Amsterdam is known for many things: canals, tulips, bicycles, stroopwafels, and cafes that sell more than just coffee. And even though The Netherlands’ topography is pretty unexciting, it has a pretty rad motorcycling scene too.

It’s a small scene, but it’s chock full of wonderful misfits and moto-zealots that know how to party. So it was the perfect city for BMW Motorrad to stage this year’s edition of Pure&Crafted.

Pure&Crafted is a one-day event that throws motorcycles and music into one big melting pot. The focus is on ‘new heritage’—so you’ll find custom motorcycles, indie and alternative music, small batch apparel and goods, and craft food and drink. So even though it’s sponsored by one of the world’s biggest motorcycle manufacturers, it’s eclectic enough to pull a bigger crowd than just bikers.

BMW held the first three editions of Pure&Crafted in Berlin, then took the show on the road before moving it to the Dutch capital. With an invite from BMW Motorrad to hang out and attend the festival, I landed at Schiphol and did something I hardly ever do: headed for the exit instead of just dashing to catch a connecting flight.

BMW picked an epic venue for this year’s show. They held it at the Taets Art and Event Park—a compound of sorts that used to be a munitions plant, and is now a heritage site. Located about 15 minutes out of the city centre on the banks of the Amsterdam North Sea Canal, the site has an industrial, well-worn vibe.

The event festivities were spread throughout the venue, with the vibe changing from building to building. There were two dedicated music stages, a ‘Wheels’ area that was packed with custom motorcycles, and a couple of indoor market spaces. Spread in between the main buildings was a food and drink alley, lined with bars and food trucks.

As the main sponsor for the show, BMW Motorrad took the opportunity to debut their upcoming range of heritage-focused riding gear and apparel. So they set up a lounge to showcase the gear, and a handful of stunning custom and vintage BMWs

The gear itself is low-key and classy, and a far cry from the technical apparel the brand is known for. The range’s flagship riding jacket caught my eye—a horse leather number with classic styling, a lush bronze-coloured lining and heavy-duty construction.

The surrounding bike decor included the ‘R5 Hommage’ concept, from Sweden’s Unique Custom Cycles, and a jaw-dropping custom based on the upcoming R18, from Japan’s Custom Works Zon.

There were more BMW-based customs in the ‘Wheels’ building too, setup in their own little glass window-lined foyer. These included a couple of wild race bikes, all of which compete in the zany Sultans of Sprint 1/8th mile sprint race series in Europe.

One was VTR Customs’ ‘Spitfire’—a BMW R 1200 R wrapped in a fuselage-looking structure, that actually shoots flames.

Another was ‘Achilles’—a crazy R 1250 RS built by Kraftstoffschmiede and Man and the Machines. I also saw the ‘Type 18’ R nineT from Auto Fabrica, and a totally over the top C Evolution scooter from Krautmotors.

About halfway through the day, Spitfire pilot Amelie ‘Amy’ Mooseder and Rolf Reick from Krautomotors treated us to an open air flame and burnout show. Nothing revs a crowd up as much as two whacky custom motorcycles taking turns to spit fire and smoke rubber. (And nothing wrecks a T-shirt quicker than standing too close to a rear wheel mid-burnout.)

It wasn’t all BMWs though. Inside the main floor of the ‘Wheels’ area, Dutch builders Ironwood Custom Motorcycles, Pancake Customs and Cool Kid Customs all had bikes on show. I also saw a Royal Enfield from Rough Crafts in Taiwan, a pair of Hondas from Motoism in Germany.

Krautmotors had a few more bikes on display inside too, and I saw work from Deathwish Company and ROOK too.

The indoor markets were packed full of small independent apparel brands, gear retailers and craftsmen. There was everything from barbers slinging razors, to the Movember crew slinging gin and tonics.

Tattoo Lenny was dishing out art on the day, and one of my favourite moto shops on the planet—Rusty Gold Motorshop—had their wares on offer too.

Outside, my travel companions and I kept ourselves well fueled with Mexican pulled beef burgers, freshly baked pizza, out-of-this-world Dutch fries, craft beer and hearty bourbon.

And then there was the music—a mixed bag of local and international indie, rock and alternative acts. English punk rockers Bad Nerves lit up the 2nd stage in the afternoon, with London’s own Swedish Death Candy tearing the main stage’s roof off in the evening. Dutch acts Indian Askin and Blaudzun also delivered standout performances.

Pure&Crafted also gave me the opportunity to tick something off my bucket list: witnessing an honest to goodness wall of death show. Seeing, smelling and hearing the famed Ken Fox Troupe roar around a giant wooden cylinder on vintage bikes (and one go kart) will go down as one of my top moto-memories.

Pure&Crafted’s recipe of tunes, wheels and revelries isn’t entirely unique—but its alternative vibe sets it apart from most motorcycle festivals.

Add in a healthy dose of rad people that know how to get down, and there’s plenty of motivation to go back next year.

In many ways, the Africa Twin story is one filled with success, drama and irrational decision making, to say the least. Allow me to explain;

The year is 1990 as Honda launches the delectable XRV750 Africa Twin, in celebration of their “Paris-Dakar Rally” success between 1986 and 1989. This package was presented in a 742 cc, 6-valve, liquid-cooled V-twin configuration and was an instant sales success. The evolution of this model is well documented and will not be the focus of this story. 

For some weird reason, Honda discontinued production in 2003, amidst the unprecedented rise of the BMW GS. The Africa Twin went “missing-in-action” for the best part of thirteen years, leaving a lot of disgruntled fans in its wake. 

This all changed in 2016, with the launch of the new Africa Twin, now designated the CRF1000L. To say this was the most anticipated Honda model in recent history is an understatement. This latest incarnation had grown in capacity to 998cc and is a parallel twin, rather than a V-twin, as has become Honda custom over the last few decades. These were exciting times and gave the power of choice back to Honda fans. 

A significant bit of technical information is that the new parallel-twin mill sports a 270-degree firing order. In layman’s terms, this is known as the “big-bang” firing order. The same configuration is to be found in BMW’s F850GS/A, Yamaha’s XT1200Z and the highly anticipated Yamaha T7. You cannot write and comment about the Africa Twin without talking about this glorious engine. We will elaborate on this briefly, as the story unfolds.

Adventure Sports Option

In 2018, a further evolution of the species called the “Adventure Sports” saw the light of day. This model has a larger fuel tank, higher windshield, crash bars, bash plate and longer travel suspension among other features. The seat was also altered for more sporty riding, increasing the ride height to 900mm in the standard position, or 920mm in the high position.

The new paint scheme on the Adventure Sports makes it one of the most photogenic adventure bikes out there. It certainly is soft on the eye and the camera lens. 

Gliding into the sunrise

So the time came for another magical travel adventure. On this occasion, we were aboard a pair of these fine Honda Africa Twins. Just to spice it up a little, Riaan Fourie, Head of Motorcycles at Honda SA, organised us an Africa Twin DCT model and an Adventure Sports manual.

Simon and I made our way down the N4 highway, heading East from Pretoria towards Belfast. This gave us the perfect opportunity to get a feel for the Twins cruising capability. It must be mentioned, that both these bikes are truly comfortable at highway speeds. Both have the ability to put the rider in a relaxed, comfortable state of mind as you see the miles roll by on the smooth tarmac. To me, this is a very important quality! Adventure touring is all about beating the rush of modern-day living, experiencing the unknown on a machine you can trust and rely on. The Africa Twin certainly awakes this mindset.

Just outside Belfast, we transitioned onto gravel for the first time. I had many gravel loops planned as an option, with escape routes back to the main roads, should the need arise. Both Simon and I have a keen eye for photography and this caused regular stops and leisurely traversing, just the way it should be. 

As my good friend Stefan Boshoff always says; “a plan is merely a basis for change”. This is very true about adventure biking and we soon had to amend our plan by cutting out a few loops of gravel. This is a usual occurrence on my trips as there is always another option, another road less travelled and moments to be captured. 

It was a trip of firsts, in so many ways. Simon Morton, our editor in chief is a self-proclaimed adventure bike rookie. He is more of a “naked bike”, “modern classic” fan, lured into crossing over to the dusty side of biking, by a few close friends. His input during the trip was very valuable and I will relay, as best I could, with what he had to say every time we stopped for a water break or photo opportunity. 

He has had a very busy time in the office and was keen to burn some daylight hours on the bike, far away from modern-day distractions. I smiled every time we stopped, as I listened to how much he was enjoying himself. When he didn’t elaborate about adventure biking, he was busy telling me how much he enjoyed the Africa Twin DCT. 

But what is DCT?

A quick note to those readers who are not familiar with the term DCT, it simply means “Dual Clutch Transmission”. This is Honda’s version of an automatic gearbox. I can remember Simon’s scepticism before he had his first go on this arrangement. Here, was a motorcycle with a parking brake instead of a clutch lever and the complete absence of a gear lever. On the right-hand side is a switch that selects neutral, drive and sport mode. Sport mode has three different aggression settings which caters for just about anybody. 

There is also an auto and manual selector on the same side as the switchgear. When selecting manual mode, you can shift up and down via paddle shift on the left thumb and forefinger. The DCT arrangement adds about 10kg of weight to the motorcycle and a price hike of around R12 000. Needless to say, most owners to be, opt for the DCT version.  

It was the first time I had straddled an Africa Twin for more than just a spin around the block. I had been invited to ride them on so many occasions, but for some reason, life just got in the way. This is a good thing, for I was to evaluate these two specimens from a brand new, fresh perspective. 

Summit Lodge

It was also the first time we were to stay at Summit Lodge, in the biking haven of Graskop, Mpumalanga. This fine, biker friendly establishment has catered for the biking fraternity for many years now.

The spacious rondavels allow for more than needed on any biking adventure, complete with en-suite bathroom, shower, TV and coffee station. They also offer good food and a jovial bar for freshening up and making new acquaintances. The bar area also has a central fireplace that caters for the unpredictable weather in this area. 

We met up with managers Wentzel and Alicia for some good conversation and many laughs. This stop-over is certainly recommended for any weary traveller who needs a time of rest and rejuvenation. Rates at the time of writing are around R500 per person, per night including breakfast, but please confirm on the link below, as I am sure rates change from season to season.

