Gravel Road Trip, Part 1 - (Tableview to Genadendal)

Bridge over the Sonderend River

When I left home at 7 am the only thing I was concerned about is the "weak cold front" that was lying behind me. With a 30% chance of rain I guess one does not have to worry, but when you are on a bike getting "30% wet" can turn into "100% wet" very quickly. My plan was 3 days of riding on as many gravel roads as I could possibly find, and the first one was waiting for me juts after the Theewaterskloof Dam. By the time I got to the bridge crossing the Sonderend ("Without end") River, I already had my frozen bits and my coffee to recover. Yet again it was bloody cold, and I am sure now that the thermometer on my bike cannot go lower than 2 degrees Celcius. There it stops and flashes, that's all. Like the battery sign flashes on my camera when it is about to die (pun intended). I guess no-one in his right mind sits on a bike when the temperature gets colder than that, or so they thought at BMW. Unfortunately to get as many daylight hours I left early and had to deal with this my way. Getting cold is one thing, but hitting mist and getting wet as well is a completely different story, especially if you are on a gravel road that becomes slippery, you cannot see through your visor and you have no feeling in your hands left. It sounds bad enough to turn around and go home, but I needed a story and was determined to continue.

The road sign I was looking for

Gravel road between R321 and R43

Across the bridge I turned left on my first gravel road. This would take me to the Villiersdorp road going to Caledon, and from there to my second gravel road towards Genadendal. At this point my hands were completely frozen, my nose running and my visor completely fogged up. Fortunately I left the fog soon and from there on it was just cold. At least I could see in front of me again, which is rather crucial when you are on a gravel road. I was thinking back to the first time I hit gravel with my bike and realized that my confidence level was so much higher right now. Once or twice I was swinging the bike around with my body weight just to get that loose feeling on the gravel.  The road was not very wet, despite the early morning mist. So when the sun came out and I could see again I was rather surprized at the good condition of the road. But, I was there to ride gravel roads and didn't say anything about the conditions they have to be in. Here I could enjoy the scenery without having to worry too much about the road. There are some beautiful farms along this road, and towards Genadendal I realized once again what a beautiful country this is. The road runs along the Riviersonderend ("River without an end") River which passes a town on the N2 with the same name. Riviersonderend.

Gravel road towards Genadendal

Riviersonderend River

Even this road was in a very good condition, although at times there were very slippery sections. This comes from water flowing down the mountains and seeping through from the bottom. Once you hit one of these spots you can feel how snotty it becomes. There was a bit more loose gravel than the first road and at some point some construction workers were working on the road making it flat again. One can see where the vehicles have left tracks when it was wet, and these deeper "trences" in the road were quite tricky to avoid. Once your front wheel enters one of these tracks then your bike tends to follow it while your body and mind goes straight forward. This could have disasterous consequences.

Just before I reached Genadendal the road was again tarred. This didn't bother me much as I already had quite a fun ride so far. I turned off into Genadendal to go see the first Moravian church that was built there in 1738. It reminded me a lot of Mamre, also a Moravian Mission Settlement and national monument. I took some pictures of the historical buildings and were approached by an old man who said to me "You have taken pictures of all these beautiful buildings, but do you know what it was that you have taken pictures of?" I could see that the old man was about to tell me the history of this beautiful settlement starting back in 1738 and taking it through to 2010. I realized that if I don't cut his story short I will never be in Bredasdorp before the sun sets. I excused myself saying that I still have long road ahead of me and promised him that I will be back with my whole family to visit his beautiful little town again. (I promised the same to the people in Mamre a couple of months ago). He also asked me if I was journalist and I was rather disappointed that the camera made a bigger impression on him than the bike that I arrived with, especially after I've been working harder on the biker image than the photographer image. From here it was about 5 kilometres to Greytown. I drove through the town and although just as beautiful as Genadendal I never stopped to take any pictures. I wanted to be on the road again and who knows, I might visit these two towns again as I promised.

