For our daughters

Dear Leilah, Maya and Tara - today's blog is for you three.  We started off this morning in Swakopmund, a funny little town on the beach in Namibia.  It is very cold there with heavy mist even though it is in the desert - because the water is very cold and comes from the Antarctic and hits the very hot and dry desert air.

We rode along the shore towards Henties Bay - it was very strange because the beach was full of toilets and nothing else.  There is a lot of good fishing along that coast - Leilah you would be able to catch a lot of big fish there.  We found a shipwreck - it was called the Zeila of Hangana and was a fishing boat that crashed onto the shore in a storm.

Zeila of Hangana

From there we went inland and the cold wet air quickly turned into dry desert air.  We wanted to see a big rock called the Spitzkoppe, so we went on a very sandy road instead of taking the main road.  We could see the Spitzkoppe off in the distance getting bigger and brighter as we approached it.  We stopped at the side of the road to stretch our legs before turning off, as we were standing there we took some photos of Gary and Debbie - as we were looking at them now we thought they look like Tellytubbies - what do you think?

lala

pinky-winky

The Spitzkoppe was amazing - its a HUGE rock with lots of little rocks on it and its split down the middle.  The road was full of sand around there and it made our bikes dance around a lot.

Pete at Spitzkoppe

We found a place to have a coffee and as we got there we were greeted by some funny little creatures.  They were very friendly young Meerkats and they loved to be cuddled and scratched.  They made funny squeaky noises as they talked to each other and had long conversations with us.

Black Debbie strikes a Meerkat Pose 

No Peter - you can't eat it....

Meet Pavarrrrrroootti

Tonight we are sleeping in Windhoek, the capital of Namibia.  There is a lot of excitement here because of the football and lots of cars are flying German flags.  We will have to come back here with you three some time - you would like it here!

Love Pappa and Daddy

Sunrise in Sossusvlei

We arrived in Sessriem in the early afternoon, the mercury was at 36 degrees and the desert was really showing us just how extreme its temperature fluctuations could be.  All accommodation options around Sossusvlei and Sessriem were priced a bit too high and so back into our tents we went.  The campsite was great and we pitched our tents under two big old acacias, trying to guess which the shadiest bits would be in the morning. We arranged for a 5:45am pickup to take us to see the sun rise over the vlei, bikes are not allowed into the park as a few years ago a group of bikers tore up the dunes - ruining it for the rest of us.

Grumpy Pete at 6am...

Sossusvlei

We staggered out of bed well before sunrise, but our shuttle never arrived, and so we stood around waiting as the heavens got lighter and we risked missing the show. Grumpy Gary went in search of alternatives, and came back with Philemon in Landrover Defender who was a superb guide.  He timed our first stop perfectly and we all ran around a dune taking photos of the breathtaking colours as they emerged with the light. The ride in to Sossusvlei is about 60km, and passes row after row of dunes, with a great big flat vlei in the middle littered with Oryx, Ostrich, Springbok and Bat-eared Foxes. A hot air balloon rose out of the desert in the distance, an enviable way to catch this sight.  The scenery was indescribably beautiful, and I am so glad that we managed to get there and experience it in all its glory.  Something that should be added to all your to-do lists!

Sunrise safari

Philemon our guide and driver

Cold morning

We eventually got into the heart of the dunes and hit some seriously heavy sand, we all giggled nervously at the thought of having to ride our loaded bikes through this stuff when we get to Botswana.  We hiked through the desert towards Big Daddy - the biggest dune in the area, and looked down on the Dead Vlei, a bleached white depression dotted with the dry out remains of hardy old desert trees.  Pete and I bounded straight down the face of the dune and onto the dead vlei where my camera decided to run out of battery when I needed it most. Good thing Pete had his fully charged.

Dead Vlei

Cold sunrise

Clearing sand from socks and shoes

Dunes at sunrise

Section!!!!!