For more information visit: www.summitlodge.co.za

Glorious Mpumalanga

If you have not been to Mpumalanga proper, then you are simply missing out! The province offers a highly distinguished list of landscapes and activities. Embark on a three-hour journey from Gauteng and you are rewarded with a parallel universe of mountains, lakes, woods and farmlands. Mpumalanga is also the doorway into the wild, untamed Limpopo Province for those who want to wander further. It offers world-class “travel-and-play” opportunity for all disciplines of motorcycle riding. Also, a very popular Superbike destination, with endless twisty mountain passes in every direction.

Adventure and dirt bike enthusiasts can play in a network of trails so diverse that it will take most of a lifetime of exploration. And then you speak to the locals, only to find out that even more closely guarded secrets beckon. It is a fascinating place, to say the least!

On day two, after a hearty breakfast offered by the Lodge, we had an open canvass. We eventually decided to make our way to Sabie and from there find our way into the woods. We were hoping to reach Misty Mountain via a diverse network of dirt tracks, which proved to be virtually impossible without local knowledge. I was also concerned about Simon’s fitness and off-road skills but was soon to realize that there was little to worry about. We never made it to our intended destination, but that was okay. We had a great time in the woods, traversing track after track of thick, lush green bush and crystal clear mountain streams. Simon just got stronger and more enthusiastic, the further we travelled.

It was at this point that I received the most valuable input from him. According to Simon, the Africa Twin was an effortless motorcycle to ride, offering soft, flexible, smooth power off idle with a useful punch of midrange torque where and when needed. This must be one of the Africa Twin’s greatest strengths, as I can concur his thoughts. 

The motor makes no more peak power and torque than its peers, yet the way in which it is delivered makes a very compelling argument. The exhaust note is like an ear massage and I could listen for hours as the heavily wooded area translated this beautiful, mellow sound right back to your senses. Music to the soul. 

During and after our trip, we could not help but post a lot on social media, as we had some stunning photos and worthwhile comments. What surprised me was the amount of interest shown by so many owners and interested parties. We were bombarded with comments and quotes. This made me realize how much of an impression the Africa Twin has left on local shores. It seems to find its way into many hearts in a quiet, understated way.

That evening we had so much to talk about, sharing a beverage around the fireplace, while enjoying local company and conversation. We had found what we were looking for.

The next morning after breakfast, we said our final goodbyes and decided on the long way round, back to Gauteng. We travelled from Graskop to the forgotten village of Pilgrims Rest and from there we went down Robbers Pass to the T-Junction, turning left to Lydenburg. From Lydenburg we travelled on the all too familiar roads back to Dullstroom and Belfast. Exiting Belfast, we joined the N4 Highway, to finish off where we started.   

Over the last few years, I have come to enjoy the last boring bits of the road back to Gauteng, or the “Big Smoke” as I so often call it. This gives me time to reflect, to gather my thoughts and to just simply express gratitude for the marvellous world we live in. I never get enough from the cockpit of a motorcycle, watching the rolling, living landscapes that resemble a thousand possibilities, a thousand reasons to be grateful. And as far as the Africa Twin is concerned, you may ask about my concluding thoughts?

Final interpretations

Over the last few days, I experienced two motorcycles that blew me away on so many levels. I was almost “blind-sided”, so to speak. I jumped onto the Africa Twin with no predetermined thoughts, no hopes and certainly only mild expectations, leaving myself wide open to being blown away by what I experienced. What I found is a gem of an engine, plush and calm suspension on the Adventure Sports and a very useful DCT gearbox on the few occasions I was fortunate enough to pry it from Simon’s hands. 

On one occasion, Simon and I went to a secluded, crystal clear waterfall for a refreshing swim. Afterwards, while kitting up, I remember just standing and staring at the Adventure Sports for some time, amidst the tranquil sound of falling water in the background.

I have many moments like this in my life, many moments that formulate my thoughts. Those who know me well, know that when I climb off a bike, step back a short distance and stare without saying a word is usually a sign of affirmation and approval. I found myself doing this on more than one occasion during this trip to wonderland. 

Travel on, my fellow explorers and may you find yourself somewhere deep in the bush, just staring at your chosen steed, with a smile and a nod of contentment…

For 2020 Honda is releasing a brand new updated Africa Twin and Adventure Sport to their model line up, which you can read about HERE.

There are times when the craziness of everyday life becomes overbearing and, if you are wise, you will take a bit of time out. So it was with the team at ZA Bikers. Braam got to choose the destination this time around. We also decided that there would be another difference. We would do this adventure on small bikes. Simon pulled rank and organised a Kawasaki Versys 300 from our friends at Fire It Up! Braam chose a Zontes 310 Adventure, Bjorn a Honda CRF 250 Rally, and I arranged a Suzuki V-Strom 250. On paper, the Kawasaki outpowers the rest quite significantly, with probably the Zontes up next. The Honda and the wee Strom would bring up the rear.

We decided to take the roads less travelled and make our way to a tiny hamlet called Val, which is located between Greylingstad and Standerton in southeastern Mpumalanga. We actually rode out of Pretoria towards Olifantsfontein, where we turned east and went straight onto dirt roads. Farmland flanks the road on either side and farmers are preparing their land for planting. The pungent pong of poo assailed our nostrils as we swept past freshly fertilised fields. Turning this way and that, we followed the minor dirt roads that took us slowly but surely east. Suzuki had done a sprocket change on the little Strom, going a tooth bigger at the front. This has made a huge difference to the bike’s cruising comfort. It no longer feels frenzied at 120, but rather happy as the day is long. We turned left onto a flat stretch of tar taking us to the Delmas road. It immediately became an impromptu test as to which was the quickest and fastest of the bunch. Please understand that this was never intended to be, and isn’t a comparison test, but boys will be boys, you know!

I pulled away alongside Braam on the Zontes and actually got a wheel ahead of the Zontes. He pulled alongside and then started to pull away slowly. Simon, seeing what we were up to, gave the Kawi its head and simply blasted past both of us. Braam jumped into his slipstream but the Versys was able to pull away into the distance. In the meantime, Bjorn snuck out of my slipstream and edged away, leaving me as tail-end Charlie. It was maybe five kays to the t-junction where we all came together once more. The Kawasaki registered around 155 on its speedo whilst the Zontes, trailing in its wake was showing an optimistic 160. Bjorn and I saw 145, with the little RPM light on the little Suzie winking wildly as the needle nudged redline in top gear. All things considered, there is surprisingly very little between the bikes, performance-wise. With that settled, we went back to our leisurely cruising pace of around 100 on the tar and 20 to 30 kay’s slower on the dirt.

In terms of the dirt ability, clearly, the Dakar replica CRF, with its long-travel suspension and 21” front wheel has a clear advantage. Having said that, the suspension is crazy soft and half the travel is lost to sag when you sit on it. The Kawasaki is firm and taught and really dirt worthy, feeling better and better the faster you go. The Zontes was a pleasant surprise with a smooth motor and reasonable suspension, offering fair stability despite it’s 18” front wheel. The little Strom is a solid little performer which, like the Zontes also sports an 18” front. Bottom line is that all the bikes are capable of safe dirt road touring. We were once again reminded that big heavy bikes are a lot of effort and way more intimidating than these little beasts when the roads get dusty.

Val is 190 kays from Pretoria if you stick to the most direct tar route. We did around 250 klicks and took hours to get there. We stopped for a picnic lunch and brewed some coffee in an abandoned shed which gave us some shelter from a stiff cold breeze that heralded an incoming cold front.

Back on the bikes, we rode dirt tracks where the traffic dried up to almost nothing and swept and undulated through pristine farmland, golden frost burnt veld and almost bushveld like scenery. We stopped frequently to take photos, chew the fat and chirp each other about our respective rides. It was thus late afternoon before we rolled into the hamlet of Val. Oh, my sainted aunt! There is much to be said for living the quiet life!

The hamlet of Val, abbreviate at some stage in its history from “Waterval”, has a permanent population of 29 residents. Over and above this is a transient population of around 30 SA Police members who serve the whole district. More than 1 police member for each citizen! Needless to say, you feel safe in Val!

The main drag runs adjacent to the railway line which is still in use and probably sees more traffic than the main road through the little town. As is typical of towns dissected by railway lines, you want to live “on the right side of the tracks”. I didn’t quite figure out which was the “right” side, but I think it was where the Val Hotel is located.

The hotel dates back to 1896 when the original mud-walled structure was completed. It was originally built as an Inn to serve the stagecoach route from the Reef to the Lowveld goldfields. Allow your mind to wander for a moment and just think what an exciting time this was in our country’s history. The relative peace of Val was rudely interrupted by the Anglo-Boer War starting in 1899. No major battles were fought near Val, but there were numerous skirmishes, as Lord Roberts sent troops east from the then occupied Pretoria, to link up with Kitcheners’ army coming up from Natal. The last pitched battle of the war was fought near Belfast, before the guerrilla warfare phase of the war.

The best-documented skirmish near Val was thanks to the Van Den Heever brothers, Gert and Jack. These chaps thought they could disrupt the English war effort by derailing a troop train. Which they managed on the 29th of December 1900. I took a ride to the monument, 5 kay’s from Val where this deed was done. This is where the story takes an interesting turn. To the absolute glee of the Boers, the derailed train was not carrying troops, but rather whisky, beer, champagne and good nosh, destined for the New Years celebration for the English troops to welcome in the end of 1900. An immediate truce was called and the soldiers from both sides commenced a monumental “piss up”. The party raged for two days before the Boers withdrew to resume hostilities, albeit with a further 5 wagons worth of pilfered “spoils of war”. No wonder they called it the “ Gentlemen’s war”!

Another fascinating story is that of Horace Fry. Well, that’s what he called himself when he arrived in Val. He apparently had no beef with the Boers, so he deserted from his unit in Cape Town after disembarking from the troopship that had brought him from England. He packed his meagre belongings into a wheelbarrow and, get this, walked to Johannesburg! Flip a noodle! They definitely don’t make them like they used to. He eventually pitched up in Val, where he established himself as the village blacksmith.

