Not quite the Eastern Cape

Not quite the Eastern Cape

The idea was to use a wedding in Sedgefield on Saturday to use as a stepping stone to ride on and explore the Eastern Cape - seemed like a reasonable plan, with Jane driving and myself riding. She would then drive back and I would carry on, on my own.

We duly set off on Friday morning on a typical blustery Cape Town morning - southeaster gusting away, making riding fairly unpleasant. The BMW was loaded with top box, two panniers, backpack on the pillion rest and a tank bag. I had decided not to camp which cut out camping equipment but the bike was still fairly laden. It was fairly difficult getting on and off, having to slide a leg between the pillion bag and the tank bag but I was to get used to it over the next week.

Couldn’t decide whether to ride behind Jane or ahead of her but eventually compromised on riding ahead and stopping briefly to allow her to catch up. Stopped at the top of Du Toit’s Pass to admire the scenery and then rejoined the N1 to Worcester. Riding at about 135 kph I noticed two sports bikes coming up fast behind me. I obligingly moved over to the yellow line to allow them to pass, which they duly did one on my right and the other one on the inside, on the left. I almost had a stroke, on the spot. I guess they thought that was a huge laugh, but I certainly didn’t enjoy it. For the next couple of kilometers had dark thought about what I would say to them if I ever caught up, but then forgot them in the magic of the day. We stopped at Robertson for a brief wine-buying trip (Jane, not me). The traffic was fairly light with the road between Ashton and Swellendam being particularly attractive - mountains on your left, well-tended farms and hills on your right. Sun was shining; God was definitely in his heaven!

We stopped at Worcester for lunch. Jane almost drove me mad trying to decide where to stop but we eventually decided on a hotel with a veranda where I could keep an eye on the bike. There were already a couple of bikes parked outside (unfortunately not the hooligans) and I found out they were bikers from Humansdorp on their way to the Swallows Rally. One had a fairly elderly BMW K series and he was very interested in Beaky. The rest of the day was uneventful. The N2 is the N2 - drivers were fairly courteous, most of them moving over to let you pass. Approaching Mossel Bay there was a marked change in temperature as the cool sea air came funneling inland - necessitating a stop to put on a long sleeved Polartec vest. I had elected not to take a leather jacket, instead electing for a waterproof Ventex jacket and various grades of Polartec vests underneath. I never had cause to regret that, as everything could be scrunched up small and stuffed into panniers. We finally arrived at Mount Pleasant hotel at 1630 and moved into a very pleasant chalet about 30 meters away from the lake’s edge. I’ll draw a veil over the braai that evening, suffice it to say that most of Jane’s wine didn’t make it home.

SATURDAY

The wedding was at 1530 so we didn’t get much riding in that day, but did manage to go inland for about two hours to explore the backroads, and came through the Phantom Pass to Knysna. One doesn’t realise the beautiful countryside,off the national roads as one usually just rides through intent on the next destination. I certainly never realised that the countryside around Sedgefield was so beautiful - lots of small lakes with farms tucked around them, beautiful lush scenery. The wedding was a real hoot with the best man making a total asshole of himself and eventually collapsing under a table. Most of the guests were from the Eastern Cape and boy, can they put it away! Eventually crawled off to bed, with most of the guests just getting into the swing of things.