Moravian Church (1738)

No idea what this is. Should've listened to that old man

The Rookie

When George Clooney was asked what makes a man attractive he said a sense of humour. Obviously he couldn't say "if he looked like me", but I was more hoping for him to say a man that can admit he is a rookie without coming over as a being an inexperienced wuss at the same time.  When Dave our navigator and "team leader" for the day pointed out that the route he had planned for us was done "with the most inexperienced rider in mind", I knew he was refering to me and I couldn't help but feel like a wuss at that point. John the Salesman invited me to join himself, Dave and Graham for a breakfast run that would include a large section of gravel road. I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to get over my recently acquired fear of any road that does not resemble something similar to a runway at the O.R Tambo International Airport . After my recent fall I felt rather inexperienced and embarrased to say the least and not wanting to look like a wuss I knew that something had to be done. So I said "Yes, count me in".

We met very early at the BP filling station at Klapmuts. Dave showed us the route he had planned out with his GPS and GoogleEarth and what-have you, but all I could see was the yellow lines representing gravel roads. Dave mentioned something about "doing some highway" but later explained that he calls any section of tarred road a highway and that there wouldn't be much on this trip. At 8.30 we were heading towards Bonnievale via Franschoek and Villiersdorp even though I was pretty sure that there was just one road to Bonnievale and as far as I could remember it was "highway" across Worcester. Dave and his GPS proved me wrong. When we hit the first dirt just after Villiersdorp I realized that there are more than one road indeed, but definitely not all tarred and definitely not all indicated on your average South African Road Atlas. At first I tried to remember the names of the little backroads we took, but when I touched that gravel road everything except my last fall was erased from my memory bank. Dave was so eager to get onto the dirt that he did not even stop to disable his ABS or to give me a small introduction as to what I can expect. Only when his GPS started getting confused somewhere in the Ouhangs Mountains we stopped for the first time and at this point John said to us it might be a good thing if we all switch off our ABS. At this stage we were doing maximum speeds of 60km/h on the gravel even though it felt to me like we were trying to take off to fly over to Bonnievale. When we decided to turn around the prospects of getting back onto tar made me feel a bit relieved, but the turn-off we missed was not very far back and we never saw that tarred road again. 

My biggest challenge at this stage was to find out what the bike can do on gravel, how far I can take it before it slips out underneath me and which section of the road has the least amount of loose gravel. Dave and John was ahead of me and Graham at the back followed me at a safe distance just to make sure I don't do the unmentionable and stay behind somewhere over a ledge. All I was thinking was that if John's bike can do it at that speed, then so can mine. At least we were both on a F800 GS. Dave was on a F650 GS and although he said it looks more like "a bike for a girl", he definitely was not riding like one. Neither was Graham, who took his girlfriend Brigitte along "just for the fun of it", on his 1100 Adventure . As I was going along I could feel my confidence grow with each kilometer we reeled in, but sharp corners and loose rocks still left me quite nervous. Thankfully we never hit sand, but that I want to leave for a later stage after my planned Introductory Course. Every now and then we crossed a very small section of tar and then I had time to breath in and breath out again. It felt as if my bike was glued to the tar in comparison with the gravel, so my confidence on tar was improving at the same time. By this time we were covered in dust, and every now and then the breeze would make it a bit easier for us to follow at shorter distances. When John and Dave disappeared in the dust I slowed down, not only to prevent myself from suffocating, but also because I could not see the road surface anymore. Thinking back I believe it is actually better not to see the surface, because it did not feel like the GS really minded where we were going and I wasn't worried about loose rocks on the road when I didn't see them. Just before Bonnievale we hit some drizzle that cleared all the dust and by that time it was a real pleasure to be doing around 90 km/h without the Klein Karoo dust powder in my lungs.

You think about a lot of things when you ride, but my thoughts on the last few kilometers before Bonnievale were spend mostly on food rather than the dangers of gravel riding. At 11.30 we stopped at a small cafe called Into Africa and had a very pleasant breakfast. There I took in some more tips from my more experienced companions. The road from Bonnievale to Robertson was all tarred, but just after Robertson we turned off onto another dirt road towards Elandia. This road would eventually meet up again with the road we came on, and by now I was standing up and riding like an experienced circus clown on a circus pony, a skill also needed when the road gets a bit rough...or when the sand appears from nowhere. At one point we were doing 110km/h and I even managed to push it up to 120 aiming to set my new gravel land speed record at the same speed as the national speed limit on our highways. At this point a little voice from nowhere started talking to me and I took it back to around 100. But the record was official and I was feeling really chuffed with myself.

