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Extreme Quading in South Africa by Les Leonard.

 Day1 and 2,  Start: Seattle WA. N 47 53.058 W121 50.550,  55degrees F, End: S 25 56.004 E028 04 470 5000 ft, 85 degrees F

After more than six months of planning, I am finally on an airplane to Johannesburg to go ATV touring in South Africa and Mozambique.  First of course, I must endure the modern inconveniences of air travel:  more than an hour in line to check bags, the inevitable setting off of the metal detector and subsequent body search. After a five hour flight to JFK, and the interminable wait to board the plane, I am on a 747-400, bound for Johannesburg to meet up with Johann and Andrew and investigate four separate ATV Eco-touring areas: The Transkei Wild Coast, The Natal Highlands, the Limpopo river and Mozambique. Needless to say, I am very excited to discover what the Dark Continent has to offer in the way of outstanding quad adventuring.

            The 14 hour flight to JHB on South African airline is the usual study in contrasts: The coach seats are tiny, there is zero leg room, yet the service is outstanding, what we used to get in the US 20 years ago. Shortly after takeoff, I am given a little gift bag containing sock-slippers, an eyeshade and a tiny two part toothbrush. There is a display on the overhead tv screen that says we have 7982 miles to fly and that we are at 29000 ft, with a groundspeed that varies between 580 and 610 mph. This is updated in real time and cycles between a map view that shows the route diagonally down the Atlantic and brushing the western bulge of Africa before crossing Namibia and arriving at JHB.

            There is a seat back entertainment system that almost makes up for the lack of leg room. A six inch LCD screen has a wired remote control (built into the left side armrest) that allows you to cycle through many movies and games. I end up watching most of four feature films on the flight.  Of course my normal luck surfaces and only one side of the headphones work. A replacement set is no better. By holding the plug pushed to one side I can get stereo occasionally until someone bumps my elbow. With 14 hours in the air, you have time to watch several movies. They hand out a printed menu for dinner in Coach! (how long has it been since you had a printed menu in coach?) I choose the salmon which turns out to be very good.  The aircrew turns the lights down after dinner so that the lucky people who can sleep on planes, can do so. I get up frequently to stretch my very cramped legs and to snatch another glass of water or juice from the galley.

            South Africa is six times zones ahead of EST, so we are scheduled to arrive in JHB about 2:04pm. About noon SA time they turn the lights on and feed us a very nice hot breakfast. They hand out a customs form which asks the standard questions, flight #, home address, passport #, There is a small section where you are suppose to list any items that you are bringing in for resale. This is a very easy form to complete. Easy is good because at this point as I have been awake for 22 hours. I am excited because the form is proof that I am soon to be in SA and getting ready to ride!

            There is the usual rush off the plane to get to customs. One hitch, there are two customs areas and you have to go to the one that supports your terminal. Eventually we figure out that we came from terminal 2 and get in line at the correct passport control.

I hand my passport and customs form to the agent and he only wants my passport. He asks me no questions, not how long I am staying, the purpose of my visit, nothing! He stamps an official temporary residence visa in my passport and I am off to customs. I get in the green “nothing to declare” line and hand my form to the customs agent. She makes me sign the form (duh!) and I am off.

            There is a crush of porters outside the customs exit offering to help me do everything. I decline, and (my tour guide) Johann finds me quickly. This is the first time we have met in person and he is much taller than I expected. I tell him so and he admits that I am shorter that he imagined. (for the record I am 6ft, but he is maybe 6’3” or 4). We trundle my overflowing cart of luggage to the parking garage and out to his nice late model pickup truck. We put my bags in the back and I of course go to the right hand (driver’s) side because that would be the passenger side in the states. We have a laugh and I get in on the left. It feels really weird because the steering wheel is missing and the mirrors are all adjusted wrong. He exits the garage and we start driving down the local freeway on the left side. The concept is completely reversed, since the slower lane is all the way to the left and the passing lines farther to the right. I am glad I don’t have to drive. At this point I have been awake for 24 hours excluding a short nap I got on the flight from Seattle to JFK.

            It takes Johann maybe 40 minutes to drive north of JHB to his home where I will stay the night. My sense of direction is completely turned around and North seems South to me. (I wonder if this is because I am in the Southern Hemisphere?) Johann has a nice stone walled home on two fenced acres. Several neighbors have horses and two houses over there are ostriches in the back yard. One house next door had a thatched roof. It is something you don’t see in the states.

            As they prepare an elaborate BBQ dinner for Andrew’s family and me, I get out my laptop and show them pictures from my tours in the states. They especially like the picture of the Oregon Dunes riding.

            Johann’s wife says her name is "Ziggy" (Sieglinde). I mention that we have a comics strip about a hapless apartment dweller with a dog by that name in the States. She chuckles and says she hopes the guy’s name is Ziggy and not the dog. The have a darling house. The walls are thick building stone with a kind of stucco finish on both the out and inside. The floors are covered with tile or carpet. The guest bath is completely tiled and the shower stall, clear glass. The finish’s are very different but comfortable. I get a shower while they work on dinner. After a while Andrew and his wife and three kids arrive. There is a 10yo girl, a 7yo and a younger boy. They are adorable, but I am too tired to learn their names. Both little girls are ticklish however.

            We have a beer while Andrew works on the barby. He is grilling sheep, sausage and t-bones. The meat is marinated and smells wonderful. I check in with Ann in the states (they are 9 hours earlier in Seattle and I wake her. We tell each other how much we miss each other and she sniffles a bit. My cell is not working, so I borrow Johann’s for the call. I keep it short because I don’t know what it costs him to call the states.

            After a wonderful dinner with Johann, Ziggy, Andrew and Tracy and their three kids, I am ready for the rack. Tomorrow we drive to the Transkei Wild Coast for the start of a whirlwind tour of some of the best riding areas Southern Africa has to offer.