SUNDAY

After a breakfast consisting mainly of black coffee and orange juice, I loaded the bike and said farewell to Jane. Brilliant sunshine heralded a good day, or so I thought. Heading east through Knysna the clouds became more and more grey and threatening. Just as I reached Plettenberg Bay the first drops started coming down and I dived into the one-stop to put on rain gear. For the rest of the day I had constant rain, ranging from torrential to a heavy drizzle. Took the two old passes on either side of Natures Valley with a quick stop in between to admire the scenery (as much of it as I could see). At the bottom of the Grootbrak Pass I decided to stop and to check if everything was still watertight. Parked the bike on the side of the road on what seemed to be firm ground, swung my leg over and horrors, the bike just kept following me, sidestand sinking into the mud. Much cursing and swearing as this had happened to me before and I knew there was no way I could right the bike without unloading it completely. Cursing and swearing not being of much use I duly unpacked everything and heaved the bike upright. This wasn’t achieved without having to slew the bike around (on it’s cylinder head) 180 degrees to take advantage of the slope. Those BMW engine guards really work!! Repacked the bike and sat down in the mud for a smoke - fags all wet, curses. Directed a special curse at the gods of rain as well as the two Gauteng assholes who passed me in my hour of need. Two mad Dutch cyclists came cycling down the hill, draped in ponchos, bikes festooned with backpacks and camping gear. We had a companionable chat, steadily getting wetter, though at the time it didn’t seem to matter. They were on their way from Port Elizabeth westwards, much as the fancy took them. I couldn’t help feeling that I should be heading back westwards as well! Carried on eastwards and had a brief stop at the Storms River Mouth to admire the gorge, which shrouded in mist and rain was even more beautiful than usual. Hard to believe that a dozen people had lost their lives there the previous weekend. Through Humansdorp and onto Jeffreys Bay. Thunder and lightning everywhere, the storm almost directly overhead. By now even my wet weather gear was starting to call it a day. One wonderful thing about Polartec, it keeps you warm even when it’s wet. Found the nearest caravan park and gratefully dived into the nearest chalet , out of the rain. Was really disappointed as I had hoped to make it to Kenton-on- Sea for the night, but realised there wasn’t much point in driving on if I wasn’t enjoying myself. Spent the evening drying kit (amazing how useful the Sunday Times is, stuffed into helmet and boots!) and repacking my bags, lining them with plastic liners. Rain was still pelting down when I turned in at 9pm.

MONDAY

At least it had stopped raining although the skies eastwards still looked threatening. Went to pay for the chalet and the girl in the office asked me if I was a pensioner and offered me a discount. There are some uses for grey hair!! Got to Despatch and the heavens opened again. The weather forecast had been particularly gloomy for that region and I suddenly had had enough and turned round and headed west. Through Humansdorp (again) and this time taking the R62 through the Langkloof. Assegaaibos, Kammiesbos, Joubertina and Avontuur. The names very evocative, the villages less so. Even so , great scenery, serious fruit country, orchards everywhere, the weather gradually lightening as I moved further west. So much for the Eastern Cape!

At Avontuur turned northwards for Uniondale through the Uniondale Pass - very twisty, much like Bains Kloof, pity it was only 13 kms long. Saw no sign of the famous Uniondale ghost, though maybe she only comes out at night. Stopped at the Royal Hotel for lunch - not a patch on the one at RK. The weather was definitely improving - I even saw the sun a couple of times. The usual bunch of locals gawking at the bike, “How fast does it go?, What does it cost?, Where are you going? You must be mad!! ” etc.etc.

Next stop was Willowdale - interesting country here as you go through the Witteberge, a mixture of Karroo with mountains thrown in. Ostrich, sheep and pricklypear groves galore. To my surprise I met my two Dutch cyclists again, still bravely pedaling along heading for Willowdale another 35 k ahead. Had a roadside reunion - they were heading for Upington and then returning via the West Coast to CapeTown. I could only shake my head in amazement as I drove off. After Willowmore there is a long, boring stretch to Aberdeen. This area must have experienced heavy rains in the near past as there were huge lakes of water on either side of the road. Portend of things to come. Stopped at the Beervlei Dam which had all it’s sluice gates open and made quite an impressive sight with huge cascades of water rushing out.

Ten kilometers out of Aberdeen the heavens opened and suddenly I couldn’t see more than twenty metres in front of me. I just had time to pull over to the verge and switch the hazard lights on. It only lasted for ten minutes but even so my gloves were soaked through. Graaf Reinet was anther 50 ks ahead and I decided to overnight there. Another downpour as I entered GR with the streets awash with six inches of water. I slowly splashed my way to the caravan park and retired into a friendly chalet.