On our way back to Villiersdorp we pushed the bikes to 160km/h on the straight tarred sections. I wasn't attempting to break my tarred land speed record that I set on my GV650 cruiser as well, but it was interesting to see what the GS could do on tar. But this was just on very straight sections and something I would never do again if I don't have to. Fortunately for me at some point sanity kicks in. The round trip was about 450 kilometers and I arrived back home at 4pm. The weather on route was perfect for biking, no wind and overcast with temperatures ranging from 21 to 33 degrees Celsius. When I arrived home I could feel that I have just spend about 7 hours in the saddle in a semi-crouching position. Despite that I was very pleased with my riding for the day. Just before we parted ways at Franschoek my fellow riders all agreed that my improvement since we started this morning was "fantastic". I might not have a good sense of humor and might still be a rookie in the eyes of many but at least I don't feel like a wuss anymore. I wonder if George Clooney would add that to his list...?

Mini-Breakfast Run

When I confirmed to John The Salesman that I will be using my new 800GS for commuting, I could see the disappointment on his face. He was probably thinking that it would be the same as your wife using your Z6 convertable to drop the kids at school every day. I don't blame him, why would one buy a Landrover Discovery to fetch bread and milk at the corner shop every day, or a GS to go to work with? Anyway, I was thinking that maybe I could take the scenic route to work every day, maybe this will make John feel better, so this is what I did this morning....

I live about 8 km from work, all through concrete jungle and hectic traffic. But I also live close to the nicest backroads and cross country roads. So this morning I decided that I will include a little mini-breakfast run on my way to work. I left home at around 7 and headed the opposite way towards Melkbostrand. I had all the morning peak traffic coming from the front, so I had an open road all to myself. At Melkbos I turned right towards the N7. On the N7 I headed towards Malmesbury. About 30 kms from Malmesbury is the Swartland Engine 1-Stop. I've never stopped there before, the place out there in the middle of nowhere always looked too deserted. When I saw the Wimpy sign I thought this could be the place to have my breakfast. I am a big fan of Wimpy breakfasts, so deserted or not, at least I knew what to expect on my plate. Boy was I surprized when I entered the Wimpy and found that the whole farming community goes there for early coffees and morning chit-chats. Rodwin the Waiter in true Wimpy style offered me the menu and I had something small to get the digestive system going. It was a breakfast run after all. And then of course my favourite Wimpy coffee, or milky coffee as my dad prefers to call it. I watched the people going in and out and realized that this must be a regular hang-out spot for many farmers and businessmen. They seemed to know every one in the way they greeted each other. I felt a bit like an intruder, but then again that mysterious biker image I so much love was starting to appear. I was hoping for someone to come up to me and say "And where are you from Stranger?", but I guess my Cape Town number plate ruined that moment for me. This might happen 800km further down the road somewhere in the Karoo maybe.

From the 1-Stop I headed for the Durbanville back roads, through a small farming settlement called Philladelphia and down Adderley Road onto the Malanshoogtepad. There I met my first gravel road ever. What an amazing feeling. This is why I bought the GS, to explore the dirt roads of Southern Africa and here it was lying in front of me. Sadly my pleasure ended very quickly when I discovered that the dirt road was just a small section of the Malanshoogtepad, but the twisties that awaited me further down the road made up for the disappointment. I then hit the Contermanskloof Road who is not shy with its twisties either. Here I started picking up morning traffic but on a bike, who cares? I just had an awesome ride to work this morning, and I still arrived before most of my colleagues. When I took it out from my topbox, I saw that the chicken salad my wife neatly packed for me for lunch was already mixed thoroughly, so that saves me some extra effort over lunch. But all-in-all I think John would be proud of me. I wonder where I will have breakfast tomorrow?