 Day 3  Johannesburg S 25 56.004 E028 04 470 5000 ft, 85 degrees F

            I snap wide awake at 0300. Jet lag is an undesired addition to a world-class Quad trip. I know there is no way I will go back to sleep, so I get up and write for an hour and a half. At 0430 the house starts to stir and we get ready for the long drive to Mazeppa Bay resort. We have about 700 miles to drive today. As we drive South on N1, the main freeway running from Cape town to JHB and points north, a dramatic sunrise unfolds on the left. I have put a new set of batteries in the Garmin GPS 12XL, and leave the display on miles and feet since the Mitsubishi truck we are driving records KM. The terrain reminds me of a drive though the basin and range country of the Western US—few trees, rocky ledges on the rolling hills and scrub brush as the major vegetation. We make good time as the traffic is light and the freeway is an excellent road. One major difference in SA is when you come up behind a slower vehicle, they pull to the left on the shoulder and let you by! Imagine if US drivers were that cooperative. A courteous hoot of the horn or flashing the hazards is a thank you.  200 miles into the journey we turn towards the Wild Coast at Bloemfontein. Johann mentions that many of the towns along the route we are traveling are named for the first Voortrekkers that settled the region. We stop for fuel and breakfast at a cute modern gas station. It has a thatch roof and a Wimpies restaurant. The bacon at breakfast is wide thin slices of ham looking meat. French Fries accompany my eggs and tiny pancake. The syrup is a golden liquid that looks a little like honey. The ketchup is very sweet, almost like McDonalds BBQ sauce. I try the ATM in the phone booth cupboard outside and am rewarded with 500 Rand.(about $80) I am always amazed that this works half way around the world. I purchase a SA road atlas to follow along as we continue south and a little east to the coast. The fields are filled with the stubble from the maize that was harvested in the fall. ( It is early spring here.) Much further south we see a Veld fire off in the distance. Johann says the fires have been bad this winter.

            After a brief stop in East London with Johann’s friend Dean Hall, where we borrow a laminated topo map of the Wild Coast, we continue onward toward the resort we are going to stay in for the next three days. After an exciting ride up the coastal highway (they pass on blind curves if the blocking vehicle will move to the left), we encounter another delay at a construction area. The local entrepreneurs are selling snacks and other items to the people in the stopped vehicles. I snap a picture of them, and they swarm up to my window, demanding that I purchase something. Johann eventually drives them off with strident Afrikaans, commenting  “what part of “No” do they not understand?”. Eventually it is our turn to go and we proceed. Instead of highway cones, the lanes under repair are chevroned with large rocks. It looks like a lot of work to place and remove the coffee can sized traffic barriers. Johann comments that the rock are effective and do not disappear.

            At Butterworth, we turn east towards the Coast. The road turns to washboard gravel. At 6:30 it gets dark and Johann flips on the driving lights. He has off-road beams relayed in with the high beam switch and we can see pretty well, except when vehicles pass going the other way and we encounter their plume of dust. An hour down the road we hear a horrible thumping sound and stop to discover a shredded left tire on the trailer. I am comforted to confirm that my usual luck on ATV trips is holding! Johann comments that this is the first trailer tire that he has changed in many years of ATV touring. At least he is having new experiences riding with me.

            At 8:30 we arrive at the lodge where we meet up with Peter Kruger, who will be our permitted guide on the Wild Coast. SA has restricted all vehicles from the beaches in SA and only guides with permits are allowed to conduct tours on the jeep roads and trails in the Wild Coast. He thoughtfully has had the kitchen hold dinner for us. As I consume the wonderful fish in a dramatic four story thatched roof dining roof, Johann and Peter discuss the riding plans for the next two days. Johann insists they need to show me as much of the Wild Coast as they can so I can describe it for the tour groups that are to follow. The riding they describe sounds awesome. We retire to a new two story condo that is to be our base for the next three nights, organize our luggage and return to the bar for a nightcap. I excuse myself at 2130 and retire.

Day 4 Mazeppa Bay S32 28.629 E028 39.095 Altitude 29 ft. 75 degrees F, Clear then overcast. The Sledge tracks North of Mazeppa Bay Resort

             I snap awake at 0430 today, not too bad, at least I have an extra hour’s sleep longer than last night’s. I write for hour and then go take a walk on the beach. At one end of the small resort beach, there is a hanging bridge to a rock island that juts out into the Indian Ocean about 500 yards. There is a really good bounce on the bridge as I cross it. Since the tide surrounds the entrance to the bridge, I think that there is no way an American Insurance company would allow one of these at an American resort. I am glad I am visiting a country where no idiot proofing is required. After a delightful breakfast we gear up and prepare to go riding. I hook up all the equipment and connections that the helmet camera requires, add on a still camera bag and a drink bladder. I look like a refugee from an electronics store. We putt out of the resort (( yes you can ride on the gravel road out of the resort!) and we are off to explore the old sledge tracks of  the Wild Coast, We quickly turn off the gravel road onto a faint trace of double track off through the green grass hills above the beaches. There are few trees, even fewer fences ( the locals fence the cattle out of their yards) and you can see the ocean about 2 km ahead. We ride down the non existent road to a beach overlook. Our local guide, Peter Kruger, explains that the three small hills behind us are mounts of shells from shell fish that the people (Strandlopers, loosely translated meaning beach walkers), who lived in SA before the cattle herders, had created the mounds. He said the mounds were thousands of years old. We take some stills and video and mount up. Next Peter leads us back up to the top of the bluffs above the beach, then we jump on to a trail that goes straight down to the river (The Gorge). It is a real tire-slider, 60-70 degree slope and about 3 km long. We slide down to the river crossing and splash across. Peter explains that the spring rains have not yet raised the river. He points out the snorkel on his lead Mitsubishi 4x4. I am glad the water is not that deep. Johann chimes in that he has used a pair of bladders connected by sail cloth to float quads across these rivers. I decide to let someone else go first if we have to do that.

            After the river crossing, we head straight up the canyon wall on the other side. The locals take the direct path to the river, no switch backs for them. Peter goes around one bad section and points me up the bad section. It is a series of rock ledges about 14 inches high with large boulders strewn about. I point the Prairie straight uphill like I would my Raptor at home and gun it. Three bumps in the seat comes off! I stop precariously balanced on a couple of ledges and try to reattach the seat. We get it secured and I remount and add power. Three more ledges, I get sideways and down the hill we go. I keep the Prairie on the end of my outstretched legs while Johann wrestles it down. I brush my self off , thank the stars I wore body armor today and off we go again. This was the template for the rest of the day. We scoot off across the fields dodging cattle, goats and small children (each of whom wants a lift or sweets), then slide down a ridge to the river bottom, execute a crossing, and wind up the other side. The difficult sections are usually round boulders 1-3 ft high that you have to bounce across or wind around. The lead truck is slow through these sections, so we let him crawl ahead and then sprint up to him. (SA requires a lead 4x4 for these tours. We are working to change this to a quad.) Except in the boulder sections, the 4x4 pickup sets a comfortable pace. About mid morning we arrive at KOBB INN HOTEL another beach front resort that later tours will stop at. We have a cold drink (non alcoholic), tour the well decorated bar, and read about shipwrecks. Peter informs us that we will be at a wreck by lunch.