After breakfast back at camp we bid farewell to my dad who is riding solo back to Cape Town. It's been brilliant having him along and we will all miss his company, his campfire stories and his do-anything approach to life. We watched his dust trail disappearing into the desert as he headed for Maltehoehe and we made our way further north to Swakopmund. We later learned that he covered over 500km that day, through heat, desert and the dreariness of Mariental, he made it as far as Keetmanshoop where he finally found a bed for the night.  We drank a toast in his honour that evening and expressed our desire to be able to do a trip like this when we are all 70.     

Pete asking "How does John Cross sit down?"

Our day off the bikes today turned into a day in the Duneworx Yamaha dealership in Swakopmund where Mario and his team looked after us with such enthusiasm and professionalism that we felt like part of the family.  I had an expensive day - my chain was overtightened when I bought the bike in Cape Town and it had stretched in one part of the chain.  This has deteriorated badly over the last few days and the bike was jerking badly.  A new chain, sprokets and dampers were needed, hopefully these will last for 20,000+ km now and get us to Nairobi and beyond!  Mario's team gave the the three Tenors a wash and blow dry, and we will leave on shiny bikes tomorrow complete with Duneworx Yamaha stickers!  

Mario, the Three Tenors and the African Horizons gang

Tomorrow we go in search of ship wrecks on the skeleton coast, a big rocky outcrop called Spitzkoppe and the booming metropolis of  Namibia's capital, Windhoek, with its staggering population of 265,000.

Adrenaline rush

How long can an adrenaline rush last?  Between the Fish River Canyon and Sossusvlei we road on the slipperiest surface I ever imagine possible, and we rode on it for hours and hours and hours.  Even Gun-it-Gary slowed down to 80Kph, unheard of in the annals of history.  The theory of twist the throttle if it gets wobbly worked, but sometimes the wobble continued through the twist, eventually you’re at the end of your throttle twist and the wobble is still there.  Directional Stability is the jargon of the day – the theory that your momentum will get you through any trouble as long as you keep the power on – and keep your wheels spinning for their added gyroscopic effect.  The counter-intuitive lesson for this road came from Pete – ride your rear brake while accelerating and the bike straightens up – strange but true!

Debbie, who has been unruffled and totally cool – able to simultaneously surf the web on her iPad, take photos, adjust the GoPro on Gary’s helmet and smoke an e-cigarette while Gun-it-Gary drifts through the bends, even Debbie was rattled by this road.  The only person who hasn’t appeared to be rattled is my dad, he’s just cool, cruising along, keeping up with the pace, never more than 5 minutes off.  The little blue squirrel has been officially renamed – the little blue fox – with the 3 hounds chasing it.  It goes to show that you don’t need to spend a fortune on a state of the art machine and do loads of mods to it, this incredible little machine just does its job effortlessly, suites my dad perfectly. He is putting us all to shame, taking a stock standard 11 year old hair-dressers bike with road biased tyres and just doing this trip at 70 years old is a humbling thing to observe. Gary is even talking about getting one and using it to make the KTM/Husaberg gang feel inferior – something I fully support. 

The hounds chasing the little blue fox down the slippery road

The adrenaline rush couldn’t come soon enough because our first night of camping at the Cañon Roadhouse at the Fish River Canyon was so cold the it had slowed our metabolic systems down to a virtual hibernation.  Pete wouldn’t shut-up about not having used his hot-water bottle. Our journey from the Canyon to Sossusvlei was slightly delayed because Dirty-Gary’s air filter was so manky that he had to give it a full diesel bath and even then it still wasn’t clean.  Just before our take-off we refuelled and I spotted a sticker from the soloscooterist on the fuel pump – Mike you’re a legend and we are honoured to be travelling in your 8-inch tyre tracks.

