My maat Steve flew in from the USA for three weeks of motorcycle adventuring, an African biking odyssey. One of the items on his agenda was riding in Cape Town. On Wednesday, we flew Safair from Kruger Mpumalanga International Airport to Cape Town. Julian, our Cape Town connecko and host, collected us from the airport and chauffeured us to his palatial home, Poespaskraal, in Tokai. In case you’re offended, I assure you that “poespas” is a perfectly legitimate Afrikaans word meaning “chaotic mess”. That evening, over dinner in a swanky restaurant, we celebrated our happy reunion and went to bed early because we had a busy day on Thursday.
After breakfast, Julian drove us to Fast KTM in Paarden Eiland. In the weeks leading up to the ride, I was in touch with Dave Griffin the dealer principal. Dave kindly agreed to let us ride two of the Fast KTM demo bikes for three days. Dave was out of town, and we were met by Luca, the ace Fast salesman. Luca gave us a KTM 790 and a Husqvarna 401, spunky urban combat vehicles, perfect for the rides we had planned.
I grabbed the 790, and Steve straddled the 401. We rode south on the M5 for a few clicks, then joined the bloody awful N2, destination Gordon’s Bay. Cape Town drivers all appear to suffer from an identical malaise which causes them to head like retarded lemmings for the fast lane and then sit there in their crappy Hyundais and Kias at 90 km/h refusing to budge. But that’s OK. We were on bikes and slalomed through the traffic. Short before, long, we arrived at the turn-off to Gordon’s Bay, rode to the beachfront and parked the bikes at Bikini Beach Books. The bookshop is easy to find because it has a Mercedes-Benz parked on the roof! Anton Grick has owned this amazing emporium for forty years. Over four decades, the shop has expanded like a rabbit warren to fill adjoining buildings. The shop is a treasure trove for bibliophiles. Every horizontal surface is piled high with teetering stacks of books, and lurking in those stacks are rare gems. Make a point of book browsing next time you’re in the area.
On the way out of town, it was impossible not to stop at the Gordon’s Bay Naval Base for a photo of the slogans on the wall.
- SA NAVY BUSINESS FIGHTING AT SEA
- SA NAVY MISSION TO WIN AT SEA
- SA NAVY VISION TO BE UNCHALLENGED AT SEA
Sheesh! Delusional much!
The R44 from Gordon’s Bay to Botrivier is a legendary biking road flanked by the wild Atlantic Ocean and the formidable Kogelberg fastnesses which tower above the road. Vast kelp beds flourish in the ocean shallows, and the air is thick with the pungent reek of maritime fecundity. The road follows a contour line along the coast, and corner after corner beckons faster, faster. As our confidence in the bikes grew, we spanked that perfect road, revelling in the scenery and the precision of the bikes. The southern Cape coast has always been a magnet for people who love the ocean and the mountains. Decades ago, Rooi-Els, Hangklip, Pringle Bay, Betty’s Bay and Kleinmond were isolated hamlets. Over time, the settlements have expanded and due to recent semigration, the towns sprawl across the increasingly crowded littoral and up the mountainsides, where architectural masterpieces, supported by concrete stilts, cling to the rocky slopes. I fear that the quaint charm of these towns is a thing of the past. The roadsides are littered with estate agents’ signs, and brash shopping centres have changed the character of the communities forever.
Our time in Cape Town was limited, so our rides were all on tar. The KTM 790 Adventure has the rugged, muscular characteristics of a serious adventure machine and yet on tar it was refined and effortless with performance and handling that encouraged sporty riding. The parallel twin 799 cc DOHC 8-valve engine delivers 70 kW and 87 Nm. With the 20-litre tank full of fuel, the 790 weighs just 220 kg, which feels even lighter because of the low-slung fuel tank. The 790 was an ideal bike for the rides we planned. On the open road, the 790 was all day comfortable thanks to the upright riding position, wide handlebars and decent weather protection. In the urban jungle, we had to deal with the idiotic Cape Town drivers. The 790 was king of the jungle, an aggressive “vat nie kak nie” vehicle that relegated the traffic to diminishing specks in the mirrors.
We crossed the N2 and rode to the Botrivier Hotel for a lunchtime rendezvous with a bunch of biking cronies. The Hotel was built in 1890, and until a few years ago, it was seedy and dilapidated. Recent renovations have restored the old girl to her first blush, and now she’s a museum as well as a warm hostelry. Browse the fascinating website – www.bothot.co.za
Steve and I were the last to arrive. There were already eight scaly old biker buggers sitting at a long table on the cool, shady stoep. The average age at the table was 70 years, and over lunch, the stories just kept on coming. It was a most convivial afternoon, one of those spontaneous gatherings unique to the brotherhood of biking. That was my first time at the welcoming Botrivier Hotel, and I look forward to eating there again on my next visit to Slaapstad.
After lunch, Steve and I swapped bikes. All morning, he had been eyeing the 790, and I was keen to ride the 401. On the way back, Julian, who had ridden the N2 to Botrivier on his R 1250 GS, led the way. We returned along the same coastal road we rode that morning and stopped at the Drummond Arms in Rooi-Els for a “loopdop”. We saw many troops of chacma baboons along the R44, and judging by the number of warning signs, Rooi-Els is a baboon hotspot. From Gordon’s Bay, we rode the N2 for a short distance and then turned onto Baden Powell Drive. This was my first time riding this road, the R310, which parallels the northern shore of False Bay and skirts the fringes of Khayelitsha and Mitchell’s Plain. The road was covered in shifting sands driven inland by winds off the Atlantic. Julian told us that the municipality has to clear the road regularly to prevent it from turning into a dune. We rode past the popular fishing beaches at Strandfontein and Muizenberg, turned north on the M5 and cruised through the suburbs to Poespaskraal. Steve spent the evening raving about the roads, the scenery, new friends and the bikes. He said he fell asleep dreaming of that glorious day and the adventures still to come.