Val once again made the news when Mahatma Gandhi was arrested and held in the local jail, whilst on his “peace march” from Durban to Johannesburg. A local farmer commented that “the Indian in a diaper was a nuisance” and caused a lot of trouble for the authorities. The grandmother of the local General Dealer, Latib Janoor, cooked up some vegetarian Indian cuisine for Mr Ghandi while he was in the klink.

The Train Station closed in the 1970s which resulted in the Hotel becoming run down and derelict. The hotel was bought on auction on the 6th of July 1994 by the present owners, Andre’ and Rita Britz. Rita’s family have lived in the area for 8 generations. She and Andre’ were married in the local church in 1982. They restored the hotel to its former glory and more. It now sports 12 rooms, 2 cottages and a backpackers.

Staying there is to be reminded of a time that the world has all but forgotten. Rooms are period-perfect, complete with snuggly down duvets, crisp white linen and the like. Cosy and comfy.

The pub is well stocked and quaint, with a roaring fireplace warding off the winter chill.

The food is typical country Inn fare. Well prepared, tasty and wholesome. We had a great evening chilling over a few brews and a good meal, before retiring to our cosy beds for a good night’s sleep.

The next day we rose early for Bjorn to take advantage of the crisp early morning light to capture some images. The bikes had frozen frost on the seats, with our phones telling us that we were experiencing 2-degree temperatures.

It had warmed slightly by the time we had downed a hearty breakfast, packed the bikes, and ridden out of town. I chose to ride out to the Boer war monument documenting the aforementioned “piss up”, which meant cruising down a good dirt road, through beautiful rolling veld and farmlands.

I then rode back to Pretoria on the tar. The rest of the crew took the back roads once again and as Murphy would dictate, suffered a couple of punctures on the tube equipped bikes. The tubeless Zontes, which would have made repairs a doddle, escaped unscathed.

Despite the puncture setbacks we returned to the Big Smoke refreshed, and with batteries recharged. If you are thinking of getting, or already own one of these, or a similar bike, do yourself a favour. Pack up and hit the road as we did. Take your time and chill out. I can highly recommend Val as a destination. It may not be the most inspiring countryside that you ride through to get there, but you will quickly fall under its spell. That sums up the incredible thing about bikes.

A simple cruise in the country turns into an adventure. Try it, I promise that you’ll become as addicted as we are.

We recently received a letter from Dave Walker from “The Walkerbouts Country Inn & Pub” in Rhodes, Eastern Cape. With summer now fast approaching, thoughts of planning that next adventure are circling around in my brain. So, when I read Dave’s letter I started to reminisce about a previous trip that I did in the Eastern Cape.

A few years ago my buddy Cobus and I rode Baviaans, then took the road less travelled back to Pretoria. We wound our way to Queenstown, overnighted there with friends, then travelled east through Lady Frere, Cala and on to Elliot, Ugie and then Maclear. This is a spectacular part of the country with stunning open plains and mountain vistas. Hooking a left we hit the dirt onto the R396 which took us up into the mountains and down Naude’s Nek Pass.

The road, generally in reasonable condition, twists and turns up and down steep switchbacks with magnificent views, crosses streams and then spills you out into the charming town of Rhodes. You have to overnight in Rhodes. The more you stroll the streets the more you seem to shrug off everyday worries and woes. As far as where to stay, there are various options, but one worth exploring is Walkerbouts Inn.

See below the letter we received from Dave Walker (Owner at Walkerbouts Inn).

The Walkerbouts Country Inn and Pub

“Walkerbouts Inn is located in the historic village of Rhodes which is situated at the southernmost end of the Drakensberg mountain range in the Barkly East district. It is 16km due south of the border with the mountain Kingdom of Lesotho. The village is more than 1800m above sea level and is located on the banks of the Bell River, a tributary of the Kraai River that flows into the Orange River at Aliwal North.

The nearest town is Barkly East which is 60km away on the R396, a sometimes narrow but generally winding gravel road that must be ridden or driven with care.

Rhodes is a remote village almost frozen in time and a veritable relic from the past. The unique nature of the architecture in the village finds its origins in the Victorian era and is a compromise between prevailing fashion, the availability of materials and practicality. For example, the length of the sheets of corrugated iron was determined by the load body of the ox-wagons used to trundle them up into the mountains! Or maybe the wagons were built to accommodate the standard lengths of the time?

In order to preserve the streetscape for generations to come, village visionaries set about seeking protection for the uniqueness of Rhodes. The end result of their endeavours was the proclamation of the village as a National Monument on July 1997. New building plans are therefore carefully vetted to ensure that the streetscape is not disturbed by, for example, a log cabin that would be totally out of keeping with the “old-time” appearance of Rhodes.

Walkerbouts Inn is a spacious country retreat with comfortable accommodation in 6 bedrooms, each with en-suite facilities. Three of the rooms have a double and a single bed and three have a double and two single beds, ideal for young families. All of our rooms have tea and coffee-making facilities. The relaxed and hospitable atmosphere makes it a veritable home-from-home where you can kick off your shoes (in summer!) and feel free to be yourself!

Overnight stays provide limited respite from the journey but for those with more time, spending more than one night allows riders the opportunity of exploring the less well-known valleys and passes that all have a charm of their own with a variety of scenery and road conditions.

Our cosy “Thankshjalot Pub” is steeped in history. If only the walls could be persuaded to talk, what tales they could tell but fortunately for some, they remain mum! DSTV in the lounge and pub allows folk to view sporting events of interest, either “sitting soft” in the lounge or “sitting hard” on bar stools in the pub.

In our restaurant, we offer fine country cuisine and hospitality in the best traditions of the “Platteland”. We source as many of our kitchen supplies from our own garden or locally where fresh herbs and vegetables are grown, weather permitting. To add to the fresh garden produce in season, we also use locally produced, succulent chicken, lamb and beef for our table. Our speciality is the finest pizzas for hundreds of kilometres, complete with hand-made bases and home-made pizza sauce

Attractions to the area include fly fishing for wild trout and smallmouth yellowfish, mountain biking, birding, walks, rock-art by prior arrangement, 4×4 routes, Alpine flowers in summer and snow skiing in winter at the nearby Tiffindell Ski Resort. Arguably the most underrated activity in the village is “chilling”. Most venues have the ideal facility, a sun-drenched veranda where “Stoepsitting” is a refined art to the extent that there is an annual Stoepsitting Festival where visitors can meet locals and vice versa.

From a biking point of view, Rhodes is central to many mountain passes including the internationally renowned Naudesnek Pass, one of the highest in Southern Africa. The Bastervoetpad Pass is a very technical route. “Very technical” being hardly ever maintained and very rough and eroded in places. Even getting to and from the various passes includes winding gravel roads in varying degrees of repair but all of which are surrounded by fantastic mountain scenery and verdant valleys.

Walkerbouts offers limited undercover bike parking by prior arrangement as well as a bike cleaning area for those who feel so inclined after a long day in the saddle!

We hope to see you soon…

Kind Regards Dave”.

Dave Walker

Walkerbouts Inn – Rhodes
Tel: 045 974 9290
[email protected]
www.walkerbouts.co.za

Planning a moto adventure in the middle of winter to one of Southern Africa’s most iconic mountain passes doesn’t always come recommended. The weather and road conditions on Sani Pass can rapidly turn and you can become instantly humbled with the circumstances you find yourself in. We’ve had it both ways before, but this year – we lucked out all round!

From our experience with years past, we prepared everyone for the worst. At the top of the packing list was long underwear followed by extra layers to keep you warm. Those items luckily weren’t needed until the evening at the backpackers at Sani Mountain Lodge.

This was the third year that Bonafide Moto Co. led a group of riders from Johannesburg down through the Midlands and up to the top of Sani Pass. Each year sees riders of all skill levels, with various brands and styles of motorcycles – the only rule, Don’t Be A Dick.

We set out early on a Saturday morning avoiding all the commuter traffic that we normally run into when departing on our adventures. The first few hours leaving Johannesburg are always the toughest. You’ve been looking forward to this trip for months and you spend the first few hours on long and straight roads knowing that the turns will eventually come. The first set of fun turns quickly end just as we arrive into lunch into the mountain town of Clarens. For those who’ve never visited this area, it’s always a lively town filled with weekend warriors looking to get away from the city.

Leaving Clarens, the road begins to show off – cutting its way through the rocky cliffs of Golden Gate National Park.

On this stretch from Clarens to the Amphitheatre Backpackers, you finally get the chance to stretch the bike out, become comfortable leaning into the turns and take a chance to take in the amazing views with the city life now well behind you.

The arrival into the backpackers sneaks up on you just after chasing the person in front of you sweeping through the mountains. The lodge is tucked away into a small oasis in the middle of the rolling hills overlooking the impressive Drakensberg Escarpment. Settling into the lodge riders picked their mates for the night and fought over who would be the one on the bottom bunk.

With the mix of riders being from different towns, background and countries we like to arrange the riders goodie bags with luggage tags strategically at the big dinner table on the first night so that everyone gets a chance to meet someone they may haven’t gotten a chance to know. We find this tends to open up people to one another and offers them time to get to know one another.

Our departures this time of year tend to be quite early as we are limited to the amount of daylight needed to get us to our next stop. We left not long after sunrise and started to make our way closer to Sani Pass via the beautiful Midland roads. After stopping for lunch just 30 minutes away from the base of the pass we could all feel the excitement and tension in the air as we all knew we would soon find ourselves pushing our limits on Sani Pass.

Leading up to this adventure we reached out to local riders in the area to see if they had any feedback as to the conditions on the pass. Over the past year, construction has begun at the bottom section where bridges and outlines of where the road would be tarred had begun. We were told to expect very loose rocks and tough lines to follow.

We left lunch, fueled up the bikes before heading into Lesotho, stretched out the arms, took all the deep breaths we could and followed the signs for Sani Pass.

The beginning of the pass greeted us with extremely dusty conditions. The area hadn’t received any rain or snow for the past 2-3 weeks so we informed riders to give as much gap as possible so that they had visibility. Not only was the dust visibility a concern but heading up the pass just hours before sunset meant we’d be riding into the sun with dust all in front of us.

All were accounted for and came in quite close together as we got to the South African border post, which is the base of the Iconic Pass. From here on out to the Lesotho border, we didn’t know what to expect, but always to expect the worst.

