Your view to the right....

When you are approaching Pemba in Mozambique from the south and you are sitting on the right hand side of the plane, this this is basically what you see before landing.....

Getting Airtime

I was fortunate to be at the Red Bull King of the Air competition which was held in Cape Town recently. The event which went into a dormant stage for 8 years because of the lack of sponsors was brought alive again by Red Bull. Choosing Cape Town as a venue cold probably not be matched easily. Most pro’s are “hibernating” in Cape Town during the “off” season in the northern hemisphere.  I guess most of the participants were not invited, they were here already. This also gave the opportunity for some locals to enter as “’wild cards”. Talent there is in South Africa, they just need a stage like they had at Big Bay. Well done to the Saffas who competed and did exceptionally well against some of the world’s best. 

The jumping was amazing. Unfortunately I cannot say the same for the photography. I realized that a photographer cannot be a spectator at the same time. I went early to get a nice spot with a good view over Big Bay. That is where I stood most of the time trying to get a good snap of some of the jumps. It wasn't long before I experienced the difficulties of taking action pics from one spot over a long distance. Apart from the fact that the distance was a bit more than what my lens could handle, focusing was also a problem. Secondly the backdrop of the ocean was also “interfering” with the outcome of the detail.  I have certainly not mastered the skill yet of capturing kite surfers from a distance. I guess in the end one has to decide what is more important; getting nice shots of the action or keeping your spot where you can view the action.

Whatever the outcome of the pictures, the day was still awesome. It is amazing to see what some guys are capable of doing with their kites. Maybe I should work on my own jumping skills and leave the photography to the people who know what they are doing. 

Why we ride bike

Ever wondered why people ride dangerous machines to work? Beating the traffic might be the only answer to that one, but take the "to work" out of the question and you end up with this clip for an answer. Let's use the cliché about pictures saying more than words....

 Well done to the guys who put this together. Seeing that I have also contributed a milli-second of footage to this I am sure I can post this on my blog and pretend I also know the answer.

 

The Downwind Drop-out

I wasn't aiming for a spot under the first 10, for that I had too little experience and skill. My aim was just to finish. But it was not that simple...

The Langebaan Downwind Dash is an annual sailing event starting from Langebaan and ending after a 20 km slalom course in Saldanha. If my kite choice was correct and I didn't loose my board on the way...OR my way on the board, then finishing would be no problem. I was walking around the beach earlier in the day to see what size kites the guys were rigging up, but was still concerned that I might be over-powered on my 10 Cabrinha Switchblade. The wind prediction for late afternoon was quite strong and one never knows how strong the wind blows on the open sea. The option to take my 7 Nomad was scrapped when the event organizers announced that the race will start 30 minutes later than planned due to their "only problem for the day"....the lack of wind. 

When we lined up for the start I could already feel that even my 10 might not be able to get me smoothly to Saldanha. After I dropped my kite on the first leg of the course while trying everything in my power to get decent pull, I knew I was in for a tough race. Everyone was frantically throwing their kites up and down to get speed. After the first turn I eventually got momentum but still wondering if I should continue or terminate my attempt at the second turning point which is close to Mykonos Beach. 

The third leg was going quite well. I overtook a few wind surfers who obviously are more expensive on wind consumption than me. I realized that the next turning point was quite far so I decided not to look ahead, but to take it ripple by ripple just following the guy in front of me. At some point, just to make sure I was still heading in the right direction, I looked up and realised that someone must have switched off the fans ahead of me. Around the area where the iron ore jetty runs into the bay, kites were scattered all over the water surface. I realised that the wind must have dropped and it wasn't long after that when my kite also starting giving up instead of staying up. I slowly sunk back into the water and knew that all I need to do now was to keep my kite in the air and wait until the wind picks up again. I didn't want to sail into the "doldrums" and also end up with a kite on the water, so I decided to hang around where I was with the hope of getting wind again soon and watch when they start going again. I was about three and a half kilometres from shore. I knew that if did't get my kite in the air again I was going to drift downwind towards the iron ore jetty. My aim was to finish the race, not slowly collide with a protruding iron obstacle. All I could do was wait.