Then it is back to the nearly invisible trails. Just past lunch time, we exit to the beach, park just shy of it ( SA allows no beach driving) and set out lunch. I walk down to the rocks and discover a bed of 1in shells. I pick out a few pretty ones and wrap them in the wrapper from my hot dog (no bun) and pack them in my camera bag for the trip out. I hope they make it. Peter informs me that on a the full Transeki tour that he BBQ's a lunch for the crew. Since we are trying to see the highlights of 13 days worth of trails in just 2 days, we must bag lunch it.

            After lunch we then reverse course and ride the 30km back to the first river crossing. I wonder in amazement how Peter can remember the turns. There are no land marks, just the same round brick huts with thatch roofs. We take turn after turn with just the occasional area I recognize to confirm to me that we are on course. The land is stunningly panoramic. The tops of the benches are wide rolling grass fields. The we slide down the side of a canyon dodging microwave sized boulders. It is incredible to consider that these trails were created by sledges hauling water up to the huts at the top. In the bottom of each canyon there is a water crossing, normally on a bench of fairly flat square edged bedrock. The square edges make for some challenging transitions with wet tires.

 After a couple of hours we make it back to the first river crossing. We then turn off for a loop through the pine forests. As Peter is signing us into the forest, my low gas light starts blinking. Johann digs out a 10 liter can and rather than dig out our funnel, we borrow a siphon hose from the maintenance worker. 10 liters fills me to ¾ and off we go. Peter stops several times in the forest to point out the various trees. After the third stop, I tell him my low beer light is on. He gets the point and leads us the 10km or so back to the resort. We were gone from 0900 to 1630 and have covered 119 km. They warn me tomorrow will be tougher. I am loving this, twelve more riding days to go. I don’t even want to count them.

            I borrow some Ice from the bartender and go shower and change and treat my ground contact point. Why can’t I ever land on my well padded tush? It is always a bony hip. I can’t hardly wait for tomorrow to start. As I sit in my room waiting for dinner time, I can hear the surf gently roaring through the thatched roof of my room. I can’t image a better day’s riding and matching accommodations. Johann has really laid out the start of a wonderful tour. I was apprehensive about riding behind a 4x4 because I always see them crawling along or stopped on the difficult sections. Peter showed me that an expert driver can set a great pace for quads.

Day 5 Mazzeppa Bay S32 28.629 E028 39.095 Altitude 29 ft. Clear then overcast. 85 degrees. The Trails South of Mazeppa Bay.

            0330 comes and my body snaps wide awake again. I wonder how many days I can go on 6 hours of sleep a night? Who cares, I am in Africa riding some great trails and seeing stuff I didn’t dream existed. I decide to do a little maintenance on the camera gear and read a magazine until Yohann gets up. Eventually 0700 comes and we wander down to the quads for the morning checkup. I inspect my Prairie carefully and notice that I bent the front rack down a inch on the left and there is a new ½ dent in the right front rim. I wonder how much of my $500 damage deposit these are going to cost me? The first day and I am beating up the quad. Well, why should my riding luck be any different in Africa?

            After a hearty breakfast (there is a cereal bar and made to order bacon and eggs. The juice pitchers are on the cereal bar. I discover a fondness for mango juice. We prepare to do battles with the trails south of Mazeppa Bay. Since I am trying to see the highlights of a 13 day tour, Peter has based us in the middle and we are doing loops north and south. He explains that normally we would start at the southern end of the Wild Coast from the Sea Gulls resort and loop our selves north, basing the next few days at Mazeppa bay and then Cob Inn. Then the tour reverses south using mostly new trails and terminates at the Sea Gulls resort. I wish I could do the full tour now. I vow to return and do the full tour.

            Peter leads us to a challenging water crossing and hill climb. After the first 20 or so, these are becoming routine. After we complete the hill climb he tells us this is the climb that separates his 4x4 clients from the true drivers and the posers. I am glad I am not trying to follow this man in a 4x4. His offroad skills are massive, no doubt from years of nearly day by day offroading. We are winding our way between fenced fields today. There is more agriculture in the area we are riding. We continue to share the hillclimbs with the odd group of cattle and their attendant children. After a couple of breathtaking and picturesque trailing, we stop at the edge of a 300 ft cliff overlooking a farm area. Way below us is a group of farmers plowing a field with a brace of oxen. I wonder if they use a steel plowblade. Colorful raptors circle in the wind  below us. Taking this tour was one of the best riding decisions I have ever made. I wonder how I can get the word out the America riding public how fantastic a tour this is.

 Peter leads us more toward the coast. We come to a surprise wetlands. Peter races through the mud so as to not sink his 4x4. We take a more leisurely pass through the mud. In wetter weather, this would be a formidable obstacle. We continue on to the coast. After some delightfully sandy trails through increasing brush and then actual tropical forest, we arrive at the coast and stop for lunch at the wreak of the Jacaranda. This is a medium sized freighter that looks like it tried to run straight onto the beach. Yohann tells me the local legend that the captain was entertain a local business woman in his cabin and detailed the cook to steer. Peter claims it was an insurance scam. I like Yohann’s version better. After a nice bag lunch, we donate the uneaten portions the local boys who are sharpening axes in the creek using the black titanium sand. They have a contract to cut the non-indigenous brush. Of course it is done by hand here.

 Then we jump back in the forest and continue south. After an hour or so ( how can these wonderful trails start to seem routine?) we come to the SeaGulls resort, where the tours normally originate. It is a stunningly picturesque resort with the obligatory thatched roof. All the walls are robin-egg blue.  I can see wanting to spend some time here. Will we are in the bar having a coke, the mayor  come in to order lunch. Peter make a plea for his  help is getting beach access for the tours. The mayor asks him to prepare a fact sheet so he will know the issue. Now this is a familiar scene. I guess we all have to deal with politicians if we want to support the sport. I hope that Peter follows through. A romp in the sand would be a welcome variation to these fantastic riding.

Peter leads us further south. Eventually we arrive a a wide river, the Kei where there is a local ferry. Peter discovers that he has broken the sidewall of his right front tire, so we change it. A local man approachs and asks me a question about the Bakkie. Went I say I don’t understand, Yohann chimes in that a Bakkie is a pickup truck. The local man says why don’t I understand, we both speak English. I try to explain that they use different words in SA than America. I don’t think he believed me. Oh well, I should be used to looking stupid by now. After the tire change, Peter remarks that he is going to have to carry both his spares on our ATV tours. I agree, this man is driving at Baja 1000 pace through very rugged country. I can’t believe that he hasn’t ruined at least three tires by now. I can’t get over how easily he maneuvers that manual transmission pickup though this terrain.