With under 3 hours before the sun would set we felt well positioned to allow everyone enough time to get to the top before the border would close. Riders set out from the border at their leisure and the stoke levels were high. The loose rocks and tough lines were quickly visible as the climb began up to the first two river crossings. After the second river crossing was when things got interesting and when we encountered what we now call the “death zone.”

What normally would be a typical straight uphill climb into the mountain became a traffic jam of bikes slipping and sliding trying to battle their way up this extremely loose and rocky section. The first few riders made it up quite easily through the locals who were repairing the road but shortly after them, you could see the panic in the eyes of those that were next. Some of the riders had found good lines to go up, but the locals fixing the road began to block their lines and urge them to take another. This led into slippier sections with bigger areas of loose rock bed that soon got the riders stuck in one spot. At one point there were 4 bikes all on the brink of toppling over.

For those that had made it past this section, they had pulled over onto the flattest section possible to keep an eye on those behind knowing that there were going to be some riders who would need help. They quickly ran down to assist those who were spinning in one place and after a good, 30 minutes or so of pushing, lifting and digging the whole group made it past…this first gnarly section.

The riders who battled in the death zone were extremely exhausted and fatigued. This wasn’t a good place to be in as some of the toughest parts were still yet to come. Leaving the death zone the pass starts to level out a bit with a decent section of smooth lines before you begin to navigate your way up the iconic switchbacks of Sani pass.

With the level of fatigue being high it also meant that the throttle hand was also tired. The key to a successful summit on Sani Pass is consistent throttle. The moment you back off the throttle on one of the sharp uphill twists, the bike stalls and you begin to find yourself quickly trying to find your feet. Depending on which way you lean (usually the downhill side) means you’re probably going to drop the bike.

Luckily the way we ride and the mentality we have at Bonafide Moto Co. is to leave no man/woman behind. The riders naturally partnered up with those who were struggling so that when a bike went down they weren’t left on their own to pick it up.

We lost count of all the drops but that doesn’t matter anyway. What did matter was that just 30 minutes before the border gate closed everyone was accounted for, all bikes had made it to the top and we were safe and sound. To be honest, this summit of Sani Pass was by far the most challenging of all of our trips.

As mentioned before there were all types of bikes on this trip; 3 Triumph 1200 Scramblers, 3 Tiger 800’s, 3 Street Scramblers, 2 GS 650’s, 1 GS 800, 1 KTM 1290. But do you want to know which bike made it up with the most ease out of all of them? A stock Bonneville T120. Yup. It was the third time this specific bike had summited the pass and it did so quite easily. We’ve noticed that the lower the sense of gravity on the bike, the easier it is for the rider to get up.

That evening around dinner you could hear and you could sense the fear and realization of how challenging the ride up to the top was. Some riders were questioning whether or not they should go down the pass or take the long detour through Lesotho. For us, we prefer everyone stays together as a group, but we aren’t here to tell riders what they should do. After a good dinner, and a good nights rest the attitudes had changed. Everyone knew what they had signed up for and they each wanted to finish what they had set out to do.

Their reward after making their way down the pass? One of the most fun dirt roads connecting from Underberg to our final night stay at Nottingham Road Hotel. This 70km dirt road has been one of our favourites through the year as it’s thrown a bit of everything at us. The first year was a clay ice skating rink from a decent amount of rain that had come down on our way. This year was not the case and we lucked out with another dry, dusty and smooth ride into Himeville.

The last night is always the best as Notties Hotel has quite a unique local pub downstairs and this year it was all ours! We had all come a long way together, we pushed ourselves, we progressed our riding abilities and we struck up new and everlasting friendships that we will never forget.

Our next adventure into eSwatini, The Kingdom of Swaziland promises to be a good one. The neighbouring country provides a beautiful scene for both asphalt and gravel riding of some of the finest in Southern Africa.

To join us on the next adventure to some of the other areas in Southern Africa head over to our www.bonafidemotoco.com and get ready for one heck of a good time!

At ZA Bikers we needed a road trip. But not just any road trip. After a very rewarding few months of visiting and interacting with the Gauteng based dealers from all avenues of society, we thought it fitting to fan the friendship further than our municipal borders. We wanted to go where we had not gone before in our finely wrapped, pretty and imposing Ford panel van. 

Trust our editor in chief, Simon Morton for what happened next. We took a few wrong turn off’s against the advice of the stoic but professional GPS lady and ended up in the most beautiful cane fields and rolling hills. Off course the road had turned to gravel a few miles back and was becoming more challenging as the three of us gave our piece of mind to the GPS lady. What ensued was just a whole lot of mocking and laughter. 

It was a fitting start to our otherwise well-organised road trip of one whole week. You guessed it. Sugar cane fields can only mean that we were somewhere in the green, lush hills of KwaZulu-Natal, or KZN as most South Africans would call it nowadays. 

Our friend, Keryn Ehlers responsible for social media at a Gauteng based dealer had moved down to Durban and wanted us to offer our special toolset to the local KTM dealer, where she now works. It was certainly not hard to spot that she is loving life in KZN. We are so glad for her.

The building is presently under renovation and should be very impressive once finished. It is built on top of a busy Spar Supermarket. Why do I mention that? Because the best possible curry dishes can be picked up here for virtually nothing. It was finger-lickin’ good, to quote the words of Col. Saunders from KFC fame.

We started in Pietermaritzburg and worked our way to Pinetown and then Durban. From there we would head up North and into the Richards Bay area where we had heard reports of some vibrant biking activity.

We needed a break and we wanted a good story! Or should I say a feel-good story? Of course, we had no idea what to expect when we set off on a cold Sunday morning. At least we knew the weather would probably be a little less hostile in that part of the world. But what we found was a lot less hostilities, period!

We found a bunch of friendly, approachable dealers. They all knew exactly who we were despite the fact that every visit was a “cold call” as we say in the sales game. These dealers treated us like old friends and were very interested to hear how things were going in the rest of the country. 

We spent hours laughing and chatting as we were entertained by former MotoGP technicians, road racers from the days of old that mesmerised us as kids, all the way to Red Bull legends like Alfie Cox on the rolling hills of his Cato Ridge farm. It was a week that will remain a highlight in our minds for some time to come.

Personally, I managed to hook up with a few friends like Peter Marshall from Monster Motorcycles, who used to swop paint with me on our Gauteng race tracks weekend after weekend. In KZN you do not become a respected member of the community when you are this talented, you simply become a legend. Now past our circuit racing rivalry, we ensued in an arm wrestling match instead, to clarify who really should have been champion, back in the days. Laughter all round! 

Monster Motorcycles is part of a trio of bike shops in the same centre. The other two being Rocket Racing and Bikes4Africa. All these dealers hold impressive stock and dedicated staff. So nice to visit three bike shops within walking distance from one another.

I managed to also meet up with an old friend Shaheen that used to work at Auto Umhlanga BMW, now better known as SMG Umhlanga. We started selling bikes at round about the same time, some twenty years ago and could share stories about our experiences. He still exhibits that personal approach and soft-spoken voice that has endeared him to the local clientele from the last number of years. He remembers every customer’s name and pedigree as one should. Old school values lost in the winds of change, it seems. 

Over here, we also ran into an old friend and foe, Alister Hay. Alister trumped me as the number one BMW Sales Manager back in 2005 and 2006. We were two of only three South Africans fortunate enough to go to Spain in 2011 for inaugural rides and in-depth training on the then brand new K1600, six-cylinder models. Mutual respect is the password here… 

We had fun with the straight-talking Alfie Cox, whom I met for the first time. Off course, Alfie is better known as South Africa’s Dakar legend. A title no one will ever disown him. He also does guided off-road tours and events like the annual Dual Sport Festival, not far from where he lives.

Talking of which, the Natalians know their terrain. You get the feeling that they spend every weekend on their bikes, whether in the sugarcane fields like the ZA Bikers crew, or burning rubber somewhere in the midlands meander. True enthusiasts that live, breath and talk bikes all day, as this is who they are. 

We also found that many dealers helped each other out in keeping a chosen customer happy. We hear that the customers here are also very loyal, unlike what we find in the big smoke nowadays. All in all, I can describe it as the Gauteng era from twenty years ago, when these values were still at the order of the day. Things just seem to move way too fast in Gauteng nowadays…

Most of these dealers have immaculately turned out, old school Yamaha RZ50’s or Honda MBX’s gracing their showroom floors. We found the most beautiful, six-cylinder Honda CBX1000 at RBS Yamaha, sharing floor space with a Yamaha R1M, signed by Vinyales, all the way to a two-stroke YZ85 in perfect SuperMotard livery.

Blue blood in their veins, Yamaha blue… What a joy to see!

Perry Bikes is the local Powerhouse. We were greeted by a very approachable Mark Perry, owner of this fine establishment and his knowledgeable sales staff. There is a huge variety of bikes on their floor, both new and used! It took no time to set up their profile and train their staff in navigating the tools we supplied them.

Imagining things cannot get much better, we made our way up North to Richards Bay. This beautiful drive took us to even more friendly, warm-hearted people. First stop was Jaco, from Richards Bay Suzuki. The ZA Bikers crew met him on last year’s Suzuki weekend, where he made a huge, lasting impression! Of course, he was off visiting the Yamaha dealer when we got there, so we spoke to his wife Belinda and committed to return a bit later that same morning. We proceeded to visit the Yamaha, BMW, Kawasaki and Honda dealers next, mostly teeming with life. 

Oval track racing is also big in this town and everyone who is anyone was now busy preparing for their spotlight in the National Meetings over the weekend. Here we also found a community who knows very well who we are and welcomed us with open arms. 

More meaningful conversation was to be had when we returned to Jaco, the Suzuki man.

We had to leave eventually and it was most awkward for our resident photographer, Bjorn Moreira to be on the right side of the camera lens as Jaco took a parting shot of us. 

That night we slept in first-hand accommodation and had a meaningful dinner. We reminisced about a week well spent and people well worth remembering. We realised that there is life outside Gauteng, perhaps an even better, simpler life than we expose ourselves to every day. 

Hopefully, we forged friendships that will last for many years to come and we can happily report that the biking scene in KZN is alive and well, perhaps even downright more enjoyable and interactive. 