After a couple of minutes struggling to keep the kite up, my kite dropped to the sea surface like a red autumn leave. Unless the wind pick up considerably I knew I was NOT going to get it in the air again. With only my kite board for support and feeling that I cannot stay afloat any more I decided to reel myself in towards my kite so that I could at least hold on to my kite. This is the standard procedure for rescuing yourself in the event of a kite "failure" deep at sea. The next step is to start praying but I was not there yet. I wasn't too worried as the organisers promised at least 10 rescue boats and I was not the only one at that point with my kite in the water. From where I was floating I could see at least 10 more kites down. Only after a while my thoughts started wandering towards programs I have seen on National Geographic Wild and the shark cage diving I did a few months ago. The water was quite murky and I was sure that underneath me were spectators of a different kind checking out the Downwind Dash from a different angle and different reasons.

After spending about 30 minutes going nowhere other than closer to the jetty, a boat with a friendly couple came past and offered to help. At this time there were already 40+ kites in the water and no NSRI boats in sight. I got in, was offered a Heineken and started helping pulling out other drop-outs from the water. Funny though that they have all watched the same programs on National Geographic Wild and seemed to have had the same concerns I had.

In the end there were probably 90 or more kiters who did not make it to the finish line, including me of course, so I don't feel to ashamed for my "Downwind Drop-out". It was a big disappointment though, but I guess if your largest kite is a 10 and the wind stops blowing then it can be called "circumstances beyond my control". There were even size 14 kites that did not make it. All I can do now is wait for next year and try again. This time I am only entering if gale force winds are predicted.

Thanks to Mark And Alli who was so kind to rescue us. Mark is also a kite boarder who decided on the day to skip the race and do the boat thing because he had concerns about the lack of wind as well. In the end the boat ride back to shore was quite pleasurable as well. I might not have come back with a prize, but I do have a nice story to tell....

Explore Africa

Go check it out....

If you ever happen to find yourself in Plett (Plettenberg Bay) again and you just want to get away from it all then head down Piesang Valley Road and go find yourself a spot to relax and to fill your stomach at the same time. I've been to Plett a few times, but funny enough I've never stayed over until recently when I joined a couple of varsity friends for a little reunion. I discovered a new playground, but yet again I didn't have any of my toys with me, so with my family and friends we headed down to Earth Cafe. 

Earth Cafe is part of the Global Village and a few kilometres outside Plett on the Piesang Valley Road. I was amazed when I saw the quaint little place in the middle of what could easily be called "the bush" and even though we were just going to have a small breakfast we stayed for a couple of hours just relaxing and forgetting that we need to be back at work on Monday. The place has a fantastic feel to it and you cannot imagine that close by is the bustling holiday town of Plett and a few kilometers north runs the busy N2 highway. Although I only had a small breakfast, it is definitely worthwhile checking out the menu. Food you can eat with your eyes first.  

I spoke to the owner and asked him whether he does not want to create a camping site for bikers, but from the look I got and guess I will need a bit more convincing. I am even prepared to push my bike for the last couple of meters not to disturb the silence. Take your family there and enjoy this gem, you will easily forget that there are things like work and cities in your life as well.

South African Xmas Tree

Revival Tour 2013

In 2012 I didn't do nearly as many trips I would have liked to. I decided that 2013 was going to be different, so I did my first trip on the 1st of January and called it my "Revival Tour". What was supposed to be a four day trip however ended after two days mainly because of two reasons. On the second day I landed mid-day at Matjiesfontein where I was supposed to overnight and had no idea what I was going to do with myself for the rest of the afternoon besides maybe taking some pictures and visiting the museum. Riding on seemed like a better option at the time. Secondly my "patched-up" topbox which had been "repaired" after a previous fall fell off with all my camera equipment inside. Fortunately this sturdy BMW top box could give any Coleman cooler box a run for its money and my cameras survived a second crash. I was however not prepared to take it for a third bashing seeing that it has survived two already and the third time might be interpreted as "pushing my luck". I was also not going to spend a whole afternoon in Matjiesfontein musing on whether I should continue my tour with a dodgy topbox or head straight home and postpone the last part of my trip until a next time.

