The dented tea kettle makes an appearance in the Hotel Dining Room
Day five dawned. Beetlejuice liked where they were. The beach was right next to their tent. There were lots of people doing holiday things and the weather was glorious.
They decided to stay the day, evaluate their position and work on the bikes that by this time needed more work than they could possibly manage in a week.
First came the evaluation. they were tired, the bikes were shot. The number of days they had were running out and so was their money. Beetlejuice was starting to feel homesick – especially when he saw the kiddies playing on the beach. Axel received word that his brother was in hospital. they decided to start the homeward leg of the adventure instead of heading further north.
The bikes needed more work than they could get too in a week and they only had the most basic tools with them. they decided they’re going to take the tarred road back so they can get home in 2 days. If they went looking for dirt roads again, and there were many, it would add to the journey. Dirt roads had the advantage that they wouldn’t run into law enforcement types that could cause unpleasantness. Having duly considered all alternatives, they still liked the idea of simply making a beeline home even if it meant that the likelihood of being caught with unlicenced, unroadworthy tackle increased greatly. Not that they didn’t have a healthy respect for the law, they simply decided they’ll take their chances.
Then came the bikes. The TT was stripped down so they could get to the electrics – Beetlejuice thought a working headlight might be nice and while they’re at it they could see what else they could get to co-operate. When the tank came off they spotted a regulator that was broken off it’s mounting. Not good. They bypassed it and rigged some wires directly from the 12v charging system. But there were problems. The wiring was a mess and the harness, being a TT600 was 6V but the charging system was 12V because they were running a Xt550 motor in the bike. Too make a long story short, they got the hooter and the brake light working. You had to tell everyone close by to shut-up if you wanted to hear the hooter and hold your hand over the brake light if you wanted to see the brake light. Better than nothing they decided and put the bike together. They also had to tape up some lights and stuff they didn’t have replacement bolts for (original ones disappeared at an alarming rate)
Then it was time to check out the XL. It looked pretty good, considering. Not to many bolts missing but the left shock had no more oil in it and the battery was very weak. Tyres looked fine, though.
Both bikes was given a clean bill of health and they felt quite confident they’ll get them home. As a contingency they saw on a map the town of Bitterfontein is about 300 km from where they were and there was a railway line there. They decided to make that their first goal and reassess there. If necessary they could put the bikes on the train and ride down reading a book. They both liked the idea.
Beetlejuice had ridden thumpers on long journeys on tar and wasn’t particularly looking forward to a 1000km trip doing 80 or 90 km an hour. But hey, He’d survived it before and would again – maybe. Axel was blissfully unaware of the discomfort he was about to suffer. So was Beetlejuice as it turned out.
They had the bikes packed and the tent broken down at around 10:00am. They limped out of the caravan park after Beetlejuice had a long chat with a neighbour who came over to laugh at the bikes. He rode a ZX-10 and off course Beetlejuice had to slip in that they both also ride super bikes just so he knows they’re doing it for fun.The road out of Port Nolloth was the same one they came in on. It is 93 km long, straight and boring. It took them almost 2 hours to get to Steinkopf. There’s one nice pass where they stopped and admired the scenery. The rest of the time they spend in near comatose states wishing they were somewhere else and dodging the cars that kept on passing them from behind. They were running way below the speed limit and all but the most clapped out of jalopies would catch and overtake them in no time at all. As a matter of fact, Beetlejuice can’t recall passing a single vehicle on the entire trip.
Steinkopf was a small little town next to the N7. It being a Sunday there were lots of people walking about, mostly dressed up in church clothes. They didn’t stop but immediately turned right to head south on the N7. The N7 is a narrow 2 lane road without a tarred shoulder most of the way. It was busy and they had to dodge cars and trucks all the way. It was also boring and they started riding faster. they were about 20 km’s down the N7 when disaster struck.
Beetlejuice felt the TT losing power and but thought maybe he was imagining it. But it was certainly less responsive. Beetlejuice slowed down and Axel came past. Beetlejuice limped on for about 5 kilos then decided to stop and see if he could find anything wrong.
After an inspection where he couldn’t find anything weird, well, not obviously so. Beetlejuice left the motor running just in case and it sounded no different than usual. It was very noisy from the start. Beetlejuice let it idle for a while and then just as he was about to continue, Axel came wobbling back, looking pissed off. Beetlejuice explained about the loss in power and he looked at Beetlejuice with a look that said if it can idle it can ride. Get on you wus.
Well Beetlejuice got on and rode it and it seemed better. The better lasted maybe two kilometers then the bike went limp again. He stopped and it died. Beetlejuice sat there next to the road wondering what he was going to do now. Axel once again fell asleep and putted away merrily over the horizon. It was a warm day so Beetlejuice took his jacket off. Beetlejuice was thinking heat-seize, so he checked the oil. There was plenty, having topped up in Port Nolloth. The engine was very warm – you could smell the oil burning on the outside of the engine. Axel came back and Beetlejuice gave him the good news.
They took out the battered map and saw they’re still a long way from Bitterfontein where they hoped to catch a train. What was a contingency plan now became a reality. Beetlejuice found himself looking forward to sitting in a soft train seat. So they decided to head for Bitterfontein.
The bike started again after a while, confirming the diagnosis of heat seize and they set off again. It quickly became a ritual – Beetlejuice would ride for about 5 kms then have to stop for about 15 minutes, the bike would start and they would be able to ride some more. It happened about 6 times all in all before they got to Bitterfontein. Straight away they headed for the station. There was a hotel with a pub but it was Sunday and the pub was closed.