Perhaps I can one day persuade our editor in chief, to change headquarters to KZN, far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the Gauteng city noise…

Editors note; As a closing remark, we are sharing a link to the profiles of all the dealers we visited, complete with pictures, digital business cards and other useful info. We hope you enjoyed the read… www.zabikers.co.za/dealer-directory

Photo credit: Bjorn Moreira / ZA Bikers.

Let’s face it, we never need a reason to ride but it is sometimes fun to put a particular spin on it. I had some business appointments down in Barberton, in the Lowveld [or is that “Slowveld”?. I, as is usual, decided to go by bike despite the cold snap that promised to arrive on the Friday of my ride. I rolled out of Pretoria at 6 am on my Triumph Scrambler. I usually ride the back road to Bronkhorstspruit and then join the N4 heading east. This allows you to miss the first toll gate. Always a pleasure to put as little as possible into Sanral’s coffers! It was properly cold. Probably around minus 5 considering the wind chill factor. I was barely out of town when I hit the first bank of mist. My visor was misting up from my breath and this was now compounded by almost zero visibility in the misty pre-dawn half-light. I was literally riding at 55 kph, desperately wiping my visor every few seconds to remove the watery mist, and give me some semblance of sight. Eventually, I was forced to open my visor and duck down behind the Puig screen fitted to my Scrambler, where, by just peering over the top I had some semblance of vision. No way that this is fun but rather something to be endured as you pray for the mist to break. The frigid air hitting my face had me gasping for breath as my lungs rebelled against the icy onslaught.

The lights from oncoming traffic compounded the poor visibility problem as the mist on my visor splattered the light into a dazzling, blinding mess. Absolutely riding blind, your mind starts playing tricks on you that there is something in your path. Instinctively I backed off and moved my head around, trying to get the airstream to, just for a second, blow my visor clear and give me a glimpse of the road ahead. I was concentrating so hard that the stop sign where the road T-junctions with the Bronkhorstspruit road, almost took me by surprise. I turned left and gingerly made my way through even more dense mist. My worst nightmare was realised ten kays before Bronkhorstspruit when a collection of taillights sprang out of the mist and I climbed hard on the brakes, not knowing quite what was blocking the road. Literally idling along in first gear I made out an object in the road, which to my utter dismay was an F650GS BMW lying on its side, crash debris everywhere. The rider was lying clear of the road, spread-eagled on the ground. The fact that the cars and trucks that had stopped were directing traffic and not attending to the rider, made me fear the worst. Judging that there was nothing that I could do to help in any way, I mouthed a silent prayer as I continued on my way with a deep sadness in my soul for that unknown fallen brother.

Once on the N4 the mist started to lift and the light started to reclaim the land at the start of a new day. The landscape was frost bedecked and white in the weak wintery sunlight. As always, it felt even colder in the early morning first light. I rode on, deep in thought about how tenuous life can be. The traffic on the highway was already heavy as folks got away early to enjoy what was to be a long weekend. I pulled in at Milly’s to refuel, then turned off at Machadodorp, exiting the town via the R541. This quiet, scenic road drops off the highveld escarpment and winds its way down into the Lowveld, where it t-junctions with the Barberton – Badplaas road about ten kays outside of Badplaas. As you tumble and sweep down this winding and sweeping mountain road you become aware of the panoramic views of rugged cliffs and mountainsides split here and there with wispy waterfalls plunging many metres to the valley floor. In the summer, swollen with sometimes prolific rain they can be quite spectacular. As the Scrambler soaked up the sometimes uneven road surface and railed through the sweeps, my sombre mood lightened and I started to revel in the warmer Lowveld air. A heightened sense of life came over me as I soaked up the glorious mountain views and started to bond deeply with the big booming Triumph.

Turning left to Barberton, the fun gets even better as you descend the Mkonjwe mountains, with the neat plantations contrasting starkly with the jumbled mountain range. Looking left you are rewarded with glimpses of the valley stretching towards Mbombela. By the time I rolled into Barberton the eternal joy of riding a motorcycle through God’s own country had lifted my spirits. Once again I had that bike induced song in my heart and spring in my step. A quick Wimpy coffee and toast and I dispensed with business, raring to get on with my ride. Now for the “Name Game”. Try as I might, even after trolling the streets through the quaint little gold rush town, and even asking passers-by, I can confirm categorically that there is not a “BARBER” in Barberton. Well, I was planning to overnight in Mpumalanga, so let’s see if there is “GRAS” in Graskop……

The road to Mbombela is a beaut! The wooded hillsides are now regularly interspersed with the typical bushveld which gave that famous pooch, Jock, his name. You traverse the valley and then ascend the tight, curvy pass before descending into Mbombela. The surface is good and a real joy to ride on a torquey twin with plenty of ground clearance. The Scrambler is light steering yet stable as you switch direction and pitch it on its ear. All too soon the pass was behind me and I rolled into, and through a bustling town, with an already hectic rush hour swollen by tourists heading to their holiday destinations. I’m on a bike so no sweat. Threading through cues of idling four wheeled shopping baskets, I was soon on the road to White River and beyond.

The road to Hazyview is a long-time favourite. Sweeping past first the Pine Lake on your left and then a little further, the Da Gama Dam on your right, the views are amazing. I have ridden this road so many times over the years that I chuckle inside my helmet when it dawns on me that I even know where the bumps are, as well as subtle changes in camber. This is the incredible aspect of motorcycling. We constantly assess and hone our skills when riding familiar roads. Time stands still as you become one with the bike flowing down a road like a mountain stream meandering through the countryside. The views on this road are dominated by wooded mountainsides which slowly give way to fields of bananas, and then typical bushveld around Hazyview.

Exit Hazyview, and then just after crossing the Sabie river and passing the quaintly named “Hippo Hollow”, you hook a left to Graskop via Kowyns Pass. This is a seriously high-speed road. These days you need to exercise some caution as there are some potholes that have the potential to make a meal of you and your bike. You sweep through long wooded bends with truly spectacular views to all sides. This is another reason to show some restraint. It is a travesty to be in such “attack” mode that you miss the spectacle going on around you. I rode at a healthy clip yet still enjoyed the scenery flashing by.

Some haphazard cloud on the horizon became inflamed by the massive red orb of the setting sun. I had to stop and try to record the spectacle on the “digital” film.

The chilly mountain air was again making its presence felt but in an invigorating way. The road tightened up through Kowyn’s Pass, much to my and the Scrambler’s glee. I stopped in town for fuel so as to be ready for an uninterrupted start the next day, then cruised on to my overnight destination, the Valley View Backpackers. This establishment, on the west of town, gives an uninterrupted view across the valley towards Pilgrim’s Rest. So let me, at this point already, not keep you in suspense but confirm that there is plenty of GRAS in Graskop. In the company of some foreign tourists that evening I can report that grass of the “electric spinach” variety is also not in short supply! You just got to love Africa!

Let me digress for a moment. If you want to travel fast and light, then overnighting in backpackers establishments is just the ticket. Accommodation cost is reasonable, with options to suit all budgets, from dorm-type arrangements [a lot of fun when you are travelling in a group] to en-suite options. I habitually stay in the “Valley View” room which is en-suite with its own toilet and shower. The communal kitchen is the place to get chatting to fellow travellers as meals are prepared. Braai facilities are available too. With a fire going in the lounge, it is really all rather jolly sipping a glass of hooligan soup and chatting to folk from all over. Beds are clean, warm and cosy. Bikes are behind a locked gate, safe and secure. Having had a latish lunch I decided that I couldn’t do justice to my freeze-dried Thai curry, so I chowed a packet of peanuts with a few Captain Morgan’s and just chilled. Everyone turned in by ten and I was snug under the duvet despite the icy Graskop chill outside.

Saturday dawned clear and bright. I showered, punished a cup of coffee then layered up against the early morning chill. A quick chain lube and I was on my way. Riding out of town on the road to Bourke’s Luck and the Potholes, the views were breathtaking. The mountainsides were bathed in the bright early morning sunlight that had banished all but the most tenacious mist to the deepest valleys. Here and there tendrils of mist still stretched their wispy fingers across the road as I raced by. This is high-speed Nirvana. On a Sports weapon, you duck behind the screen and lace together the 240 kph sweepers. I was a little more restrained on the Triumph, but let all 1200cc’s off the leash. The dreaded mist once again spoilt my fun. As I raced towards the valley floor the spooky chill of the mist enveloped me and I was forced to back off. No sooner had I reined in the Scrambler when three cows came plodding along the road. My Sainted Aunt, ploughing into those chaps would have been an epic stufupp! “mombies in the mist” my Rhodie buddies would have said. Cattle were referred to as “mombies” back in the day in Rhodesia, no doubt taken from a Shona or Matabele name. Luckily the mist abated quite soon, just past the “Three Rondavel’s”, then it was back to corner strafing fun. Again the wooded mountainsides had gone, with Mopane bushveld making its first appearance.

In no time I reached the t-junction to turn right up the Abel Erasmus Pass. Up and over we went, the Triumph and I, dropping down through the Kloof like a mini Meiringspoort, and then through the Strydom Tunnel. Now I had the Blyde river vistas to my left and moss coloured mountains all around me.

Lord, the majesty of your creation never ceases to captivate and enthral me! With the versatility of the Scrambler, I rode down a gravel road next to the river for a photo, then flat-tracked out of there. Man oh man, this thing is proper! Back on the tar, I turned left towards Tzaneen. I had it in my mind to look up Modjadji, the Rain Queen, and ask her what the hell she is up to. To tell her that the guys in Cape Town want her to abdicate her throne. This means we must return to the “Name Game” and ride “Modjaji Kloof”. Try as I might, I just could not track her down.

The Galuchi Vervet monkey clan, her emissaries, were staying stum, so unfortunately I must conclude that Modjadji is no longer resident in Modjadji’s Kloof! Now, what about Duiwel’s Kloof? Do you think Old Nick hangs out there or did the place just get a bad rep? There is only one way to find out. Up and down I went, Georges Valley, Duiwels Kloof, Magoebas kloof and eventually all the way to Haenertsburg. The old serpentine fellow never showed. Perhaps he is “going hither and thither, seeking to kill and destroy”, but I’ll tell you something, those roads are more like Heaven to me!