My initial plan was to take as much footage of my trip with my Sony Handycam and compliment it with a few  shots from my GoPro attached to my helmet. I had my SLR camera also on board hoping for some nice photo opportunities at various locations like Matjiesfontein, Barrydale, Prince Albert, etc. The ideas was to create a nice 20-minute movie of my Revival Tour for my blog...

On New Year's Day I left Cape Town at 6:30, headed for Worcester via the Du Toitskloof Pass and stopped quite frequently along the way to gather footage. It was actually cold most of the way with temperatures ranging from 15 degrees to 21. I knew I had the whole day to get to Mossel Bay, so I was really just cruising along absorbing the scenery. At Seweweekspoort I planned a quick "in-and-out" ride because I have never been through Seweweekspoort before. It would be the only "no t-shirt yet" section of my whole trip and I was really excited to see what the place looked like. What a lovely road and scenery.   Unfortunately it was not exactly what I was expecting to see and experience. I was a bit disappointed but think it was because of reports I have read and an image I have created about this "must-do" poort that created the exeptionally high expectations. Compared to roads like Prince Alfred Pass, Gamkaskloof, Montagu Pass and even Meiringspoort it was not as adventurous and exciting as I had hoped for. I was planning on spending at least two or more hours in the poort for footage, but eventually did the 40km through and back in less than an hour. I was also totally appalled at the amount of rubbish that was floating in the rivers and blowing around the picnic spots. I guess after New Year celebrations that could be expected, but it really was a sad face to see on such a beautiful morning.

The rest of the way to Mossel Bay via Oudtshoorn and the Robinson Pass was well concluded with a braai at my brother-in-law's.

My second day started at around 7 am and I left for the Montagu Pass via the old road to George passing through Blanco. The Montagu Pass to me is really spectacular and I have spend lots of time on that pass before. I remember years ago when I still thought it would be the biggest challenge to do it on a mountain bike. I did it a few times since then and every time I go there I just want to stay there as long as I can. It's really worth going early in the morning when everything smells fresh with its cool and damp shaded areas and "foresty" smell. It was here that I realised with utter disgust that all the files on my Handycam from the previous day were corrupted. It would not be the first time that I have lost all the files on this stupid little video recorder, so my hopes of retrieving it was lost along with my "Producer" aspirations. I never took many pictures with my SLR on the way either so it was left up to the GoPro to save the day...and the tour for that matter.

After the Montagu Pass I joined the queue of Gauteng motorist heading towards Oudtshoorn and for them eventually towards a province they sadly call "home". I was thinking how bad it must be to be driving back to Gauteng after a holiday on the South Coast and shouted a little "Thank You Lord it's not me!" inside my helmet. When I drove into Oudtshoorn I let go of my handle bars to stretch my arms and nearly lost control because of a wobbling front wheel. I stopped to check it out thinking that I might have lost one of the little wheel balancing weights, but it was not that. I was a bit worried as I have never felt that wobble before. I've had concerns with an "unstable front suspension" since I bought the bike. Compared to my previous F800GS the handlebars just feel very loose at high speeds and now all of a sudden it does weird things at slow speed as well. With the Swartberg Pass still beckoning to be conquered and no Motorad support in Oudshoorn (nothing found on my iPone) I decided to move along and hope for the best.

I was doing about 80 kph all the way to the foot of the Swartberg Mountains frequently letting go of my handlebars hoping that the wobble would have mysteriously disappeared. Later I slightly got used to the wobble and decided to focus on the ride rather than the possibility of getting tank-slapped before I reach my final destination. There were quite a few vehicles on the pass already, as well as mountain bikers thinking they were mean to do it on leg power. I also thought that long time ago when I crossed the Swartberg Pass on a mountain bike but then I discovered the engine-driven two-wheeled mode of transport and never felt the need to "prove myself "again. By this time of my trip I was just using my GoPro for footage and decided that I will make short clips of the passes in case someone would be interested to look at it. It might give an idea of what the passes look like and the road conditions. Maybe I can prevent someone from having a disappointment like I had at Seweweeks or make them more relax for an upcoming trip across the mighty Swartberg Mountains.