Next we end up at a ledge above a narrow gorge filled with water. Peter tells me that many years ago a shaman convinced his tribe to commit suiside in this gorge. They tell me that a local man has a boat tour in this gorge. It is part of the regular tour. I would like to have taken that boat ride. We are at 85km now of very challenging riding. Off we go to continue to an overlook above a large waterfall. There is only a trickle of water now. I can’t imagine how much more challenging these trails are when wet.  It is four pm now and I announce that my low beer light is on. Peter chuckles and says we will skip the 60km of trails back to Mazzeppa bay. I am both elated and depressed. I am ready to call it a day, and yet the allure of those trails is strong. I must return and do the full tour.

We jump onto the main gravel roads for the run back to the resort. An hour later, within sight of the hotel, I run out of gas. I flash my head light and eventually Peter returns with the spare can. It is less than 1km to the hotel. My odo says we did 155km (100 miles) today. No wonder I am tired.  We retire to the bar and watch the helmet camera footage of the morning rides. I have been having problems with the power connection to the camera and there are long black segments where the camera lost power. We will have to work on that connection before the next filming session. The bottom line, the Transkei Wild Coast rocks. I wonder if Yohann can top this. Next: onto the Transvaal.

             Day 6 Mazzeppa Bay S32 28.629 E028 39.095 Altitude 29 ft. Clear then overcast. 80 degrees. The drive to the Transvald.

             0300 and I spring awake again. I can’t believe I am surviving on this little sleep. It must be due to the fact that I am having the time of my life. At least it gives me time to get my writing done. I pack up all my gear and start to carry it down to the truck. On of the local condo owners sees me and grabs my gearbag. When we get down to the bakkie (pickup) he asks if I have a body in the bag. I agree that I have two, but they are small. I give our guide Peter a Washington Huskies ball cap and t-shirt. He is delighted as he “collects peaks for his pub at home”. I love the new words I am collecting. You don’t plan something, you organize it. I need to organize getting my laundry from the hotel laundry. After another wonderful breakfast, (I try the local hot cereal, Matabella a kind of gritty brown version of cream of wheat) we head up the Coast Highway N2 toward Idutaya. There is a lot of road construction and we are delayed at several “Stop and Go’s”. At one especially long wait for our turn to proceed, there is a young entrepreneur selling cans of coke. Yohann asks if they are cold. He says yes and we buy them. They are not cold, the outside is, like someone dunked them in an ice chest briefly. We drink them anyway and consider the logistics of selling cokes on a remote stretch of freeway in the heat. He is only asking about 30% above the convenience store price.

            We have a long drive today, and we are meeting Andrew and Tracy at a freeway exit where we will transfer me and the quads to their bakkie for the remainer of the drive to the Natal Midlands. Yohann has to return to his office for a couple of days, so they are escorting me on my ride in the Natal Midlands. As we drive north, the vegetation gets more and more tropical. There is one local massive tree the Jackraunda which is in massive purple blume. The vegetation sure is pretty in this country.

            Well after dark we arrive at Mjonjaneni Lodge. It is a massive brick and thatched roof affair with bungalos containing two rooms each. It is operated by an engeretic slender Dutchman, Nico Harris. He has three zebras in a pen next to the parking lot. My first Zebras outside a zoo. In the bar, we fire up the laptop and look at the pictures from the Wild Coast. Tomorrow Nico Jr. will be leading us on a tour of their 15,000 acre farm and the surrounding forests.

             Day 7 Mjonjaneni Lodge. S28 28.167 E103 20.394. 3574 ft. Foggy then  Clearing then misty. 85 degrees. The Monkeys in the mist.

             I sleep through the night for the first time. After a quick breakfast, we unload the quads and gear up for a tour of the area. Nico Jr arrives on his race raptor. It is black with the radiator grill from the purple model. He wears a helmet and boots but just a t shirt to ride. I assume we wont be going through any thorns. Wrong. He leads us down the tar road (pavement for a km then jumps onto a trail through the edge of their fields. After a couple of km, he turns into the woods. The access trails are rough and overgrown. Every couple of km he slides us down a side hill on trails they have created to practice racing on. One memorable trail has a 90 degree turn at the bottom of a good slide. You must hit the cut notch straight and turn sharply at the bottom. I want a picture, so he rides around and comes down again. This young man has GNCC potential. The trails are hard packed dirt and there is a fair amount of dust. Nico explains that the rains are late this spring. After 10km of fields and forest trails, he leads us out onto an untracked cow pasture. We go out through the thorn bushes and down the hillsides, brushing through 2 ft tall grass and the occasional coffee can sized boulder. The downhill steepens and come to a small dry stream crossing. The entrance is a 5ft straight drop into the stream bead. Nico gets off and we manhandle the quads into the streambed. The exit is a 3ft bank with a couple of rocks stacked at the bottom to bump the front wheels up the hill. Nico take a couple of runs with his raptor to exit. I am proud that when it is my turn,  I grab the lockers and exit in one smooth motion. Boy the Prairie is the right machine for this maneuver. Andrew rides Tracy’s raptor out Superman style with one boot on the grab bar. He claims that that pushes his weight forward and facilitates an easy bail if needed. We climb straight up the ridge in front of us, it is a steep climb and I keep the Prairie in 4wd. The raptors bounce around a bit as they attack the slope. At the top Nico  tells us that they only discovered that route two months ago and we are only the second group that has ridden it. I believe him, there are no tracks to be seen, just grass. We go through a gate and ride some fast fire trails down into the “low Velt” There are water bars every 100 meters and I even get some air with the Prairie. It is pure pleasure to watch Tracy loft over the waterbars on her Raptor. She has some tractor lug style tire mounted and I have to watch out for her roost. About 1000 we arrive at the place they normally provide groups with a bbq lunch. I now know I am on the accelerated tour pace again.

            We take a water break and then reverse course up the fire road. Even though I hang back behind Tracy, she roosts me about every third water bar. The jumps and powerslides up the fire trail is pure bliss. At the gate at the top we turn right onto a solid sandstone road. It is steeply intimidating but there is no loose rock, just 8 to 12 inch steps. We crawl up this “road” for a km and drop back onto an access road. Nico jr leads us back toward the cane fields where he cuts us some sugar can to snack on. You are suppose to peel the outside with a knife and chew the interior until all the juice is gone. I save mine for later.