A belated brekkie in Haenartsburg and then back on the road. Polokwane, and the N1 home. I rolled into my spot at around 15:00 pm, a little sore of tush, but in very high spirits. A quick 675 k’s dispensed with through some of the most splendid scenery that you can imagine. We are blessed to live in the most amazingly beautiful and diverse country. William Wallace, the Scottish patriot is quoted as saying, “all men must die, but only some men truly live”.

To play the “Name Game” and venture far and wide in our awesome land, is to truly live! Grab a map book and plan your own “Name Game”, you will add another amazing page to your book of motorcycling adventure, as I did.

I am in creative conversation with Miguel Lage, Dealer Principal at RAD Moto, Rivonia. He carefully studies the digital map and the route that I have proposed for our next soulful adventure, without saying a word. Lesotho has been his playground for many years and I value any input that he may have to share.

I get a grin on my face, as I study his – I love these moments! Moments when I see a grown man become a boy again. An adventure seeker to the core, he eventually breaks the silence and the wisdom starts to flow. He knows full well what we will encounter in the days ahead. I can see him shifting schedules around in his head, trying to find a way to join Hennie Olivier, Pieter Du Plessis and myself, to this biking paradise. It was not to be and I will keep haunting him to join us on future travels.

Back to the opening statement. The bike he is referring to is the new KTM 790 Adventure R. He believes this is the weapon of choice in KTM’s vast arsenal of adventure sports motorcycles. Riaan Neveling, likeable Marketing Manager at KTM South Africa, was kind enough to arrange one for me as the backdrop to this experience.

The brief was simple; I wanted to test the KTM on a proper 5-day journey, with every conceivable type of terrain thrown into the mix. The weather would be moderate to cold, with no rain or snow forecast in the coming days. Camping equipment and the like, to be strapped onto the bike by means of a generic soft luggage system.

Riaan rose to this challenge without a moment’s hesitation and started making the necessary arrangements. I was ultimately supplied with a squeaky clean 790 Adventure R, complete with Akrapovic slip-on. Even the chain had been meticulously cleaned and lubricated as a final touch. A few unavoidable battle scars gave the bike an authentic ring and we were good to go!

“Tally-ho” is a term used by modern-day fighter pilots when they engage the enemy in a dog fight – no holds barred. I felt like screaming this in my helmet as the scenic cattle tracks on the plains turned into a steep, twisty, rutted and badly maintained Matebeng Mountain Pass. Entering Lesotho from Matatiele on the South African side at Ramatsediso border post, which is towards the southeastern side of the Mountain Kingdom, you can look towards the vast, far-reaching mountain line and possibly see a communication tower. This signifies the summit at 2960 meters above sea level. Loose rocks strewn all over the place, we negotiate switchback after switchback on what seems like a never-ending climb.

This is the stuff dreams are made off; the stuff that makes campfire stories come to life! I have to use my best behaviour not to put a foot wrong. Drawing on a few years of enduro riding experience, I wrestle to the summit, as mentioned previously, with only a communication tower and my two riding buddies gracing the endless mountain line. For the technically minded, the vertical elevation from the valley floor to the summit is 700 meters.

I stop for a brief moment to peruse our progress and make the decision to tackle the very challenging descent while my mind is in harmony with my body. For the first time, it was necessary to dab with the left foot from rock to rock while carefully modulating the rear brake in the standing position. The elevation drop on this descent was a staggering 1200 meters. Tense moments, as the last thing I want to do, is compromise the goodwill extended to me by KTM with the unconditional loan of this highly anticipated wonder machine.

Eventually reaching the valley floor without incident and a fair bit of relief, we follow a twisty track that ultimately leads us into the most pleasing, secluded, camping spot and not a soul in sight. Majestic oak trees grace the crystal clear river line to the one side, while an imposing mountain towers over us to the other side.

“This is where we will set camp for the night”, exclaims Hennie while carefully watching my reaction. He knows all too well that this is the moments we live for. I look at my dream maker friend with a contented smile as we start setting up camp. Hennie and Pieter stumbled onto this piece of heaven on a previous visit and vouched that this will be our next camping spot under the African stars.

As the sun sets slowly, autumn colours accentuate the yellow oak leaves falling to the ground forming a rustling velvet carpet underfoot. We set up our tents facing each other, sharing a hot cup of coffee in the autumn chill and light-hearted conversation, we settled in for the night with an almost full moon peeking through our canvas tent walls. Who knows what tomorrow will bring…?

Day breaks and the lazy autumn sun is reluctant to show its face in this secluded, well-sheltered place. We decided to wake up early and just enjoy the surrounds for a few hours before moving on. This seems to have been a very wise choice as all sorts of friendly, curious visitors start showing up. First off was the sight and sound of the cattle herders, leading their livestock past the campsite and further up the mountain. Pieter is well versed in Sesotho and strikes up a friendly conversation.

Next up was a symphony of bells as the sheepherders came past from the little village nearby. Rush hour was now in full swing and I could only chuckle when I met the sheepherder. Technology seems to find a way into every corner of this world as I noticed him holding a portable solar panel in each hand, carefully wired to the mini “jukebox” around his neck. Man, this was funny and so original. I made a video and took some pics. Of course, the friendly young man could not figure out what the fuss was about.

Soon afterwards we decided to take a dip in the icy mountain stream carving through our little piece of heaven. Hennie and I challenge ourselves on every trip by doing something out of the ordinary. It’s about making memories, after all. Needless to say, this ordeal was quite entertaining for the locals but, for some reason, they could not be persuaded to join us. We took the opportunity to wash away the dust and dirt and just enjoy the near-freezing temperatures on offer. If you have not done this yet, then you are probably wiser than us….

After some wholesome conversation with the campsite manager, we parted with a camping fee of thirty Rand per person. For our American friends, this equates to about two dollars. We signed the visitors’ book and off we went on what promised to be another blissful day of clear weather and picture-perfect scenery.

The smooth gravel road took us all along the Orange River over bridges, streams and glorious mountain passes with deeply carved valleys on either side. This is the unpaved road that leads from Matebeng to Taung. It seems that rainfall in this part of Lesotho is less as the gravel surfaces are in very good, smooth condition. Very little traffic and low population density epitomize the remoteness of this landlocked kingdom.

Due to the near-perfect conditions, we go on the offensive and test our limits on the KTM. Was this a revelation? The suspension and chassis seem to have been designed with this windy gravel road in mind! The harder I rode, the more composed the bike became. The power delivery was predictable, yet direct in the “Off-Road” setting. The OEM Metzeler Karoo 3 tyres could barely hold their own and I can remember wishing they were Michelin Anakee Wilds, which is my first choice adventure tyre at the moment. Small details aside, this bike made me feel like I could relaunch my now-defunct racing career. It was that good!

An immediate observation is that the suspension setting favours function over comfort. You get the best from this bike when riding it hard – that’s just the way it is. I am sure that the suspension can be adjusted to favour comfort above ultimate performance, in order to suit touring type riding styles. I can remember laughing out loud as bike and scenery just mesmerized all sense and sensibility. On this very road, I waved Hennie and Pieter down and insisted that they each take a go at riding this wild child. There were smiles all round and it took them the rest of the day to remember that they were Yamaha and BMW fans respectively. We had huge fun all morning…

We refuel in Thaba Tseka and start making our way to Katse Lodge. This was another gravel road, wide and twisty, but badly rutted from ample rain in preceding weeks. This rocky surface was a real tester for man and machine! Over the years, I have learned to take decent, smooth lines through these kinds of corners out of respect for my equipment. It was on the 790R that I realized this no longer applies. I could select just about any line through these wide corners. With this kind of suspension performance, the inside line was perfect, but so was the middle line and the outside. This was just crazy. Some corners would see me seated and others would see my ‘full-on-attack’ mode in the standing position.

It was on these roads that I tested the ‘Rally’ mode. This transformed the bike into an off-road animal. Do not try this mode if you are in the wrong headspace. The difference from “Off-Road” mode to “Rally” mode is immediately tangible. The throttle response becomes brutish and demands your full attention! With this kind of riding my soft luggage started ripping to shreds and would never be the same again. I made a plan with some of my old faithful bungee hooks, in order for me to ignore this fact and have some more fun. We reached Katse Lodge shortly before dark, where we bunked for the night, enjoying some good food and a decent shower. We sat on comfortable couches by the fireplace until it was time to get some rest.

Well rested, we woke up early to capture the sunrise over Katse Dam. Another good day beckons. We took this wild route back to Thaba Tseka for a refuel. From here we followed the tarred A3 and A5 towards Roma, Ramabanta and ultimately to Semonkong Lodge for a late lunch. Dear reader, these are small sentences that cannot begin to encapsulate these amazing roads. It was heaven on earth. There were many miles where we rode on the crest of the mountain ranges with deep valleys on either side. The quality of the surface was amazing as these roads see very little traffic and hardly any cattle. After two hard days off-road, traversing these mirror-smooth roads felt like a gift from above.

This is where the Metzeler Karoo 3 tyres stamp their authority as possibly the best tar road adventure tyre around – I could throw that 790 from side to side with reckless abandon. I moved into what I call the ‘Zero Zone’; my description for the perfect ride in perfect conditions. We eventually pass the towns of Roma and Ramabanta and then onwards to Semonkong Lodge in the early afternoon where we encountered some American tourists and a well deserved late lunch. We were in very high spirits, as this trip escalated from good, – to better – to brilliant!

As mentioned in previous travel blogs, we like to travel towards a theme rather than merely a destination. This ensures an open canvas, allowing creativity about routes and places to visit. I have been fortunate enough to align myself with like-minded people from all walks of life in this pursuit. Hennie Olivier is a well-travelled, highly entertaining specimen. He is a master at putting routes together that needs very little modification. We have travelled to weird and wonderful places together and there are certainly no plans to stop doing this in the near future. Pieter Du Plessis is the kind of person you want on every trip. He is a soft-spoken, easy-going individual. He is a very competent rider that you never have to worry about or look after. He goes wherever the road leads and is well organised. He also speaks a few native languages which are invaluable when we find ourselves in the remotest parts, far from civilisation.