TUESDAY

Was woken early by strange thumpings on the roof. Staggering outside I saw a troupe of vervet monkeys happily jumping up and down eating fruit from the overhanging tree. Tried to entice one down onto the bike with a half-eaten apple (thought it might be a good shot of a biker) but no luck, they were much too wary. The skies were still grey and threatening with an occasional light drizzle. I decided to remain another day here and explore the area. Just outside Graaf Reinet there is an area labelled Valley of Desolation which sounded interesting. It is part of the Karroo National Park and I turned into the Park, past the unmanned gate and rode into the hills. The road I was on was a circular one about 60 kms long and it took me into the foothills fringed with clouds. What a great ride - total stillness and quiet, I soon felt like I was the last human left on earth. A fair amount of small game about, tortoises, meerkats, duiker, a lone ostrich , one snake and surprisingly one donkey who looked at me suspiciouly as I passed. The road was fairly wet but reasonable going. Halfway along there was a small picnic spot, totally deserted, up on a hill, with the clouds just brushing by. Spread below was the Valley. Had lunch there and thought that this was indeed God’s country. Returned reluctantly to Graaf Reinet and went on a walkabout to explore the town. Colossal church right in the centre, with it’s spire dominating the village - like so many of these small towns the biggest and most obtrusive architecture was always the Ned Ger Church.

Returned to the campsite to see a truly amazing sight - “Das Rollende Hotel” - a large coach towing an equally large trailer, divided into 60 small sleeping compartments, each with it’s own small porthole. The elderly German tourists all piled out and industriously set up camp, only to have another thunderstorm send them all scampering for cover, some diving into the coach, others into the sleeping compartments. I wondered what the heirarchy of the bedrooms was, did the really elderly get the bottom compartments, while the more sprightly got the top bunks?

WEDNESDAY

Blue skies at last!! Headed west on Route 63 (Couldn’t find 66). Small dots on the map - Murraysberg, Hutchinson, Victoria West. All affirming their identies with huge white nametags, spelled out with white painted rocks on the nearby hills. Through the Sneeuberge which lived up to their name as it was bitterly cold. Loxton, Carnarvon, now deep into the Northern Cape with the road flattening out and almost totally deserted. More speed was called for here, with the BMW cruising happily at 160 kph with occasional bursts of 190 (BMW speedos are usually optimistic). I could almost see the fuel guage shrinking at these speeds so soon returned to a more economical 140. Past Williston I ran into a huge swarm of locusts which did serious cosmetic damage to the bike and my faceplate. First floods, now locusts, it sounded like the plagues of Egypt, I wondered what was next. The Hantam mountains start appearing before you here, which makes a pleasant change from the flatness.

Decided to overnight in Calvinia which is a decidely unremarkable place, apart from the usual (large) church. Driving back from the hotel (undistinguished , except for a remarkably pretty waitress, who also rides a bike), to the caravan park that evening, I was stopped by the local traffic officer on a routine roadworthy check. We went through the usual lights, indicators, licence routine and then he asked if he could check the brakes. When I said he could, he looked nonplussed for a moment and then admitted he didn’t actually know where the brakes were on a motorbike! Anyway we parted friends as business was slow that night and he had plenty of time for a chat. I had covered 715 km today which was my largest total yet, so retired early.

THURSDAY

I had a hankering to carry on north to see the Augrabies Falls so duly set off early. Eighty kms further on, towards Brandvlei, my spirits suddenly plummeted. The road stretched unbroken before me as far as the eye could see, with nothing to relieve the tedium but flat, flat country all around. Was it worth it? I thought not and took a secondary, gravel road from Brandvlei, southwest towards Loeriesfontein, then down towards Matjiesfontein. This was 120 kms of very good gravel, not too taxing, allowing speeds of about 85/90 kph. I saw the usual array of small wildlife here, with the only really remarkable sight being a large owl, fast asleep on one of these small concrete roadside tables that you see periodically. By the time I had stopped and returned, with the intention of taking a picture, he had gone. Just after Niewoudtville (home of the “Kubus King, anyone remember him?) is the really spectacular Van Rhyn’s Pass, fairly short but very steep. Descending into the valley the temperature must have gone up at least ten degrees in the space of a few kilometres. I had to find a roadside stop to do a discreet strip of various items of unneeded clothing. I wanted to see the OlifantsRiver wine area and was amazed at the size of Vredendal and Lutzville and the area in general. Someone told me later that they actually supply a huge tonnage of grapes to the Franschoek area. Very pleasant countryside, only marred (for me) by the heat. Rode to Strandfontein and enjoyed the cool sea breezes for a while and walked on the beach.