Cold camping in the desert

Homage to Mike the Soloscooterist

We took off at about 11 with the trip from the Canyon took us through more spectacular scenery, the journey to Sossuvlei was a bit too much to bite-off and chew in one sitting and so we spent the night at the Lovedale farm – farmed by the Campbell family since 1840.  This little guest farm provided the perfect respite for the night – great little cottages with geese, peacocks, sheep, horses, cattle, springbok and a 3-legged cat adding to the cast of characters.  We braaied under the milky way, with the African Horizons playlist providing the soundtrack, littered with tunes recommended by friends and followers from around the world.

The scenery today was remarkable again – I know – how many times can we say this???  But today we dropped down from the plateau and the earth turned red and opened up into a wide-open plain that went on until it hit a boundary of mountains on the horizon.  The landscape was dotted with oryx, springbok, vultures and eagles. 

Namibian vistas

Where are all the people in this place?  The total population of Namibia is only 2.1 million, it has a population density of just 2.5 / sq km.  We saw far fewer than that.  Miles and miles of road, and we’ve passed a maximum of 3 vehicles in a day.  You can spot them kilometres away as they kick up a dust plume.  When you do see them they irritate you, their approach means you have to get into the right lane - this might sound like an easy manoeuvre, but it is a terrifying experience as it often means riding over piles of stones, as round as ball bearings and as high as the Himalayas, with the bike wiggling and snaking through them.  In the middle of one of these lane crossings I had to practice a full emergency braking manoeuvre as an Oryx appeared out of nowhere on my right and crossed right in front of me.  Majestic creatures, their long horns . 

I wasn’t the only one with animal stories, Gary and Debbie got amazing footage of vultures struggling to take off ahead of them, Pete made an Oryx run into a fence, and my dad nearly killed a little bird.  My near-encounter with the Oryx was harmless in comparison.

Few days will compare with this.  It was such a good day that Pete had a Magnum ice-cream for breakfast.  Yeah – I know – we were in the middle of the desert – are you seeing a mirage you may be asking…  But I have 3 witnesses – Pete traded in a Nutella sandwich for a magnum ice cream, the stuff that epic road trips are made of.  How bad-ass are we?

Mr Magnum

We made it to Sessriem– the jump-off point to the Sossusvlei dune field.  While refuelling and watching Pete eat his second Magnum of the day we heard the distinctive sound of a big BMW GS approaching, the back was piled high with gear and as it turn to pull up to the pump a side-car appeared attached to it.  Of course they were Bavarians – who else would travel 3-up through Africa on a motorcycle and side-car carrying everything you need to establish a colony every night.  Pete felt an immediate affinity and rattled away with them in their native tongue, discussing stossdaempfer (shock absorbers) and wellblech (corrugations).  They started off in Nairobi 4 months ago, and when we said that our destination was Nairobi, they warned us against it – saying it was a complete dump.  Oh well – its home…

Big sky

Wow, what an amazing few days.  The ride through the Northern Cape, on dirt road all the way, winding through mountain passes which open out into the most incredible vistas.  Riding up a climb and coming through a corner with a large dome rock in front of you, dripping with water running like sweat down a balding head.  I suspected that this part of South Africa had some impressive scenery, but it exceeded my wildest imaginations. 

The last section of dirt road before the tarmac to Kammieskroon held a surprise for my dad, distracted by the GPS he took the corner too wide and hit the soft sand on the shoulder, swerved right, swerved left, went through 2 thorn trees, swerved right, almost recovered and then hit the dirt.  A bruised ankle, a broken indicator and brake lever, and a slightly dented ego, he was back in the saddle before we could wipe the dust off his trousers.  That night we gathered around a heater in freezing cold Port Nolloth, with a glass of whiskey, and recounted the events and scenery of the day, with the bush bounce taking pride of place.

The 160km dash to the South African / Namibian border at Sendelingsdrift passed quickly, the temperature rising steadily as we headed away from the coast.  We are all getting used to our bikes, and used to the twitches that they give us on dirt roads, once you’ve got your head around the fact that they dance a bit, and the best way to deal with this is to turn the throttle a bit more, then its all sorted – but it seems incredible counter-intuitive at the time, carrying such a heavy load on the back end. 

