I was just out of school when the unexpected happened. I was getting ready to go to university and become a chic business woman, when I woke up one day and my adventurous father decided to spoil me with an old Yamaha 250XT scrambler.

Gone were the days of working so hard to get rid of my sporty, tomboyish style and wearing my high-heels (which I never managed to master anyway) were put on hold. I was all to happy to follow in the footsteps of my forefathers. Exploration and traveling was in my blood, I was born that way. Needless to say, I jumped at the opportunity and nothing could stop me. I was going to ride around the world with the wind in my hair and not a care in the world.

Dad started out with lessons in safety and responsibility (doing his parental duties), but he already had the first trip planned. He was rather cautious in telling me all the stories of him and mom riding his Yamaha 500XT back in the day. I was a lady after all and should not behave like a biker-chick. I soon became aware of the plan to visit Gamkaskloof (better known as The Hell), a place that we have visited before my motorcycle days.

The training was soon completed in record time and I was deemed fit and skillful enough to make the trip. I was certain to pack and carry my own luggage and dad was all to thankful when I offered. He had to “carry” mom after all. At this stage I was still roughing it. Dad had earned his full (very fancy looking to me) gear after all the year’s of riding and fixing bikes. Mom was precious cargo, so she too had sufficient padding and protection in all the right places. Me, on the other hand, had to earn my gear first, so I borrowed a very sweaty, two sizes too big, pair of pants from a friend of my dad who, at the time, was a hardcore KTM Enduro rider. Protection wasn’t left behind as I managed to get some kneepads and chest-protector as well.

So there I was, all geared-up on my Yamaha 250XT and mom and dad on his BMW 1200GS. Until this day, I still think my dad wished he had the Yamaha that looked all tough and ready for the job (everyone loves a Yamaha). I swung my leg over the red seat, kick-started it to life and with a push off a button on the GS, dad led the way, determining the cruising speed for them and the top speed for me.

We were off and I could not stop smiling in my helmet. I was soon riding like an old Dakar competitor, at least that is how it felt, dreaming of a night under the stars, just me and my bike (and the parents). What was supposed to be a nerve-wrecking trip that, at times, scared some experienced riders, turned out to be one of the most exciting rides I have ever had to date. I was having the time of my life. The passion of adventure riding was ignited and nothing else mattered. A trip that usually requires careful planning, was turned into an impromptu family-gathering.

Dad was stopping at regular intervals to have a smoke. In hindsight, I’m still not sure if it really were smoke-breaks or if they were concerned breaks to check if I am still okay. Of course I was okay, I have adrenaline running through my veins and I have been trained like a soldier. Nothing was going to stop me.

That night around the fire, after all the adrenaline has subsided, I realized what I have accomplished. It is sometimes good to not know what you are doing at the moment. My dad always does thorough research, but I was glad that he did not tell me everything about Gamkaskloof and what the conditions were like to get there. I went with an open mind and turned The Hell into Heaven.

That night, I fell asleep with peace in my heart and great excitement. I could share another part of motorsport with my dear dad, but a new door opened. Another world to explore. I was happy to eat dust for a few hours, if it meant that I would feel like I am on top of the world.

Below is the route we took from George via Montagu Pass, Paarde Poort to Oudtshoorn and on to Swartberg Pass and turning of to Gamkaskloof.

Be safe and enjoy the ride!

oOo

Loving motorcycles?

Read more about the classic motorcycle collection in Knysna at Full Throttle

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 We set off in George at a leisurely pace with clear blue skies, travel over the Outeniqua Pass via Oudtshoorn and aim for Prince Albert on the other side of the Swartberg Mountains.   The road is quiet.  I think the people are recovering from the New Year’s parties …

Once over the Outeniqua Pass the temperature rises to 31 degrees Celsius in the Klein Karoo.  It has been quite a while since I last traveled the iconic Swartberg pass, a gravel road, on the R328 but as all the previous times we were rewarded with stunning views of the mountains and yet again I am in awe of the skills of Thomas Baines – son of the famous Andrew Geddes Baines who built Bain’s Kloof Pass and many more – who constructed the road from 1881 until 1888 through the Cape fold mountains.  Today the dry-stone retaining walls are still in place and almost 120 years old.

The 120 year old stone walls

Along the road we stop for a geocache or two that are still outstanding and I have time to take some pictures of the veld flowers that are in bloom at this time of the year.   Just a reminder – keep your eyes open for snakes and scorpions when you are walking in the veld.

Before we reach The Top we see a brandwag (usually a big male baboon) keeping watch over his clan  whilst basking in the sun!  For those of you who are not familiar with baboons – close the doors and windows of your car when alighting, because they are very curious and can cause havock in your vehicle.

When we arrive at the top of the pass, which is located at  33°21′8″S 22°2′45″E , some tourists are enjoying their lunch at the viewpoint and admiring the vistas towards the Karoo.  The road is busy and you have to keep an extra special  lookout for cyclists and motor cyclists in the dusty conditions.  (This is a very popular motorbike road so please do not cut corners)!

The pass is  famous due to the spectacular geology that is exposed at its Northern end as you descend down to Prince Albert to the valley floor. The contortions in the rock display astonishing anticlines and synclines, and the vivid red coloration of the surrounding Quartzite is remarkable.  The pass was declared a national monument in 1988.  Along the way there are relics of the old  prison, toll hut and other historical sites.  This was Thomas Baines’ last engineering masterpiece.

You will also find the turn off to Die Hel or Gamkaskloof on this road.  Do not be fooled – it is a mere 37 km, but adhere to the time given on the signboard.  It WILL take you (+-) two hours of slow travel on the narrow and winding road!  Today however we will not take the turn off as we have visited Gamkaskloof before and are aiming for Prince Albert.

Prince Albert is buzzing over lunchtime and after passing the beautiful Dutch Reformed Church in the Main Street  our choice falls on a succulent burger and German bokwurst on the stoep of the famous Swartberg Hotel.

In the late 19^th century South Africa had more than 2000 mills, some of which dated back to the time of the first European settlers. Today only a few hundred of these mills survive, and of these, only a handful have been described or recorded in any detail.  On our way back we stop at the historic water mill, at the Southern edge of the town, to take some pictures. The mill was built by HJ Botes and was taken over by NAA Alberts and remained in his family for three generations. The mill was declared a national monument in 1963.

I will keep you posted on some more exciting travels in 2015, but this is my story and my smiley to start an exiting new year!

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