The ride over the pass was excellent as usual. I am always amazed by the engineering and commitment that must have gone into the planning and construction of the pass. I drove past the turn-off to The Hell and smiled because of a previous experience I had there with a mate's Buel that made it there but only half-way back. I was a bit sad when I reached the end of the pass and was contemplating going back again just to do the long uphill section to the top. I prefer going UP passes and hate the coming down part, but I still had to get to Matjiesfontein and was hoping on getting something to eat at Prince Albert before I finish the boring part of the day's route. The temperature already reached the high twenties, but after refuelling I decided to skip breakfast and head straight on to Matjiesfontein.

The stretch to Prince Albert Way and the N1 to Laingsburg was exhausting and boring as usual. On the N1 the oncoming traffic was hectic but did not bother me much. I was more trying not to fall asleep and with a strong side/head-on wind struggling to keep my bike on the road. I stopped for "breakfast" in Laingsburg around noon and with a full stomach on my way to Matjiesfotein I hit the bump which dislodged my topbox and send it flying through the air. Fortunately for me I heard it fall on the tar behind me and I immediately stopped to retrieve it and roughly calculate a ball-park figure on the damage. With around R15 000 worth of camera equipment inside I was a bit peeved off with myself for always wanting to fix things the "cheap way". Fortunately nothing was broken except maybe my motivation to continue the tour with this self-launching topbox. When I reached Matjiesfontain at  around 12:30 I had already made up my mind to push on. If it was going to be "homeward bound", then it was NOT going to be on the N1. I turned off at Touws River to go via Ceres and the Bain's Kloof Pass. With a wobbly front wheel and a shaky topbox I spend more time now checking my equipment in the rear-view mirror than checking the scenery ahead of me. I did however catch a glimpse of two elephants at the Aquila Nature Reserve just outside Touws River and was glad that I was still able to live in Africa with its wonderful wild life and screwed-up politicians.

When I reached Bain's Kloof Pass it was already 33 degrees. I switched on my GoPro for the last time and in between silly motorist and a precariously bouncing topbox I was rather relieved when I reached Wellington. There I stopped for a pie and Coke and from there on took a leisurely ride back home. I reached my house at around 4:30.

Doing over 1200 kilometres in two days is not really what I had planned, but what I was very pleased at was the fact that I started my new year with a bike trip. Maybe it did not go all that well, but it was lots of fun and a fantastic way to start the year. I am already thinking of new ways to use my GoPro and to sort out my luggage carrier issues and to have my front suspensions checked out asap. There is definitely a bike trip revival happening for me and it will hopefully continue far into 2013.

Below are the clips that I made from the passes. Rather boring to watch except maybe for the parts where I nearly left the road while looking back at the pass and the arsehole who didn't want me to pass him on the Bain's Kloof Pass. Unfortunately the quality on YouTube is also not as good as the files I uploaded, but the time it took to upload discouraged me from uploading again. No wheelies, sand monsters, skilled manoeuvres or exciting stuff, but at least a good idea of what the passes look like from the seat of a motorbike. 

Padkos

Enjoying the view over the Paarl Valley

I don't know if there is a proper English word for "padkos", but when translated it means food for the road. I am sure that every South African, Afrikaans or English will get a warm feeling of nostalgia when they hear the word "padkos". As kids we couldn't wait for that first stop early in the morning on our journey to wherever we were going for the food that was prepared for us the previous evening. Packing padkos was part of the planning for your vacation.  We stopped next to the road while other holiday makers flew past probably looking for a spot where they could also stop for their early morning meal, waving with one hand and standing with a jam sandwich or a hard boiled egg in the other.

Unfortunately with the erection of Shell Ultra Cities and the dangers of stopping next to a deserted road, the "padkos" traditions slowly died. Now and then you would still see people next to a highway having their padkos, but the Wimpy's and Steers's definitely took over in providing food to travellers chasing their destination completely oblivious to the fun they can have in between.

Today we had padkos like we used to in the early days. Maybe the menu has slightly changed, but in essence we had the same hard boiled eggs and sandwiches like we had in those early days. I just wish we could sit longer and appreciate what we have in this country of ours, enjoying the journey and not always rushing to get there fast and to eat fast.

No Bullshit Here

The closest I'll ever get to being a cowboy.....

It was fun though......