Shortly after our last excursion, I mentioned that I would someday like to pitch my tent right on the escarpment overlooking the Maletsunyane Waterfall close to the town of Semonkong. Next thing I knew, Hennie had the whole route mapped out and raring to go. Travel buddy Cobus Bekker could not make it due to professional commitments, so in the end, it was Pieter, Hennie and myself.

Maletsunyane Waterfall is one of the highest single-drop waterfalls in the Southern Hemisphere. It plummets a staggering 192 meters from top to bottom and is a glorious sight to see. We were fortunate enough not to just see it, but camp on the escarpment in full view of the raging water. This was the ‘destination’ part of our trip; the embodiment of our brief. Needless to say, this is a must-do activity while it is still somewhat of a secret. Lying in our tents that night, listening to the sound of the laughing waters, the full moon as our backdrop, makes me relive the last few days. I dream myself to sleep…

The next morning saw some more antics and laughter as we slowly packed-up to head home, back to the Big Smoke and an altogether different kind of sound. Hennie led us through to Peka Border Post, close to Ficksburg, in our bid to make it back home. I declined their offer for lunch in Bethlehem, as I wanted to revisit these amazing days in the privacy of my helmet, with the muffled sound of the wind through my earplugs, pondering why we ride.

The answer to this never really seems to fall on the tongue because there are just so many reasons as to why we do what we do. It’s somewhat like a pilgrimage; a religious experience; a self-awakening; an educator of sorts, and a sure way to keep us humble.

Onto the next adventure, discovering a world of endless wonder…

Nothing elicits a feeling of longing and nostalgia in me more than watching a YouTube clip of bikes and buds on a road trip through an arid landscape. I literally feel the heat, smell the dust, revel in the amber glow of the sunset and live for the African aroma of a “hardekool” fire. You may need the coals of that fire to cook your meal, warm you or maybe just to sooth your soul with its primal endless attraction and comfort. It was in this mood, that my son, also Dave and I packed our two SYM 300cc scooters for what promised to be another epic road trip. Dave was to ride the EVO GTS, while I was on the CITYCOM 300i. The EVO, as I mentioned in my recent review, is exactly that, having grown to 263.7cc’s from what started life as a 250. The CITYCOM has a newer bespoke motor of an actual 278.7cc’s. Ceramic bore and all, it is high tech and punches way above its weight. The CITYCOM sports larger,16 inch wheels, with the GTS rolling on more “Scooterish” 13 inchers. Enough specs, this is about the ride!

The GTS packs a bit easier for a trip as it has a larger cavity under the seat, which swallows an amazing amount of stuff. The passenger seat backrest serves as a great backstop for a waterproof stuffbag which is easily secured to the passenger seat by utilising the grab rails as anchor points. This has you ready to roll in no time. The CITYCOM was not much more of an issue. The grab rails also work a treat as they extend around the back of the bike. My trusty “All Terrain Gear bag” went at the back with my ground sheet, self inflating mattress and camping stool giving me something to lean back against. The bikes were both fuelled up, so we rolled out of my yard at midday on the Thursday preceding the Easter weekend. We were hoping to get the jump on the ZCC pilgrims travelling to Polokwane for their Easter celebrations. However, the N1 was very busy as everyone seemed to have the same idea about getting a head start. Tollgates and heavy traffic are a recipe for delays, causing kilometre plus, long log jams. Being on scooter’s, we quickly realised that the SYM’s gave us the freedom of the highways as well as the cities! Cruising effortlessly at 115 to 120, they sped past the traffic and short circuited the cues at the tollgates. Running at around 6500 rpm they are at there torque peak, so hills are a non issue. We snuck past a 4 kilometre long traffic jam at the exit to Modimolle. Chuckling like dervishes, we wondered at anyone dumb enough to travel far on an Easter weekend on anything with more than two wheels. When will they ever learn?

Travelling on way less busy roads we spotted Impala, Sable antelope and Warthog as we scooted to our first stop for a belated lunch at the Zeederberg Centre outside of Vaalwater. After inhaling a couple of sizeable burgers, we topped up our fuel tanks to see what sort of consumption we were getting at open road speeds. We were gobsmacked to find that both bikes were delivering just over 30 K’s to a litre! With tanks of over 10 litres that meant an easy 300 K’s range. Scooters exhibit a somewhat choppy ride compared to a conventional motorcycle. This is probably due to limited suspension travel, allied to a stiff monocoque chassis. Comfort remains substantial due to sumptuous seats and decent damping. Wind and weather protection is excellent. The CITYCOM is so good that it creates a slight vacuum behind the screen which almost pulls your upper body slightly forward. You soon get used to it and cruise along without any wind buffeting and minimal noise. The GTS screen is further from the rider and a bit lower, so whilst it negates wind-blast on your chest, it does allow more air onto your torso. This is actually comfy when the weather is hot as it allows you to cool off. Numb-bum is simply not an issue on either bike.

We rolled up to Martin’s Drift Border post in the late afternoon and it took about an hour to get through both sides and into Botswana. There is always a heightened sense of purpose and anticipation when you have dispensed with border formalities and are once again “loose on the land”. A quick fuel up and we were on our way to Palapye and Itumela Camp for our first night in Bots’. The two SYM’s ran into a stunning African sunset. The surrounding bush had a strong green tinge from the recent rains and the sky was just about cloudless. As the sun ebbed from the sky, the last rays lit up a zig zag cloud formation that lined up perfectly with the road ahead. The road took on a molten silver hue and seemed to take off into a fiery trail into the sky. As if this was not sufficiently surreal, a glance in the rear view mirror showed a huge orange full moon rising directly behind us. We stopped to take photos which can never do justice to the spectacle that we were witnessing. We then jumped back on the bikes and rode into the gathering darkness.

I never ride at night on country roads if I can avoid it. The risks are just off the scales; potholes, animals and cars without lights, you name it. What added to our woes was that there was quite a heavy volume of oncoming traffic. This meant we were forced, for the most part, to travel on dims. The two SYM’s have excellent lights, especially the GTS with its side running lights as well. Even on dims, they give a good spread of light. It was this wide peripheral vision that saved my bacon. A dark brown donkey suddenly walked into the road just metres ahead of me but the light from the CITYCOM reflected off his lighter underbody, allowing me to swerve with literally millimetres to spare! Severely rattled, I waited for a car to pass us then slotted in behind him for the last 30 K’s to Palapye. He could run interference for us and prevent us having to wear any errant animal. Needless to say, it was a relief to pull into Itumela and settle in with a well deserved ‘frosty’.

The next morning before seven we rolled out of our campsite invigorated by a good night’s rest. We soon settled into a rhythm with both the SYM’s and us loving the cool, crisp morning air. Fuelling just before Francistown, we pulled in for a good old Wimpy breakfast before heading north towards Nata where, for me, the “real” Botswana begins. I haven’t commented on how the scooters were running because, other than the fact that they were running sweeter and stronger with each passing kilometre, there is nothing to add. By now they had earned our complete and utter respect! It would not be long before they raised that respect another notch or two.

The 180 K’s to Nata is punctuated by some short road repairs and off road deviations. No sweat, the super SYM’s took it all in their stride. Then we really put them to a test which, with hindsight, was a tad crazy. We pulled into Nata Sanctuary, which gives one access to the pans proper. I actually stopped, out of curiosity, wondering how wet they were and if perchance the flamingos were “at home”. “The road is passable and, yes, the flamingos are in” said the lady at reception. Ok then, but is that 4×4 passable or will two wide ranging brave-hearted city slickers manage the calcrete, washed out, whooped, fesh-fesh infested goat track to where water cover the pans for as far as the eye can see? Water that would now be tinged pink by tens of thousands of flamingos. Well, we paid our monies and took our chances. Gingerly you must understand, because I want to return bikes in the same condition in which I get them.

In no time the two SYM’s gave us huge confidence, even when traversing soft sand. Obviously the designers never had this in mind when they conceived these scooters, however the engine weight on the back wheel gives great traction and even the fuel is under your feet. The centre of gravity is so low that they have no tendency to topple over like so many adventure bikes. They were an effortless blast to ride down the sand track to the pans.

The sight of the flamingos in their thousands was spectacular. As an encore we got to ride within a hundred metres of a large herd of wildebeest. Shaking our heads in wonderment, we took some pics then retraced our tracks and got back on the tar for a few more K’s before pulling in to Nata Lodge for some welcome cold beverages.

We now had only a short hop to Elephant Sands, our final destination, so we got back on our Scoot’s and fuelled up with petrol and a stash of water in Nata, before riding north for just over 50 K’s. Just before the Lodge, we pulled into a siding where water was being pumped into a Scania tanker and trailer.

This would in turn be emptied into two pans for the benefit of the wildlife in that area and specifically the large elephant population. We had passed two elephants already, browsing alongside the road. You have to remind yourself that you are not traversing a game park but are rather in Africa as God intended it – wild and free, for animals to roam where they choose.

Elephant Sands was established some sixteen years ago. A little more than two kilometres of sand jeep track takes you to the Lodge.

In the dry season, typically after July and until the rains start in earnest in November, this place is inundated with elephants who come from far to savour the 250000 litres of fresh water that is pumped for them daily from almost 14 kilometres away. Literally hundreds of these lumbering pachyderms will visit the drinking trough located a scant ten metres from the lodge. To sit after dinner next to the fire with a glass of decent red and watch the elephants interact as they jostle each other for a turn at the trough, is an experience that you will never forget.

It is uncanny how silently these huge grey wraiths appear as if by magic, and then, just as stealthily they fade away back into the bush. Getting up to go to the loo in the night needs a good look around as one can easily encounter an elephant or two on their way to or from the water. They are incredibly tolerant of people. A really dumb tourist, who seemed to think he was at the Hamburg zoo and approached really close for a selfie, was quickly put to flight when the jumbo being harassed seemed almost obliged to see him off with a mock charge and a trumpet blast before going on with his business.

We set up our tent, allowed our self-inflating mattresses to inflate, rolled out our sleeping bags and hey presto, it was time for a St Louis Export to celebrate an incredible day of SYMmetry. A bit of light entertainment was provided by a group of Adventure bike riders from Bothaville who were travelling with a back up 4×4 bakkie carrying their kit. They were literally speechless when the two SYM’s rode into the campsite. They ignored us like the proverbial stop street until we engaged them in conversation. Difficult to be hardcore in the wilds of Botswana on your GS’s and KTM 1190 when the “Freedom of the City” rolls in.