Several km of farm road later, Nico points out some small back dots in the distance. He says they are baboons foraging in the cane fields. I wish I had my binos with us. What is one more pound with all the gear I already carry. As we skirt the edge of one cane field, monkeys charge across the trails and flee in the trees. Nico says they normally shoot the monkeys, so I understand why they didn’t stay so I could get a picture. The cane fields and forests (planted in straight rows 2 meters apart) are one steep rolling hills. Nico leads us straight down each hill and straight up the next. The occasional bump out on the uphills are challenging. Several km later, the shifter breaks on Tracy’s Raptor. It is stuck in second gear. Nico lead on, sticking to the dozer trails through the forests. We arrive back at  the lodge at 1230, having covered about 49km. The variety of surfaces and vistas on this plantation are staggering. I wish I had more than one day to see it. I vow to try and return someday.

            After lunch, Nico Senior joins us for the ride. He also races a raptor. He also has a different color radiator grill. It must be a family thing. He rides chase and Nico jr leads again. We head out toward the ridges overlooking the river valley where the lunch ring is located. This time we bound down a very steep scree covered pale pink sandstone access road to a vista. At this point we can see the National game reserve that borders Nico’s property and a long river valley with steep sides and mesa tops. There is a haze, and Nico is disappointed with the view. He says it is normally much better. The ride back up the solid sandstone is challenging. Again I bless the 4wd of the Prairie. Andrew is riding a borrowed Blaster since the Raptor transmission locked up. He does the superman thing again going up. At the farm pond, Nico jr head for home with his girl friend and Nico senior leads us out into one of the four farms he and his brothers manage. He stops at a grove of planted Wattle trees. He explains they sell the bark and then the tree for pulp. They grow and are harvested in 8 years. As we go deeper into the care fields and forest sections, Nico uses similar trails to the morning trip. A find mist descends, wetting our goggle enough so the dust sticks. We resort to cleaning our goggles every 100 yard or going without. You can’t see well under either condition. The mist thickens and it get harder to see. Eventually I am follow the two glowing dots on Nico’s raptor and praying I will not launch off something I cant see. When we finally get back to the lodge, we are layered with  multiple coats of fine wet dust. This was another 45km on the odometer. I had enjoyed another outstanding day on the trails of Mtonjaneni lodge.

             Day 8  Foggy then Misty then Clear. 0700 85˚ F . The Drive to Peter Tichart (Starting point for the Mozambique tour.)

I sleep until 5:00 am this morning. The jet lag must be easing. We have a nice breakfast in the main dining room, and then make a quick raid on the wonderful gift shop that the owner’s wife runs in an adjacent building. I pick out a colorful table runner with African animals on it. I hope Ann will like it. I make a mental note to pick up some souvenirs, I have been having so much fun riding that I haven’t made time for anything else. We have a long drive planned for the day, we must drive north almost to the border to Anthony’s house. Ant is the owner of Extreme Biking, the company that will conduct the trans-Mosambique tour. We leave the lodge in pea-soup fog. We crawl down some mountain pass roads that may be less frightening in the fog.  I learn several interesting language variations on this journey; a “dam” is a reservoir, and the “dam wall” is what we call the dam. Traffic lights are “robots” as in “go to the second robot and turn left”. The stuff you leave in the fridge “went off” instead of spoiling. I do not get tired of Tracy’s vaguely British accent.

            We drive through miles of fenced game preserves and medium sized mountains (think Tennessee without most of the trees). At one point we transit a large agricultural area where there are square miles of grape vines under white cloth sun shades. As we drive by miles and miles of these tented vineyards, I wonder why anyone would grow grapes somewhere they need a sunscreen. The three of us have a great time discussing SA, America and life in general. Andrew and Tracy are fun people. They have both been to a couple of places in Europe and Tracy spent some time in LA. They spend some of their time on the cell phone tracking down a repair kit for the transmission on their 01 Raptor, and a shop to install it. It is after dark (This close to the Equator, sunset is at 6:35 and dark is 7:00p) when we arrive at Ant’s house. He and Donna have unexpected house guests from Zimbabwe, so we end up having a very late supper. I end up billeted in a very nice mother-in-law suite. We spend some of the evening looking at the still pictures from the Transkei and Mtonjaneni on my laptop.

 Day 9. Ant’s house in Louis Trichart. S23 01.446 E029 54.370 The Start of the Trans-Mozambique Tour.

 I snap awake at 0400 today. So much for recovery from jet lag. At least that give me plenty of time to repack all my stuff and put everything I will need in Mozambique into my large gear bag. I had my riding gear laundered at Mtonjaneni so I have clean gear to start the trip. The rest of the house starts stirring at 5:15 or so (seems most SA are early risers) I do like the custom of a pot of tea early each morning. I may have to import that tradition.

Ant drives down to the shop and brings the support truck back to his house for loading. Donna tells him and his two helpers exactly where to put everything. I don’t see how it would have been loaded with out her extensive guidance.<grin> While the truck is being loaded Andrew and I service the air cleaner on the Prairie. It is amazing how much dirt I brought from the Transkei and Mjonjaneni. Yohann loads my quad on the trailer and I get a blackmail shot of him riding in shorts, sandals and no helmet. This I can add to my “don’t do this” picture collage. Eventually the truck is loaded and we set off for the Border crossing, on the far side of Kruger National Park. As we climb toward the park, we go through banana plantations, macadamia nut orchards and orange groves. This is another first for me. Sugar cane and now bananas. I guess I really am in the tropics. Over the considerable roar of the off-road truck, Ant explains this area is known as Levubu. I nod off to the roar of the truck. By 11:00am we are at the Punda Maria gate of Kruger. Ant spends 30 minutes arranging our transit of the National Park. Little do I know this is a hint at border crossings to come. We are less than 3 miles inside Kruger when we see two bull elephants alongside the road. One shakes his ears at us. I am glad I am inside a 10ton truck. I hope I don’t have to face one down from the saddle of my ATV! We spend an hour transiting the landscape from the Disney movie “The Lion King” I swear I see the exact rock outcrop from the movie. We roll up to the SA side of the border crossing. Five of the seven South African riders that are the rest of the trans-Mozambique tour are waiting their for us. While Ant deals with the border crossing paperwork (to leave SA) we load their gear into the support truck. They load an amazing number of beer cases. Apparently they are going to float to Vilancoulos and back. After a long wait, Ant returns with the paperwork to get us out of South Africa. We all gear up and ride the 20yards to the Mozambique side of the crossing. Ant gathers up more paperwork and we all troop into the border control station. Even though we all have visas stamped in our passports, we have to fill out more paperwork. The form is in Portuguese so I cheat off the other guys paperwork. I hope I haven’t accidentally enlisted in their Army! As we had been warned, there is a “problem” with our paperwork. We all troop outside while Ant solves it. We are immediately approached by money changers. They offer us 3000 local “Meticas” to the Rand. Since I got 7 Rand for each US dollar, the exchange rate is 21,000 to the dollar. I choose not to change any money which turns out ok as everywhere I want to spend money accepts Rand's without problem.