Holiday "Makers"

As a child I always wondered why people on holiday in English were called holiday-"makers". The Afrikaans word for holiday-maker is "vakansieganger" (holiday-goer), which when translated means someone going on a holiday, not making a holiday. I remember my school days in Durban where I never managed to shake the feeling of being on holiday, no matter which time of year it was. Durban always had a holiday vibe to it, similar to Cape Town, but work and school there were just as a reality as in most cities around the world. On the first day of going back to school I would always convince myself that the holiday wasn't really over; I was just going to be occupied for the morning and then I would continue my holiday in the afternoon when the morning "engagement" was over. This allowed me to gradually ease myself into the next term where I would eventually just spend time sitting in a classroom, studying and doing extra-curricular activities. With only my "open" afternoons and weekends left as extra "holiday", I managed to convince myself that I was not officially back at school yet and that I only had to cover a few "appointments" in the morning that I couldn't get out of.

I never lost that ability of continuing my holiday long into the reality of actually being far away from being on leave. I could easily be a real professional holiday-maker, but unfortunately that occupation does not put food on the table and was not in the "My Career" books we had to struggle through during Guidance lessons at school. I still believed those days that the more money you had the better holidays you can afford when you grow older so I always searched for doctors, lawyers and rocket scientists as possible career choices. Fortunately that view has changed over the years and today I believe that your whole life should be "a holiday" and that working your back-side off to have two weeks in the Bahamas is NOT what life is about. Those two weeks costs a lot of money and two weeks after your holiday when you find yourself back in the office you cannot even remember what it felt like to be on holiday in the first place. The secret is to live a life where you create "holiday" opportunities as you go along and  the need to go to the Bahamas to regain your sanity is something you leave to the poor rich people with lots of money and little time.

It sounds very simple, but I agree that a few things needs to be in place before you can live a life of "permanent holiday". For starters you should NOT have a job where you work 14 hours a day to reach deadlines. Weekends should be yours and not spend on an airport or behind a laptop. Living in a place where there is a holiday vibe like Cape Town or Durban is a bonus and being able to switch off from reality and transcend yourself into a "holiday mood" is a pre-requisite for this to work.

Sea view missing

The last couple of days I have been trying to find a nice coffee shop where I could have a "holiday break" before I go to the office in the mornings. I work in town now and although Carlucci's was probably the best spot I had so far, this one needs to be closer to work. I've tried a few spots along Mouille Point and even though there are some good contenders I still have not found the right substitute for Carlucci's.  The place has to have a good view over the sea or the mountain, it has to be close to work with easy parking and it should have an all-year-round holiday vibe. These are non-negotiable requirements. This morning I went to The V&A Waterfront to see what's on offer there. I was quite surprised to see how many people were hanging out at coffee shops so early in the morning before work. I guess 90% are holiday "goers" and 10% holiday "makers" like me. Sitting there watching the people while striking up conversations with strangers allowed me to forget about work and to create a feeling of being on holiday as well. The smell of coffee mixed with sea air and breakfast all added to the experience. 

The search will continue because I have not found my perfect coffee shop yet, but this morning I came pretty close I must say. The sea view unfortunately was missing from this particular spot.  As long as I can retain the ability to "make" my own holidays when I'm not on holiday I should be able to get the much needed breaks I require at times. The ingredients are out there, you just need to mix it according to the "Holiday Recipe" and once you have acquired that skill I guess you can revel in the fact that you can be "permanently" on holiday.

Getting out on parole

I think this year marks my 10 year anniversary of my first trip to Angola. For the past 10 years I have been visiting at least twice a year staying usually for a week or two at a time.  My first impression of Luanda was something I never managed to shake despite seeing how Luanda was progressing as a capital and building itself up brick by brick. Buildings where people lived in squalor and literally threw their toilet waste from the windows were turned into buildings where the sunset over the Ilha is mirrored into the faces of Angolans striving for a better life. The number of building cranes over the skyline of Luanda is probably the highest I've ever seen in any city, a sign of a developing country that had been torn apart by a civil war before and is now building itself up.