Highlight of any visit to Ellie Sands [other than the Ellies] is the dinners. Showered and fresh, we sipped on a couple of sundowners in the glow of another African sunset in really special surroundings. Elephants came and went from the water as the sun’s gentle glow receded into darkness opposite a full moon rising with such an orange glow that it could easily be mistaken for a massive veld fire on the horizon. Accompanying this spectacle was the wonderful aroma of roasting meat on which we would shortly feast. All was truly well with our souls! Elephants are fascinating to watch. Sitting at the fire, no more than four metres from the nearest ellie, you pick up the fascinating subtleties of elephant behaviour. There were a few really big guys at the water. Another front row forward type would approach and the posturing would begin. A violent shake of the heads would flail the huge ears producing a thunderclap of sound and a halo of dust around their heads. I could just imagine what incredible photo’s Kawasaki’s Chris Speight would capture of this jumbo spectacle, given his talent behind the lens. The giants face off, mock charging each other whilst trumpeting. Being that close to a bellowing elephant is not something easily forgotten. It is not at all unusual to see an ellie with his tusks nudging, no, shoving his buddy from behind, to move him from the water rather forcefully. You simply cannot tire of watching them.

Mike Toth, the lodge manager, has a special bond with one of the grey giants who is so well known to the locals that they have named him Ben in honour of the owner of Elephant Sands. A massive ulcerated wound on his foreleg hindered him drinking as the jostling at the water was just too painful. Mike got a vet out from Gabs who darted Ben, then cleaned the wound thoroughly and administered antibiotics. While he was recovering, Mike would water him with a hose into a drum set up in the campsite. Ben made a complete recovery, however he would seek out Mike, whenever he was around the lodge and Mike would water him from the hose. It got to the point where Mike would stroke Ben’s trunk as he drank. Almost a year went by without Ben putting in an appearance with Mike fretting that something had happened to him. On one day, he arrived with a small herd, watered and moved off. At that point Mike was alerted to his presence and called Ben by name. Hearing Mike calling, he broke from the herd and trotted over to greet his friend with an obvious show of affection. It is stories like this that fill us with wonder at the intelligence and obvious emotions that these magnificent animals possess.

By this time our delicious dinner was resulting in a serious case of “tight skinned Gorilla syndrome”. You know when your stomach distends from an excellent meal and pulls your eyelids shut! So off to our tent we went in the glow of the full moon and snuggled into our sleeping bags. We drifted off to sleep with ongoing “elephant music” in the background. What a privilege it is to live and ride motorcycles, in this most magnificent and diverse of all continents.

It was already light, but the sun had not yet poked its fiery head above the horizon when we emerged from our tent. The chilly morning air hinted at the changing seasons as I went through the familiar ritual of getting water going on my little gas cooker for that essential first caffeine kick of the day. Sitting on our camp stools next to our tent and trusty parked SYM’s, we sipped on piping hot coffee and watched the rising sun splash some early morning clouds the most magnificent orange, heralding in another African day.

Not wanting to let his never ending Ironman training slip, Dave jnr donned his running kit and set off for a trot accompanied by CITYCOM SYM and me. He did a quick twelve K’s in the fresh and pure Botswana air as I kept him company and played water-boy on the SYM. We passed a termite mound with the bleached thigh bone of an elephant imbedded horizontally through it. How the hell did that happen, I wondered? Was the bone lying on the ground and got lifted up as the mound grew or what? Nature never ceases to amaze! Back at the lodge we went about our morning ablutions, smacked a bacon and egg brekkie, then settled down on loungers next to the pool for a day of R and R. As the sun started to assert itself and the early morning gentle breeze dropped, we found it necessary to ward off that dreaded dehydration with the odd frosted beverage. Ain’t life just dandy?

Enter Raimon and Dominique. Lounging next to the pool we spied a couple of cyclists negotiating the sand road to the lodge. They made there way to the campsite, parked their well worn and heavily laden bikes against a fallen down tree, then walked over to the lodge for a cold drink. First impressions of Raimon were of a lean yet muscular man of slightly above average height, his olive skin tanned a deep brown by many hours of exposure to the elements. A bandana covered shaven head and a goatee beard just tinged with grey, gave him an almost piratanical air. Perfectly even white teeth, accentuated by his deep tan, punctuated his face every time he laughed or smiled.

His partner, Dominique, was tiny. Short, blond and impishly pretty with page boy short dishevelled helmet hair.

With both Dave and I being seasoned cyclists, it was only a matter of time before we struck up a conversation. It turns out that Raimon has cycled through almost every corner of the globe, covering over 60000 K’s to date. A couple of years back he met Dominique in South America where she was on an adventure of her own. She was smitten by the suave Catalan globetrotter, so she quit her job, bought a bike and joined him on his travels. She now works for six months in Switzerland then joins Raimon wherever in the world he might be at that time. They had already ridden 4500 K’s through SA, starting in Cape Town, up route 62, then dropping down to the garden route to PE, through the Transkei, across Lesotho and across the Free State into Botswana. They then crossed the Makgadigadi pans from Kubu Island, running out of food and water before reaching Gweta on the north side of the pans. Flip!, I’ve ridden a bike across the pans from Kubu and suffered the 30 K’s of deep sand tracks through the mopane forest before Gweta, and that was hard going. I can only imagine how deep they had to dig to do that on pedal power! Respect! Check out Raimon’s website on: www.bicicletaimanta.cat. It makes for fascinating reading.

There was another world travelling cyclist in the campsite too. A pretty dark haired girl named Tatiana. She has travelled solo on her bicycle across vast tracts of the planet. Unbelievable what courage and determination such an endeavour must require. Listening to these people share their experiences really gets you thinking. When you settle for the old nine to five, the house, wife, kids and picket fence, it comes at a price. It reminds me of the quote by William Wallace, the Scottish patriot who famously said, “all men must die, but only some men truly live”. We spend so much time gathering stuff that you can’t take with you when you snuff it and too little time enjoying the God given splendour of the incredible planet on which we live. We enjoyed an epic Elephant Sands dinner in the company of Raimon and Dominique. We drank a couple of bottles of good red whilst being enthralled by their travel tales. As if on purpose, the Ellies put on an amazing show for us. Double in number to our first night, they wheeled and turned, jostled for position at the water trough, trumpeting from both ends. You eat up to 250 kg’s of foliage every day and see if you too don’t get a trifle windy! Elephant sized rippers were the order of the night. The four of us returned to our campsite for a quiet nightcap, where we had a truly special elephant encounter. Standing around our braai place we noted a huge bull elephant coming from the water directly towards us.

We stood silently and overawed as the huge animal stopped literally within scant metres of us. He was so close that we looked up at him, getting a true appreciation of just how huge these animals are. For at least five minutes we simply stood silently in the presence of this magnificent beast. He then ambled silently past us on his huge padded feet and moved away into the bush. Thrilled and chilled at the same time by this encounter, we finished our drinks and prepared for bed.

Up at first light, Dave and I packed up camp, showered and fired up our magnificent SYM’s. A short hop to Nata Lodge for their expensive but extensive super tasty buffet breakfast, before retracing our steps south to the border. The ride to the border was swift, smooth and uneventful. It was mid-afternoon when we pulled in to Kwa Nokeng lodge on the banks of the Limpopo river, having despatched almost 500 K’s on our SYM’s. Sitting on the deck overlooking the river we slowly sipped on a cold one whilst marvelling over the comfort, reliability, brilliant fuel consumption and just general competence of our two SYM scooters. We found that we could average similar speeds to much faster vehicles as they would fly past us then get caught behind the next convoy of cars stuck behind a pedestrian truck. We would SYMply hold our pace and slip past the row of vehicles without even crossing the centre line. It would take the cars many minutes to catch us again, overtake and once again get stuck behind another slow vehicle. Once again we would pass and disappear into the distance. Great fun. The bikes ran better and better the more they piled on the K’s. Cruising at an indicated 120 was effortless with more in reserve for overtaking.

We slept in a Safari tent so as to get an early start the next morning. We were through the border by just before 6am and had to wait a couple of minutes for the fuel station to open. The border was a nightmare for some as hundreds of ZCC members returned to Botswana from Moria. Luckily we were going the other way so formalities were a doddle. The sun only rose around 6.30 off to our left as we sped towards Lephalale. Over the mountain and down to Vaalwater for breakfast and a most welcome cappuccino. Fed and watered we resumed our journey, joining the chaos of the N1 just after Modimolle. Thank heavens, once again, for the traffic carving SYM’s. The highway was traversed in next to no time despite the bumper to bumper traffic, made worse by the brain-donor traffic police and SAPS, who deemed it necessary to conduct a road-block on Easter weekend on the busiest road in the country. ‘Nuffsaid’!

Approaching the Rigel avenue, off ramp on the N1 from the north, you have a really long, speed sapping hill. To give you some idea, my CRF 250 Honda would struggle to maintain 120 kph up this incline. I decided to give the CITYCOM it’s head up this hill to see how it would fare. Driven by a mere 263cc’s and laden with all my camping kit, that phenomenal little scoot ran to 145 km/h and was still accelerating! Dave on the GTS was not far behind despite me getting the jump on him.

Just shy of 1900 kilometres over everything that Botswana could throw at them, and the two 300 SYM’s performed absolutely flawlessly. Incredible average fuel consumption of over 30 km/L and no oil used. SYM have built two scooters of which they can be justifiably proud. I would jump on either and ride them anywhere. Of the two, I would rate the more sumptuous EVO 300i GTS as the tourer, with the slightly sleeker and marginally perkier CITYCOM as the Sports Tourer. Whatever the adventure, commute or road trip, they are up for it! Question is, are you?

A huge thanks to Chris and Kibble at KMSA for entrusting us with these great bikes for our Botswana SYMmetry adventure. You clearly knew what these amazing scooters are capable of. As for our two SYM’s, it was a real wrench taking them back to KMSA. I even found myself talking to them when I was giving them a good clean. Talk about bonding with your bike! “Freedom of the City” is a given when you buy a SYM, you just don’t expect to get the “Freedom of the Country” to boot!

For more information on SYM products visit: www.sym.co.za