If you spend a bit of time in Cape Town, someone will inevitably tell you, “You know the weather in Cape Town is very changeable, and it’s not uncommon to experience four seasons in one day and blah blah blah.” You’re lucky if you can escape before they suck your will to live. The weather is the primary topic of conversation, and it’s boring as hell. Unfortunately, we experienced the four seasons curse on Friday. We planned to ride into the hinterland to the Bike Forge in Tulbagh, owned by my maat Freddie van Eyk, and to traverse two of the Cape’s fabled mountain passes, Du Toitskloof and Bainskloof. But, in the immortal words of Rabbie Burns: “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley.” A fine drizzle sifted over the lawns at Poespaskraal, and we were in two minds whether to ride or not. Julian said this was like springtime, so it couldn’t be too bad… or could it? It wasn’t enough to deter us three stout-hearted bliksems. We put on our rain gear and rode northeast on the N1. The further we rode, the more intense the rain became, and by the time we reached the turnoff to Paarl, we were riding in a maelstrom of mist and sluicing rain. We stopped for a powwow. Julian said this was like winter. We were cold and wet and miserable. It was bloody dangerous on the rain-slick roads infested with long haul trucks on the way to Joburg. The Du Toitskloof mountains were shrouded in thick rain clouds. None of us is a fair-weather biker, but sometimes enough is enough. On the naked 401, I was taking the most strain, and ultimately it was my decision to abandon the ride and return to Cape Town.
Julian took the lead as we slogged back along the N1. Table Mountain was a welcome beacon on the western horizon, and with each passing kilometre, the rain lessened. By the time we rode south on the M3, the rain was a grim memory. We rode under overcast skies and parked the bikes at The Reef in Kalk Bay. Julian said, “These cool cloudy conditions are typical autumn weather.” The Reef was a buzzing bistro. Kathy, the owner of the restaurant, came to sit with us and suggested calamari for lunch. The calamari was delicious and especially so when washed down with golden, throat-charming Stella Artois draughts. The restaurant was separated from the ocean by the peninsula commuter railway line. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the trains that passed regularly were spotless and obviously well maintained. After lunch, we rode to the harbour and took photos of the bikes against the picturesque background of the fishing boats rocking gently at their moorings. Julian led us up Boyes Drive to the Shark Spotters Observation Deck above Muizenberg Beach. From the deck, the shark spotter has a panoramic view of the coastline and can warn bathers if sharks approach the beaches. False Bay is home to 27 different species of shark, ray and chimaera. I would rather ride bikes than enter the domain of apex predators. By now, the clouds were clearing. On the ride back to Tokai, we rode in blazing sunshine, and when we parked the bikes, Julian said: “Now it’s summer.” Having experienced four seasons in one day, I felt like a true Capetonian, but frankly, I prefer Nelspruit, where the weather is completely predictable and nice and warm for my old bones.
My day on the Husqvarna 401 Svartpilen, the Black Arrow, was a revelation. That’s a groovy name for a groovy little motorcycle. Throw a leg over the little Husky, and the first thing you notice is how light it is. Around town, it darts effortlessly through traffic. The upright riding position, wide bars and compact dimensions keep you way ahead of the rats trapped in their cages. It’s the kind of bike that entices you to take the long way home because it’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys. I was a little sceptical about riding a few hundred kilometres on the 401, but the single-cylinder liquid-cooled mill punches way above its weight. It was easy for me to keep up with Steve and Julian, and from time to time I passed them at 160 km/h with the engine spinning easily at 10,000 rpm. Obviously, the only inhibitor is that the bike is butt nekkid. In windy conditions on the N1, I took a bit of a battering, but in windless conditions, tucked in over the tank, it was a pleasure to be exposed to the elements. And then there is the styling. The Svartpilen looks unlike almost anything else on the road. Minimalist, modern and rebellious, it has an attitude that makes people wander over to ask “What is that?” The 401 reminds you that motorcycles do not need massive horsepower to be exciting. Sometimes a light, stylish, eager little machine is all you need to rediscover why riding is so much fun. But wait! There’s more! The 401 sells for the trivial sum of R79,995. It’s the perfect entry-level bike for boyz and girlz.
We had to return the bikes to Fast KTM before noon on Saturday. It was a glorious cloudless day in the mother city as we headed to the Waterfront for photos. There were crowds of people, congested traffic and chaotic construction sites everywhere we went. We scythed through the mayhem with smiles on our faces and parked on the harbour wall for the money shot. Tugs in the foreground and the Table Mountain massif as a spectacular backdrop. It was a fitting finale to a memorable sojourn. We returned the bikes to the friendly folk at KTM. Thank you very much for lending us the 790 and the 401. We had too much of fun.
Julian fetched us in his car, and on the way home, the conversation was all about the places we visited and the sights we saw. And then Julian began listing places we had missed: vineyards, beaches, harbours, monuments, mountain passes, restaurants, villages, museums, country roads, viewpoints… We only scratched the surface. Steve and I agreed we need to return to the Cape. And we will. Later this year, Julian is going to lead us on a ride called “The 27 Passes”. This time we’re going to get beneath the surface and immerse ourselves in much more of what the Cape has to offer.