My travels to Luanda felt to me like a death sentence. I was here for work and on weekends I stayed in the staff house which is walking distance from the Marginal but never leaving it. Weekends were terrible torture with no access to transport and with clear instructions not to venture outside the staff house due to security issues. The only entertainment I had was the Internet and staff house swimming pool. Discussing the latest mugging that was recorded in our safety records made escaping from the “prison cells” of the staff house sound like a bad idea. The Marginal was a no-go zone and despite the fact that construction work prevented anyone from walking there, the company’s “Welcome Booklet” didn’t encourage it either. In a period of ten years I never walked alone in the city of Luanda and I dreaded any upcoming visit to Angola.

I am again in Luanda over a weekend and the Marginal which were closed for most of the last couple of years has officially been opened. Instead of chewing through my wrists again this time I decided to break free and go explore no matter what the consequences might be. My current state of mind is screwed up for more than one reason and I needed to pick myself up.  At 10’0 clock this morning the gates of the staff house opened in front of me and I ventured out on my own to go see the new Marginal. I crossed the main street where the traffic lights show the countdown in seconds to when the light is going to change, something I have never seen before in my life. Waiting for 70 seconds before the walking man  turns green can take some getting used to, but I didn’t want to cross on a red light thinking that I might as well use the new technology that was put in place for a reason. I suddenly felt alive in Luanda like a prisoner who has just been let out on his first parole. It was like a new world opening in front of me and the feeling of being sentenced when my presence in Luanda was requested quickly disappeared.

The new Marginal is basically the walkway in front of the city facing the bay area. Once an area where muggers took shelter and preyed on foreigners has been turned into a pleasure zone for the people of Luanda to enjoy. Young people were playing basketball, doing the stuff that most kids would so in South Africa, with benches, parks, play grounds and enough area to roller blade, ride bike or skateboard until the sun goes down. I walked for about an hour from the one end to the other and back and wasn’t approached by anyone begging for money or making me feel uncomfortable.  I uttered a few Bon Dia’s and was friendly greeted back. It looked a lot like Sea Point in Cape Town and the vibe was not far removed either. One thing I did notice though was that there were no tuck shops to buy cool drinks or water. I needed this because with more than 30 degrees Celsius minutes after ten a clock I could not help but wonder why there are no shops around. I noticed a few mobile police stations and even though I usually stay clear of anyone in uniform in any African country I didn’t feel threatened by them either. I guess the amount of people walking their dogs and taking their kids out made me feel much more relaxed. I took a few pictures and decided that on my next visit I am bringing my roller blades along. A weekend in Luanda does not have to be a prison sentence anymore. It took me ten years to get out and I am planning on staying out. The other issues that Luanda still has I will try and solve with the same attitude I saved myself with this weekend.

New buildings (oil companies)

Fort of São Miguel of Loanda.

I can kick myself...

When I walk out of my house and I see a sunset like this then I can kick myself for not being on the beach at that moment....

Securing your girlfriend

OK, so I have not mentioned that I lost my GoPro a couple of weeks ago. I used the head strap while kite surfing and despite tying my wetsuit's zipper-chord to the head strap the knot somehow came undone. A wave hit the camera and head strap off and it dropped in the water. Unfortunately before I went in I also removed the little spongie that is supposed to keep it afloat because it was preventing me from setting it at the right angle. The idea was to capture the kite surfing action and not the sea gulls so I had no choice. In the end I captured the sea bottom but unfortunately I will never be able to see that footage.  It felt like I've lost my girlfriend at sea. I was heartbroken because of my loss. To avoid falling into a deep depression I did what any other guy would do to heal a broken heart and got me another one.

I learned from my previous mistake and this time I made sure that I was not going to lose this one as well. So instead of using the head strap which is probably only good for capturing the chicks in front of you while doing a fun walk for a local charity cause, I decided to do a proper mount on my bmx/skateboard/paragliding helmet. Not only did I screw in the GoPro bracket instead of being content with the 3M adhesive tape, I also made sure that I have at least two tethers attached to the helmet. One made out of steel (wire leader for fishing) and the other of unbreakable nylon string used in rock climbing. As if that wasn't enough I connected a leash to the helmet which clips onto my harness, just in case I lose the helmet. I doubt whether I will lose the harness. I put the orange floating sponge back on and secured the waterproof casing clip with a piece of bicycle tube cut into the shape of a calamari ring. To make double sure the helmet will not go down as fast as the previous one, I cut a piece of my son's swimming noodle to size and attached that to the helmet as well...in bright green colour. To some it might look like an overkill but if you do not want to lose your girlfriend again you do just that; you spend the money and time, put various of rings on her finger and hope for the best. I think I have turned my ordinary helmet into more than just a GoPro carrying device. I think it can now be used as a life saving device as well, I just need to have it certified. This one might be for life.