Sendelingsdrift was a relatively painless procedure, a small pontoon ferry carried our the 3 Tenors and the little blue squirrel across the Orange River and into Namibia and into the heat and the dust.  We stripped out the lining from our riding gear on the Namibian side of the Orange, and made sure our camelbacks were fully loaded. 

Sendelingsdrift ferry

The road on the Namibian side of the border was quite an experience, it winds along the northern bank of the Orange River and is the closest you will ever come to combining a rollercoaster with a dirt road motorcycle ride.  Tight switchbacks followed by steep climbs which launch your bike into the air at the top and then drop you down into a trough which leaves your stomach dropping through the saddle of your bike, followed by another switchback, and a panoramic view of goliath herons fishing in the river.  I could have spent a day just riding that stretch of road up and down. 

The rollercoaster road was followed by the road of ball bearings, round pebbles littered this road, like great big goony marbles.  It was a bit like riding a bike on an ice rink, talk about flying by the seat of your pants!!!! The back end coming past the front at every opportunity.  We eventually arrived in Ai Ais, a spa resort at the bottom of a box canyon at the southern tip of the Fish River Canyon.  We’ve derived a rating system for places on our trip, it’s a simple system consisting of a D and an E rating – with D for disappointing and E for excellent.  Ai Ais scored a definite ‘D’, the hot springs were luke warm at best, while the showers were cold. 

Gary and Debbie riding the twists

Today we had an early start – none of us realised that Namibia is an hour behind South Africa – its no wonder I got funny looks when I went to rinse the dust off my bike at 7am!!!! 

We left Ai Ais to make our way north to Hobas, to find accommodation as early as possible in the day so that we could offload our gear and go and play on the bikes along the edge of the Canyon.  The road was another wonder – I hung back to ride behind my dad and realised that we were going just about as fast as Go-For-It Gary and Psycho-Racing Pleitz.  The road climbed a rise, and wound around to the left and opened up over the Fish River Canyon – a breath taking sight!  Africa’s largest canyon, its as impressive as the Grand Canyon, layer upon layer of horizon, colours and depth that you can’t describe in words. 

We found an incredible lodge on the top of the world, with a view of the canyon, but a price tag that didn’t suite a 5 week bike trip, and so we headed on to the next stop, the Cañon Roadhouse.  What we found is a bit like Tarantino’s From Dusk till Dawn, a surreal desert roadhouse sporting rusted old cars with cactuses growing through them and inside a full on diner with immaculate old cars, the walls decorated with a million different things, and space out the back with a camp site for our tents – tonight we will sleep under the stars and hope the desert chill doesn’t get too far into our bones.

Cañon Roadhouse tractor

The ride along the Canyon was spectacular, without the luggage our bikes felt like race horses, and we roared down the approach road playing with GoPros, practicing drifting the bikes on the corners and generally behaving badly.  The Canyon lived up to every expectation I had, it is spectacular, and one day I would like to hike its length, a 5 day excursion.  We sat on the rim and soaked in the view in the evening light as the sun set on another brilliant day.

Vital statistics:

Days on the road: 4

Distance travelled so far:  1,458km

Fuel used by Placido:  67.6 litres

Borders crossed: 1

Bottles of wine and beer consumed:  A lot

Wipeouts:  1

You call that a big bike????

Go-For-It Gary

Tenere Sunsets

Scary twins 

Vistas

Lift-off

The day finally arrived, the paperwork was all done, and it was time to start moving and let the corrugations of Africa’s roads massage the aftereffects of the terminally inefficient bike export bureaucracy out of my system.  Sleep didn’t come easy last night, we packed all afternoon, the Three Tenors were all fully loaded when I climbed into bed, and at my dad’s house the little blue Beemer was also prepped for take-off.  We were eager to get an early start as rain was forecast from about 11am in Cape Town.  Getting up early wasn’t a problem. I had hardly slept, thinking through my packing, have I taken too much?  Have I forgotten something?  So when I saw that the alarm was about to ring I finally had an excuse to get up.