They parked at the station and Axel stayed with the bikes to watch some drunk local while Beetlejuice went to look for something like a timetable or a ticket office. It was quite a big station with train trucks with marble in it standing on the other side. Beetlejuice walked to all the buildings but couldn’t find signs of life or anything resembling a timetable.
Finally, just as he was about to give up, a sober local came walking across the railway lines. Beetlejuice asked him when the next train is and he burst out laughing. “There’s no train here” he said, “haven’t been any for 10 years, can’t you see how rusted the tracks are?” Then he walked away laughing and shaking his head.
When Beetlejuice got to the bikes he was just in time to hear Axel yelling at the drunk to piss off before he shoots him. The drunk didn’t get the unsubtle hint and took a swing at Axel, but he picked the wrong guy and subsequently took a nap with his head in someone else’s piss.
Needless to say Axels spirits was high and he took the good news really well. After sitting around in the piss stained ground for a while and feeling sorry for themselves they realised there’s nothing they could do – they had to ride the bike until it gave the ghost completely or they got to where they wanted to be. They did some calculations and realised they could make it halfway to Cape Town before nightfall if nothing breaks so they decided to push on and see how far they got.
The bike ran well for a while then started seizing again. And again and again. Around five o’clock they were in Klawer where they got some stuff to eat and draw some money from the auto bank. they didn’t want to sleep there as it was still to far from home, so they got on the bikes and rode again. Same story, but the towns were somewhat closer to each other, so they found themselves saying, “OK we’ll stop at the next town”, “OK lets see if they can make it to the one after that”. “OK one more” – all the time having to sit around and wait for the TT to cool down so Beetlejuice could ride it again.
Around six they limped into Clan William. It was close enough to home for a relaxed ride the next day. Beetlejuice had begun to realise the TT wasn’t going to break down all together and they just needed to be patient with it. So they started looking for a place to sleep. First they found a bed and breakfast joint. The owner was sitting on the stoep reading a book. He looked them up and down and said Yeeeeessssss?! when they asked for a room. they were stinking and full of oil and sun tan lotion. Don’t think he relished the idea of them even on his yard let alone between his crispy white sheets. He showed them a nice room but it looked expensive. It was. they made him a counter offer and he laughed them off so they had to leave – thinking there’s got to be a cheaper Bed and breakfast joint in town.
As it turned out there wasn’t. Not even a backpackers. So they ended up at the hotel which was marginally cheaper but included a breakfast. But this owner also looked less than glad of their patronage. When Beetlejuice required whether their bikes would be safe outside he pointed to some boats and said those are worth millions (more than their bikes) and the owners leave them outside. Well, that didn’t really answer Beetlejuice’s question because losing a boat is one thing but it’s easy to steal a bike and the rich guy with the boat will have an expensive 4 x 4 to get him home. They’ll have to walk.
Beetlejuice was about to discuss this with the owner (more full contact discussions I’m afraid) when Axel, looking happy for the first time that day handed over some money and said, they’ll take it. Which was clever as he already knew they had no-where else to go. Maybe Axel was terrified of Beetlejuice deciding to hell with Clanwilliam they’ll go to the next town!
The room was nice and clean. they bathed and watched some TV, then looked for cleanish clothes and went down for supper. they’d decided they’re going to treat themselves that night so they went to the pub and drank some beer. Then they went for supper and before too long they were giggling like schoolgirls, drinking beer and wine and gorging themselves on steaks.
It turned out to be a long weekend and the rich people started coming in. Well groomed women and well dressed kids and husbands with snow white jerseys draped over their shoulders. Beetlejuice and Axel sat there eyeing this lot who all sat a respectable distance from them.
Axel decided that a brew up with the dented tea kettle on the dining table would finish the day off nicely and keep with the spirit of things. Axel was full of spirits from his hip flask by this stage and didn’t really need any more so Beetlejuice had to step in before the owner and Axel got into full contact discussions this time. Axel was adamant that a brew up was what they needed and the tablecloths were a boring white anyway.
Beetlejuice showed his class with a bit of wine tasting (Ok beer) and commenting on how subtle it was on the nose as opposed to themselves. He then proceeded to scare the guys in their snow white cardigans by threatening to join them at their table for desserts as he was now an expert after having ridden through one The evening was still young. After supper, the yuppies moved over to the fireplace. They drank expensive liqueurs and got noisier as the evening progressed. Axel and Beetlejuice were still sitting at their table, minding their own business and concentrating on spiking the coke they kept ordering with whiskey from their hip flasks without getting caught or, worse still, spilling something. They were content and happy.
The adventure was drawing to a rather unexpected, successful close. Not much remained of the trip apart from a boring day-long drone back down the N7 to their mansions, stopping every 10km’s for the inevitable heat seize. The bikes had held up remarkably well considering. Both were still going - after a fashion. Nothing important had fallen off. The cops hadn’t noticed anything untoward about the mismatched plates and non existent licence disks. Or even the lights that simply existed.
Before too long, Axel got concerned over the amount he had to tip his hip flask over before any fluids came out and so, with a plan in mind, he walked over to the yuppies and started chatting to them. After a while, Beetlejuice woke up and joined them. They talked about boats and trips to the Richtersveld and the yuppies found it hard to believe that the two Adventurers had actually ridden all the way on the bikes parked under the old blue gum tree outside the hotel. The party was in full swing with the yuppies buying more and more liqueurs at Axel’s instigation and when the restaurant closed, it was unanimously decided (by Axel) that it would be continued in the yuppies suites.
Tags: Richtersveld Adventure
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