            We are Seven: Bok on a Kawa 200 dirtbike, Allen on a Warrior, Nick on a Z400, Dennis on a Grizzly, Mark on a Honda TRX300ex and me (Les) on a Prairie. We will be joined tomorrow by Andre on a Bomb Baja 650 and Quist on a KTM 360 dirt bike.

Riding the Limpopo Flood Plain S22 27.615, E031 33.622

The goal for the afternoon of the first day is the riverbottom under the powerlines, about 40 miles ahead. We all start down the dusty dirt road. After several km I catch the guys at a rest stop and half way persuade them that we should go down to the river and ride it not this boring dirt road. They agree to backtrack to the last village and discuss it with Ant, the expedition leader (and support truck driver). We ride back to the village and Ant arrives in the support truck. He agrees that we can ride the river channel and meet him at the powerlines. We follow a footpath out of the village toward the river. We pass their gardens and voila we are in the flood channel. Bok on his dirtbike takes the lead and I discover to my disgrace that I am the slowest rider in the group. This crew flies down the sandbars and mudflats an only briefly slows for the water crossings. I console myself with the idea that they know the hazards and I don’t. We continue on splashing through the water crossings, powersliding on the sand bars and avoiding the occasional rocks. The gravel beds have a sharp entry lip that hurls you up in the air if you are not careful. I start the helmet camera and record about 15 minutes of this joyful riding. We continue South, we have 40km (27 miles) to go to reach the powerlines where we will camp tonight. An undetected lip catches me and I bounce up onto the handle bars at 40 mph. I decide to slow down a bit before I really eat the dirt. It is so bright that it is difficult to see the random edges. Doug helps me bend the handlebars back in place. I wonder what this will cost me. I guess I will be paying for a few repairs on this trip.     

            Way too soon the powerlines appear and we find the support truck waiting. We set up camp on a flat stretch of sand and the support crew starts dinner. Our arrival attracts about 50 local children. They gather in a large group and just stare at us. I quickly learn to ignore them as if we are on TV and they are the camera crews. However far we go in the bush, there will always be a native around the next bend.

Day10 S22 27.615, E031 33.622. Riding the Limpopo Flood Plain

            The next morning is a major treat. The sunrise is as brilliant as the sunset. While Bok goes back to collect the Andre and Quist from the border (they were at a wedding yesterday and couldn’t start with us) , Nick, Mark, Doug, Allen and I start a 70 km (40 mile) run down the flood channel of the Limpopo river. We fill our ATV fuel tanks to the brim from the tanks on the support truck and are off. There is less water remaining in the river here and we ride long stretches without any water crossings at all. The flood channel is 2-5 km wide (1-2.5 miles) here and we meander back and forth, enjoying the challenges of untracked flood plain. Every few km we see women and children washing clothes, tending cattle or fetching water.

            About mid morning the river channel disappears! We wind through ever-thickening brush and come to a dead end dropoff. We backtrack a few times and find other deadends at deep water or dense brush. I am glad I am with an experienced crew of African riders. They say they enjoy this kind of pathfinding. They set off cross country, busting through the considerable brush with the Grizzly in the lead. I get out the helmet camera to record the brushbusting, but a few hundred yards into filming the brush disappears and we are back in the flood plain. It reappears as mysteriously as it disappeared. There was at least a mile of solid brush that we have crossed.

            While we are stopped having a drink under a large tree in mid channel, we hear the others coming down river. They race by us about 500 yards away. They are really pushing it and the Baja bounces way into the air on the rough stuff. The river channel here has an obstacle I have not encountered before: there are a pebbly set of depressions and humps in large fields that throw both sides of the quad in difference directions at the same time. It looks like someone has dug pits on a checkboard and humped the dirt on the other squares. The SA ride these the same way they do everything else: flat out. I fall behind, tiring from the effort of fighting them. Just as I am about to loose visual contact with the rest of the riders, we come to the river crossing. The support truck comes out of the brush on the right bank. They tell us they have been having a cold one at the local pub. Driving the support truck must be a tough job! We all gas up under a large thorn-studded tree on the left bank. We are surrounded by dozens of curious locals so we decide to delay lunch to a more remote location.

The climb out the flood plain is another treat. It is a trace road up a ridge. It consists of gravelly sections and majorly eroded dirt sections. After we reach the top the road changes to sand with a series of deep dips and sharp ridges between. This road is a dune-riders heaven. I don’t want it to end.  The SA riders ride the entire 10km stretch of woops standing up. I don’t and do a lot of bouncing. I console myself that they are use to the heat. It is about 100 f and the sun is beating down. I suck warm water out of my camel pack and charge on. I am not going to let a little sun ruin this fantastic ride.

            At the end of the sand road we come to a little town. Some children throw rocks at us. One hits Allen in the middle of the chest and knocks the air out of him. He gives chase on his ATV but they melt into the brush. This is the only place in the 1100 miles I rode in Southern Africa where we got anything but smiles and cheers.

1300 hours, S22 39.633 E032 15.869. Lunch in the Velt

            It is officially hot! We manage to find a little shade for our lunch break, but the little bee-flies are swarming our faces for the moisture and end up as extra pepper in our sausage and egg sandwiches. I dig out my bug net and wear it. We wolf down our lunch and a few cold drinks and refuel our machines for the next section.       

            The next segment of the ride is an improved (for Africa) road. This fire trail style road has been graded as recently as 10 years ago. The heavy trucks have worn major grooves in the road in a trail that meanders back and forth. You can carry some major speed on this section, but you must watch out for the water dips. They dig the road down  2 meters and cement a U shape crossing. The only indication of this ditch are two white posts at the edges. If you come flying up to one and don’t notice it in time you take a moon shot out the far side. The dirt on this road changes from red to white and back to red on a very regular basis. Since the road has not been graded in my lifetime, the dried mudpuddles had hard edges that can send you flying. All in all, a fun road to rocket down!