At 07:50 we opened the garage door, not a drop of rain in site!  We messed around for a few more minutes and were about to roll out the door when suddenly we had vertical rain from all sides.  Typical!  But a bit of rain wasn’t about to dampen our spirits, so we pressed on and picked up my dad in Simon’s Town before heading out on the road to finally start this delayed adventure.

Our route took us across the city and up the West Coast to Melkbosstrand where we cut inland and headed for Riebeeck Kasteel and our first leg stretch of the day.  We started easy, cruising along at about 80 or 90 kph and getting used to the feel of the bikes under load an in the rain.  As we moved inland and north it dried out nicely, but a heavy cross-wind had us all leaning our bikes over into the wind even though we were going straight.  We went through some amazing mountain passes, with incredible topography, the perfect roads for taking a sports-tourer out for a Sunday morning spin.  But we aren’t here for a tootle along pristine tarmac, and quickly sought out some of the brown stuff that Africa does so well. 

After a quick lunch and fuel stop in Citrusdal we hit our first dirt road for this trip.  The road connects Citrusdal to Clanwilliam and runs along the edge of the Cedarberg mountain range.  Gary had told us that he has a problem – when he sees dirt it switches a switch in his brain which makes his right hand twist the throttle open.  He wasn’t joking, the front wheel had barely touched the dirt and Gary was off, it’s unusual to see someone driving on tarmac at 90kph, but then to accelerate to 130+ when the rough stuff starts.  I watched Gary ride away into the distance with Debbie sitting relaxed and comfie behind him. 

The hero of the day, though, was my dad – John.  He turns 70 in 4 weeks today, he has never ridden a big loaded bike on a trip like this, and I was a little nervous to be honest.  Pete hung back with my dad for the first 20 minutes or so, and I rode somewhere in between Garry and Debbie on Pavarrrrrroti and my dad and Pete who I could see in my mirrors.  Eventually I swapped with Pete who I imagined was dying to see what his Ten could do – he eagerly took off standing on his foot pegs with his bike wagging its tail around the corner – come to think of it he looked a bit like his dogs... 

Riding behind my dad was a bit like riding behind my daughter when we first took her off road on her mountainbike.  I sat there nervously, reading the terrain and watching every potential obstacle, shouting into my helmet “go left, watch that ditch, don’t brake!!!!  Power now!”  But just like Maya when she bombed down the path through the coffee bushes, my dad took to his bike and the dirt as if he had been doing it all his life – a perfect match.  Pretty soon I wasn’t riding slower for him than I would have on my own, and we road about 200km of dirt road through mountain passes, through muddy sections, rocky sections, different colours of Africa’s dirt.  Riding like that is incredible, you have to be alert to the elements, you have to constantly read the road surface, predicting what traction you will have (or won’t have).  Riding on tarmac is really quite boring in comparison.

We decided to press on to Nieuwoudtville and spend the night there.  Our first stop was the fuel station on the edge of town, and looking through the dirty garage window while our bikes were being filled we noticed some bikes inside.  On closer inspection we found a collection of 300 vintage motorcycles!  Sunbeams, DKWs, big ones, small ones, incredible – and incredibly fitting for the end of our first day of riding.  We ate a brilliant meal next to an open fire, and re-told the day’s riding.  Everyone was totally impressed with my dad’s performance today, and also with Debbie and her nerves of steel who was able to sit on the back of Pavarrrrroti taking incredible photos of the journey, while Gary pilots the bike as if he were racing the Roof of Africa again.

Tonight I will sleep well, I can hear the rain hitting the corrugated roof, and I will dream of corrugated roads.  Tomorrow we will press on via Loeriesfontein, Leliefontein and Springbok, with Port Nolloth in our sites for our dinner tomorrow night.