feeling OK but Axels throat was giving him trouble. His cold was only starting. We went to look for a pharmacy where he bought some Medi-Keel then went to look for a place where he could get dry socks and plastic bags. I felt sorry for him, as I knew what he was in for. While he was doing shopping I chatted to the locals that stopped to admire the (very dirty bikes) and answer their stupid questions with even more ridiculous answers, all of which they believed!
The ride through Ladysmith was fast and furious; we only slowed down marginally and picked up speed as soon as we could. The road was wide and well kept and there was little or no traffic. We rolled into Barrydale shortly afterwards were we had to go and check up on the 3 legged cat we saw there during February (see Freedom Rally trip report). The cat was alive and well and coming along nicely on 3 legs. We had some cheesecake and some variation on Swiss roll, which Axel claimed to enjoy and after a chat with the shopkeeper’s wife we filled up the bikes and left.
As we pulled into Robertson, I noticed my bike was louder than usual. One of my baffles was hanging halfway out, the screw having fallen out. We filled up, used the toilets and set off to find a mechanic that supplied a similar screw and put it in for me, refused any kind of payment and went on with what he was doing, ignoring us! From here on it was a straight and fast run to Worcester. Fortunately it stopped raining.
At Worcester we stopped at the same One Stop we stopped at on our way up, filled up with petrol for the last time and ate lunch. We met two Free Staters on scramblers that were either very tough or very stupid as they were only dressed in moto-cross gear and it was very cold outside.
We got our toll money for the tunnel ready and headed towards the mountains. This is a wonderful stretch of road and for the first time in the entire trip we had a scare as a motorist came screaming around a corner right in our lane and towards us. We narrowly avoided him. Then it was time to see how fast we could ride the corners as it was a wide, 2-lane road with long sweeping corners. We negotiated quite a couple of them at neckbreak speeds and was grinning from ear to ear when we rode into the Du Toitskloof tunnel. It was dark and stuffy inside and I had to remove my sunglasses to see better while Axel disappeared into the haze.
We’ve decided to part at the second Stellenbosch turnoff and we had a quick stop to say goodbye, after which I set off alone and got home around 3 o’clock.
Finally, I was disappointed with the Buff. OK I was sick which probably played a role, but to me the best part was the trip, going there and coming back. Five days out of six days just doing what I love doing, riding my bike! The bikes behaved impeccably. We lost some screws between the two of us, which was to be expected on a V-Twin and showed our attitute towards checking the bikes before we rode each morning - we had blind faith in them.
Thanx Axel for the great company, the coffee and the (still painfull) hole in my ear, for introducing me to mr Jameson and his fine product and Vicks Medi-Nite! ! Next year I’ll do it again, but this time I’ll get that flu shot!
Tags: Buffalo Rally, Rally Reports
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