1600 hours, S22 15.224 E032 54.927

We wait gas at the point where we are to leave this “road”. We are in a village square. There are exactly 4 mud brick buildings around the square. One is a “café”. I decide I will never be that hungry. The gas station is a card table with a 1 liter coke bottle filled with ancient gasoline. I am glad we have fuel on the support truck. There is only beer left in the cooler so I have a beer. I hope I don’t have too far to ride. Finally the support truck shows up and we can refuel. A short while later we are on our way down a sandy path into the untouched velt of Mozambique. In about 5 miles we find an excellent camping spot and set up camp just as the sun is setting. It is another magnificent sunset, blood red with magenta streaks. The guys tell me they are always like that. We all strip down and get a shower before it gets too dark. After riding in the heat all day I enjoy the shower. It is nice to change out of riding gear into shorts and sandals too.

Day11 S22 16.881, E032 57.130. Riding to Vilancoulos

As expected we are treated to another brilliant sunrise. It is still 70 at dawn. This promises to be another warm day. The birds are chirping in the trees, there is a smell of wood smoke in the air from the campfire and there are groans from the riders and they wake. I crunch leaves as I pack my gear and tent. Ant checks in with Donna via the satellite phone. After breakfast we discuss the day’s ride. Immediately in front of us is 178km (112 miles) of this wonderful sand road. Then there is a boring gravel road to the tar road into Vilancoulos. We are suppose to camp tonight just beyond Mbote a town at the other end of this sand road. We all gear up, gas up and move out. This is what the trans-Mozambique trek is all about. We sprint forward about 100 km (60 miles) and wait for the gas truck. Refuel, add water to our camel packs, put drinks in the cooler on the grizzly and repeat. The sand road is awesome. The deep sand throws you side to side. You can’t keep your wheels on the center berm. There are occasional hard sections, washouts and sharp knife ridges in the road. Since the guys ride flat out and I have to keep up, I try to stay sharp all the time. I don’t want to take a spill out here in the middle of nowhere and wait for medical assistance. There are endless miles of this incredible road.

10:30am Day 11. S22 09.956 E33 20.362 101˚F

 At the first metal bridge (there are only two on the entire length of the sand road) we are expecting a nice flowing river to cool off in. There is only stagnant water. Ant claims this is the first tour there hasn’t been a nice river to wade in. Southern Africa is in the middle of a major drought. I decide to come do this ride again in the NA spring, after the SA winter rainy season. After several gas stops (I used four full tanks of gas this day. A personal record) we come to the end of the sand road in Mbote. This is an actual town with a main street. We ride up the main street to a tavern. They have battered bottles of coke in a room temp cooler. We buy them anyway and discover a well just outside the tavern. We pull up buckets of cool water and splash them all over ourselves. This is incredibly refreshing. Since we are drawing a major crowd of onlookers, we gear up and ride outside of town a ways to wait for the truck.

            When the truck shows up we all refuel and the guys decide they want to push on to Vilancoulos 180 km (113 miles). It is a 123 km high speed run down this gravel road and then another 57 km of paved road to the beach front resort we will stay in. After drinking a bottle of PowerAide I am willing to go on. It is amazing to me how much this simple bottle of  electrolytes has reinvigorated me. I will have to remember this for long rides in the US, especially dune riding. During the high speed run down the gravel road we encounter three oncoming vehicles. This is more that the previous two days! I am proud of myself as I remember to yield left not right. Not even a moment of hesitation remains. At 1600 we stop at the pipeline crossing for a break. There is a stop sign on the road here, the first one in the 482km (301.25 miles) we have ridden in Mozambique. The “gravel” road is a challenging high speed run. The rains have eroded grooves on the sides of the road, sometimes extending almost to the center crown. The road has dried mud potholes that are a challenge at 90kph. The base dirt of this road also alternates from white to red and back. After a final refueling stop just before the tar road (paved road) we rode the final 60 km(40 miles) into Vilancoulos on the pavement. It was kind of fun to run the Prairie down the paved road. I could not get the speedo over 99kph. (Kids don’t try this at home) We arrived at the lodge on the beach well after dark. After we unpack, we load up on the quads and drive back to a restaurant called Smugglers.

Day12 S21 59.554, E035 19.435.  Vilancoulos

We take the morning off to service the quads and bikes, (since I was usually in the rear my air filter has a LOT of dirt in it). Mark takes his pipe loose on his Honda Trx300EX and discovers that the exhaust valve phalange has broken completely off. He has to go find a guy with a welder and have it welded back on. After most of the maintenance was done the guys start up with riding horror stories. Here are some of the punch lines: “ The bones make a nice sound as they break”, “I landed on a stump and pushed my femur through my hip”, “The best sound was that of my visor breaking”. I was tempted for 10 seconds to give up riding! Bok has the best all-in-one tool I have every seen. It is a Leatherman Crunch and has a set of vicegrips built in. I resolve to get one for my toolbox.

 After the bull session we ride down to the harbor and play on the sand for a while. Vilancoulos reminds me of what I imagine a Mexican border town in New Mexico might have looked like in the 1920s. There are no structures over 1 story. Most buildings have never been painted (or at least not in the last 30 years). There is a disorganized tangle of phone and powerlines along the streets. At the harbor there is an old bus sitting on the ground that a local vendor is using to display knickknacks. I look through the stuff but don’t purchase anything yet. In the late afternoon one of the guys buys a yellowfin tuna off a fisherman on the beach. We bake it over open coals as a delightful appetizer before dinner. Then we return to Smugglers for dinner. They have prawns for all of us tonight.

Day13 S21 59.554, E035 19.435.  Riding North of Vilancoulos

I awake to discover that I have been a snack bar open all night to the mosquitoes. The window nets are not enough to keep them out of my room. I ask Ant for a bed net and he helps me install it over my cot. There is a row of five bites in a straight line down the back of my left hand. I briefly admire their engineering precision. After a hearty breakfast we gear up to go exploring north of town. After a short ride through downtown (five blocks?) we are on the sand trails to headed north. At the church we turn right. This proves to be a dead end so we backtrack and go straight past the church. This lead us further out into the country. This is another of those wonderful sand roads that throws you back and forth and makes you work to go in a straight line. In a few miles we arrive at a beach. Just to the south of us back toward town is what looks like three medium dunes. I head out cross country to try to find a way up. I find a road around the back side, but can’t get near due to the thorn brush. The other riders show up just after I have turned back and they make another try into the thorn bushes. We don’t have any better luck on this trail. We all go back to the beach and have a “lecka” ride up the beach for about 10 miles. I get stuck hauling the camera woman that Ant has hired to make a short promo. She is cute and I get grief from the guys for hauling her off into the brush to show her the troop of monkeys.