So yesterday I went in again to see if I could capture my first kite surfing video with my GoPro and manage to bring the evidence ashore. The wind was around 10-12 knots so I just managed to get away on my 10 kite. There were no waves but the water was really an awesome colour. I managed to get this 8 minute video with absolutely NO action whatsoever on it. WARNING: If you don't have 8 minutes to waste in your life, don't watch this. I think the only person that will appreciate this is my mom, so this is for her.

Now I am waiting for better conditions and then I will work on my clip selection and editing.

A Breakfast Too Far

Route Map

It's been months since I had my last proper bike ride. I think my wife realized the same because she suggested that I go on this 400km circle route to Citrusdal via Ceres and the Koue Bokkeveld (Cold Goat Fields) with a couple of friends. I also thought it was a good idea because not only would I have a chance to get in the saddle again, but also a chance to try out my GoPro on the Bike. 

When we left Melkbosstrand at around 8:15 we were a posse of 8 riders all on Bee-ems. Three were road bikes so their plan was to turn around when we run out of tar. The rest would carry on over the Winterhoek Mountains to Citrusdal. The plan was to have breakfast at a place called Oppie-Berg (On the Mountain). Just after that the gravel road starts. The first part of the trip was rather boring and uneventful. Riding familiar roads in a group of 8 isn't very exciting. The only excitement was keeping up with the roadies who got bored for other reasons. The ride only became worthwhile after we left Ceres. For me this was unexplored territory and a getting much closer to that well-needed breakfast. We took a few shots at the top of the mountain and headed for Oppie-Berg.

Looking back toward Ceres

Oppie-Berg is a one horse town and sadly it looked as if the horse had passed away just before our arrival. The dorpie (town) must've gone to the funeral because everything was closed. One guy suggested to go look if he could find another joint for breakfast but returned approximately 25 seconds later with a smile on his face indicating that he covered the whole town with no luck. The roadies turned back to Ceres and four of us took on the Mighty Winterhoek Mountains to continue our search for breakfast.

It was here where I decided it was time to start using my GoPro. I was hoping for some nice shots on the gravel pass. After deflating our tyres a little we hit the gravel. I was behind hitting the dust rather and pretty soon I realized that I was not going to see much if my lens was covered in dust all the time. At some point I stopped to clean the lens allowing the other guys to move on ahead of me. This helped a bit in the end, but the angle of my camera was way too low and I basically took pictures of my handle bars all the way. I will know next time to ride in front and to tilt the camera a bit upwards. I was so aware of the camera all the time that I actually missed the excitement of riding gravel again. Actually the gravel bit was so short it was just enough to dirty the bikes and not the minds and using the word "mighty" in "Mighty Winterhoek Mountains" was a slight over-exaggeration on my part

Having a break

Looking towards Citrusdal

When we arrived in Citrusdal we learned that the people there also went to the dead horse's funeral at Oppie-Berg. Everything was closed. The only place we knew we were going to find something open was the Spur at Piketberg. That was three quarters of our total trip, about 120 kilometres from Cape Town. Had we done the route the other way around we could've stopped there earlier in the day and probably continued the ride for fun and not for food. The food at the Spur was good and well worth the wait. 

After "breakfast" which we had at 12:15 we headed home. This was N7 and a other piece of boring road. Cruising between 140 and 150 km/h made up for the boring part. When I arrived home my watch on my arm said 2:30 and the clock on the bike said 423 km. After all it was really nice to get out again, despite the disappointing pictures. Doing a 400-km trip in 6 hours is not bad, considering the stops we've made. I will definitely have to ride soon again to get that camera sorted. Pictures below shows the effect of dust on the lens.

After lens was cleaned

Before cleaning lens