Then back through Vredendal and Klawer (more vineyards) and onto the R7 for the short drive to Clan William. I entered the Municipal Park (prominently displaying several “No Motorcycle” signs) and secured a really pretty chalet about two hundred metres from the lakes edge. The only other occupants of the place, a couple from Springs, came and told me that they too, when they were retired, would like to cruise around on motorbikes and see the country. Another dig at my grey hair?

FRIDAY

Today was the day to bite the bullet and head into the Cedarberg. I took everything off the bike, donned a rucksack and headed south for a small place called Kriedouwskrans. From there, eastwards towards the Algeria forestry station. For those of you who know the Cederberg , descriptions are unnecessary. For those of you who don’t, it’s one of the truly magnificent wilderness areas of South Africa, right in the mountains, still totally unspoilt , offering truly spectacular hiking and offroad trails. The going was difficult, as the BMW was really too heavy for this type of track. I had to proceed really slowly on most sections and stopped fairly frequently to fiddle with the suspension settings until I got something which I felt comfortable with. I was cursing myself for having forgotten my camera, as there were several really spectacular bits of scenery which I would like to have recorded. I probably got overconfident (if one can call 45 kph that) but I suddenly hit a patch of really soft, deep sand which I hadn’t noticed, the front wheel dug in the back slewed around and I was flying through the air, leaving the bike behind. Luckily I landed in the same soft sand and suffered nothing worse than a mouthfull of grit and a severely dented ego (well OK, a couple of bruises as well). Carrying on even more carefully ,(I won’t bore you with the second fall, it was more or less a repeat of the first), I eventually reached Citrusdal and as the heat was now getting really oppressive, headed back to ClanWilliam on the R7. Although I had only covered about 200 kms today, I felt absolutely hammered.

SATURDAY

George had arranged to meet me in Lamberts Bay at around 1500. As I was only about 60 kms away, what should I to do with the rest of the day? Working on the principle that one should always get back on the horse that throws you, I decided to tackle the pass to the north ,the Ouberg pass. This was much easier going than the previous day and eventually I reached the top to have a truly spectacular view of the surrounding countryside. Why was going down that much harder than going up? I had fairly blasted up, (relatively speaking) but came down very gingerly. Anyway, collected my gear, checked out of the chalet and headed for Lamberts Bay. Checked in to the Marine Protea at noon and went exploring;. Thick fog covered the town which only lifted mid-afternoon and provided the perfect vehicle for the really ripe fish-oil smell which the factory was spewing out. Ah, sweet memories, I used to be mate on a coastal tanker picking up the occasional load of fish-oil! Walked to Bird Island, the bird sanctuary where thousands of seabirds are busily increasing the guano layer, then had a walk on the beach and watched the surfers.

George duly arrived at 1600 on the Goldwing and the two bikes made a brave sight, parked outside the front steps. We duly retired to the bar to slake our thirst and then had a very pleasant supper, followed by a couple of liqueurs to aid the digestion afterwards. I think we both slept well that night.

SUNDAY

I was getting the feeling that the trip was now over and home and wife were beckoning. Intrusive thoughts of green swimming pools and lawns to be mown were getting ever stronger. Still we managed a very nice breakfast and set off for home at 9 o’clock. I really enjoyed riding with a companion after having been on my own for a week. We stopped frequently for butt breaks and a chat and decided to stop at Riebeeck Kasteel’s Royal Hotel for a midday beer. I can compliment George for not having left his indicators on, not even once! Shades of déjà vu as we pulled up outside the pub. I almost expected to see all the IGUB bikes pulled up in a neat row but sadly we were the only ones there. The rest of the trip was an anticlimax - we stopped at the Swartland one-stop to offload the beer and then rode our separate ways. Two blocks from home I had a close shave with an old lady in an old Austin who didn’t quite see the stop street. Thought it quite ironic that after a week of highway riding, I should have a close quarters situation so close to home! Rolled into the driveway at 1500.

I had had a week of pure fun.

For the technically minded : the BMW covered 3527 kms, swallowed 212 litres of petrol, giving an average of 16.65 km/litre. It used absolutely no oil during the trip. Apart from being too heavy for the mountains, it is an absolutely wonderful tourer, with a range of 300 kms between refills.

Tags: Trip reports