 Day14 S21 59.554, E035 19.435.  Riding South of Vilancoulos

Today we turn south out of our beach front resort and start exploring the sandy tracks they call roads. After a few miles the roads end and we continue on the footpaths. It is fun to ride between the gardens of the locals. After a few miles of footpaths we come to a muddy water crossing. Mark fails to make it up the far bank and rolls back into the water. We all laugh while he spins his tires, catches some traction and launches up the back and into the air. A short distance later we are caught between two thornbush hedges. The path gets narrower and narrower. Finally we have both front tires forcibly pushing back the bushes on either side as we try to avoid being speared by the 5 in thorns. Mercifully the hedges end and the trail get wider. After an hours or so of footpaths, we pick a trail down to the beach. Here we have a five mile wide low tide beach to ride! We ride north for about 45 minutes and cover most of the distance back to town. We discover that Mark is not with us. Dennis goes to search for him on his Grizzly. They show up about 45 minutes later. Mark’s electronics box has shorted in the salt water. They do some cleaning and get him restarted.

 Day15 S21 59.554, E035 19.435.  Starting back to South Africa Border

After an early wakeup, we load up and go to the nearest gas station to fill up. It of course is out of fuel. So is the next one. The third has gas but doesn’t open until 8:00a. So much for an early start on today’s ride. After we take 600+ liters of gasoline from their pumps (the support truck was empty also) we jump back on the tar road for the hour back to fun roads. I make a note to ask the operators to scout a path through the backcountry to this point to avoid the pavement. After 10 miles it is boring and a bit dangerous.

            Next we make the high speed run back to the pipeline crossing. This fast road has just enough hazards to keep you alert. We run to just past Mbote for a fuel stop and brunch. I don’t enjoy riding on an empty stomach. I am going to recommend that they provide an opportunity for breakfast on all riding days for the subsequent tours. (They agreed) This is the point where the incredible 178km sand road starts. Now that we had transited it once, the SA group rode it even faster than before. My thumb is really sore from so many days of riding, so I break a small branch and duct tape it to the throttle. Now I can use my whole hand to press the thing. This helps a little. I fall farther and farther behind the main group. At least I am faster than the support truck! We clear the full sand road with two refueling stops. This puts us beyond the place we camped on the way to the coast. The guys want to push on some more so we ride another 50km and pull in behind an abandoned building. We make camp just as the sun sets and have our dinner in the dark. The evening sky has an unfamiliar look to it. I realize that I am not seeing the same stars as in my Northern Hemisphere night sky. I try to identify the Southern Cross but am not able to.

Day16 S21.  Back to Parfuri Border Crossing

Since we came so far yesterday, the guys decide they want to push all the way back to the border crossing and go home, one day early (the morning ride to the border crossing). There is not stopping to enjoy the view for this group of riders. We ride the less interesting defined road with the death-trap inverted bridges, back to the village where the rock-throwing kids caught us on the trip out. Then we are back onto exciting trails. The whoops and ridges are an effort for me now. I have ridden 800 miles in five days and am a bit tired. I charge on and enjoy it anyway. We wait for the fuel truck at the little pub by the river. I have an ancient Coke in a glass bottle.

 Day 17. The Drive to Popallin Game Ranch

After the extreme push to get back to the border in time to cross on the second day out of Villancoulos, I am grateful for a chance to sleep in and rest my weary hands. Yohann arrives about 10:00a to transport me to our final riding area in South Africa—the Popallin Game Ranch. After loading my very dusty Prairie onto his trailer, we head north out of Louis Trichard, toward the border of South Africa and Zimbabwe. We drive through miles and miles of game reserves. Yohann says there are here because the land was not good for much else and thus was inexpensive enough to accumulate large tracts needed for these ranches. We arrive about 4:00p and the host Jim takes us out for a barge ride on the local reservoir. We see the noses of the local hippo family, a couple of crocodiles and dozens of bird species. Jim says that he gets a fair amount of birders. Just at dusk he takes us out in the land rover to see the game. We drive a fair distance including a couple of exciting hills and then we turn a corner and are face to horn with 10 large Cape Buffalo. It is getting very dark but the nightshot on my video camera gets a fantastic picture.

Day 18 S22 21.457 E030 35.525.  Riding at Popallin.

After a wonderful night’s rest in a fantastic chalet, (there is a buffalo in my sink, carved into the outside door and onto the wardrobe) we breakfast in the main lodge and gear up for our last day’s riding. We are going to cross some of the game ranch land and then drop into the flood channel of the Limpopo river.

            The river is much rockier here. There are large outcropping randomly spaced around the river bed and some bands of rock that extend across much of the channel. There are still large stretches of sand and dried mud flats, but the fun riding today is boulder crawling. We have an exciting morning picking our way through boulders from basketball sized to garbage can sized. Since they are in the riverbed, they are rounded and somewhat smooth. It is great fun to ease the Prairie up and over the jumbled rocks. When we get tired of rock crawling, we sprint upriver on the sandy or dirt sections. It is getting hot today, so after a few hours, we sprint back to the lodge for lunch and some quiet time. Yohann and I end up watching a movie on Showtime. America culture is engulfing the world! In the late afternoon, we return to the river for some more rock crawling and then to watch the sunset from the park’s overlook. I do not have the words for dramatic colors of a African sunset. You must go see one for your self. The ride back to the lodge over darkened 4WD trails is another treat. This is the best possible wrapup to an incredible ATV trip.

 Day19.  Drive back to Jburg.

After a wonderful full breakfast in the main lodge (which has no windows or doors) I jump in the Land Rover with the manager Jim to go see the reconstructed native village. When we arrive we discover that the baboons have been pulling all the thatch from the roofs. Only one roof is untouched. Jim points out the plastic snake still attached to it.

On the drive back to Johannesburg, we stop at a monument on the Tropic of Capricorn. This is the latitude farthest south where the sun get to 90˚ overhead. Most of the time the sun sweeps through the northern sky. No wonder I am confused about compass directions. The sun is in the wrong part of the sky! 

Day 20-21 Return Home

The 23 hour flight back home is about as uncomfortable as the trip out. I did manage to change my seat to a bulkhead one so that I could stretch my legs out in front of me. However there was another large man in the middle seat, so we were touching shoulders for the entire flight. My headphones worked fine this flight, but the entertainment system would not allow us to see the movies for most of the flight time. I was tired enough to get a few naps.

            Would I do this ride again? In two heartbeats! There are challenging and enjoyable trails, fantastic scenery and good companionship to be had. You can’t ask for more than that on any great ATV trip. I am already starting a fund for my return riding trip to Southern Africa.

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Last modified: June 24, 2008