A Motorcycle tour of the Western Cape, South Africa

(Part 3)

Author: Steve and Carole Eilertsen. stevei@icon.co.za

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 We continued our motorcycle tour and headed eastwards, turning our backs on the sea. In front of us lay huge, desolate expanses and some of the finest mountain wilderness to be had anywhere.

Clanwilliam, our next stop is incredibly hot but the heat wave over the past few days of our tour had only made things really uncomfortable. A potato farmer we bumped into came into the town shocked and ready for a cold beer after he had dug up some potatoes and found they were partially cooked by the heat of the soil! The town is very pretty with its old world charm and restored buildings and reminded us a bit of Pilgrims Rest in Mpumalanga.  The lady at the tourist board was very helpful and told us all kinds of fascination information about the area. After a quick browse through the town and buying of essentials, we were eager to head for our accommodation on a rooibos tea farm about 50km outside of Clanwilliam on the Wuppertal road.

Pakhuis Pass. The road as we like it - wild and quiet. A pic like this is like balm to my soul once I am back in the city and I am sitting at my PC at work

After we had ridden over the first rise, we were amazed at the change in the landscape. Imposing mountains surrounded us, with incredible rock formations at every turn. We stopped to visit the grave of C Louis Leipold - botanist, poet, playwright, author and the so-called father of the Afrikaans language. He is most famous for being the author of the one of the national anthems of South Africa i.e. Die Stem. One of the more wordy visitors to the grave had filled in the guest book with a long list of things Leipold had done during his life. He was described as a liberal who fought for social justice, not only for blacks but for gays as well. Someone had tried to scribble over this portion of his attributes; the conservative Afrikaner not being able to accept the more ‘negative’ characteristics of their national hero. 

The grave of C Louis Leipold - the father of the Afrikaans language. Afrikaans is a derivative of Dutch from South Africa's link with Europe when the Cape was a half way station  for the Dutch East India company.

Leopard’s grave is in a natural crypt formed by imposing rocks. His close friend, a doctor in Clanwilliam had chosen the peaceful spot for him to be buried saying he would be at rest here, surrounded by all that he loved.  

The scenery could not be more beautiful as we rode over a narrow pass that dropped sharply on the one side, into a deep harvested valley. We were entering the Biedouw district. After carefully inching our way down the steep slope we finally reached the farm, Welbedacht, a Rooibos Tea farm, one of the many in this part of the world. According to their information brochure and a recent court ruling Cederberg is the only place where tea with the name ‘Rooibos’ can be grown. The farm was beautiful and our accommodation quaint – a converted schoolhouse with 2 bedrooms and a lounge, dining room and kitchen combined. 

There are two guest farms within 25km of the town of Wuppertal and this was one of them. The accommodation in Wuppertal itself is a self-catering house, which is usually booked by larger groups who are staying for a longer period, not overnighters like us. Wilbedacht is only 17km from Wuppertal, which left us an easier ride in the morning. 

The small town of Wuppertal is hidden in this deep, remote valley. The maps show a dirt road into the town from this side only but there is a 4 x 4 track out on the far side that enters the Cedarburg Wilderness area from the East.

The road to Wuppertal from Clanwilliam rates as one of the best rides in the country - even if the road surface is a bit loose and stony.

Rooibos

A local herbal tea, caffeine-free and having both healing and anti oxidant qualities

Wuppertal is situated in a deep valley 60km from Clanwilliam. Started by Rhenish missionaries it is still a Moravian church mission station that consists of approximately 400 families who live in or just outside the town. The only industry in the town is shoemaking where shoes are hand made. Wuppertal claims to be the original home of the 'veldskoen'. They also have a general store and a small café that provides basic meals. There is one petrol tank in town which may or may not have supplies. We were lucky and filled up, more for the fun of it than a need for petrol. The process is quite complicated. First we had to go down to the bottom of the village where the general dealer is situated and ask the shop assistant for petrol. Then we had to go back to the bike to wait. Eventually a young woman arrived and filled our tank. We didn't have the exact amount so we had to go back down to the general dealer to get our change. Not exactly a Total One Stop!

	The main road of the mission town, Wuppertal
	The only petrol in the town. No ATM, fast food or facilities here!

What I did find quite amazing was a poster that asked visitors to please respect the religion, norms and traditions of the community. Therefore drunkenness was not tolerated in the town . . . an accomplishment in a community of Coloured people where heavy drinking is often commonplace.

All the maps we consulted showed only one road in and out of Wuppertal i.e. from the north but once we were in the town we discovered that there is a road out. This southern road, classified as a 4 x 4 track only, climbs up the steep mountain side before dropping down into the Cederberg Wilderness area on the other side (basically the middle of nowhere!). A sign posted at the beginning of the track said the road could not be used from Monday to Friday. We assume this to mean no entry to vehicles as the locals in donkey carts were using the road.

The faint dust trail in the distance is the overland bus on its way to Calvinia

The dirt road from Wuppertal to Calvinia is long, straight and deserted. Compared to the rest of our trip we found it to be the only dirt road with a surface that could be described as easy. All the others where covered with loose sand and small stones whereas this actually had a polished surface where 80 to 100km per hour was manageable.

Biggest post-box in the world! Note the bike and the slot for posting the letters to the left. Calvinia falls under the Northern Cape and has totally different surroundings to the Western Cape. It's dryer and flatter but the town still has charm. It also boasts the largest post box in the world. I am not sure what inspired them to build it but it's quite a Kodak moment anyway. Like most of the towns in the Western Cape it boasts a well-developed infrastructure of museums, national monuments and old houses that makes tapping into the local history of the area both easy and interesting.

That night we stayed in one of these old houses in the main road. After a few hours of restless sleep Carole awoke with a start. Standing in the door way was a dark man dressed in a blue T-shirt and black shorts. Initially she did not react assuming it to be a shadow. She looked at him for a few moments longer but then he turned and walked into the adjacent kitchen! At this point she went cold and jabbed me in the ribs. I awoke with a start to the words, 'There is someone in the house!' being whispered in my ear. In the four years we have been together Carole had never done this to me. I went into survival mode. We waited with bated breaths, listening for the slightest sound. What did he want? Was he alone? Was he armed? Had he cleaned us out and was about to leave? Was he checking on us before starting to look for anything of value? All these questions raced through my mind as I lay there protecting the only advantage I had at that point - the element of surprise. The pepper sprays we carry in our riding jackets were in the far end of the large kitchen and therefore useless.

We continued to strain our ears for the slightest sound. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! After what seemed a heart thumping eternity I was forced to be proactive. I pretended to wake up. Slowly but noisily I ventured towards the kitchen hoping that the intruder would go into hiding. My senses were as taut as a violin string as I ventured slowly into the large room. Being an old house the light switch was a piece of string hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. I inched my way towards it and gave it a tug. The room was deserted. Good! I poured myself a glass of cold water - at least I now had something in my hand, which could win me vital seconds in a show down. I turned back and went into the lounge. I knew he could not be on this side of the house. I turned on the light and unlocked the front door. The cool night air rushed over me as I stepped outside. The tiny garden and the main street were deserted. Things were improving. At least one, or all of us had an available escape route. I went back into the bedroom and 'woke' Carole up and we went back into the lounge. Now I had to investigate that part of the house where Carole had seem him turn towards. The kitchen was still empty and so I slowly walked over to our riding jackets. Now armed with two pepper sprays I gave one to Carole and headed for the back of the house i.e. the other bedroom, bathroom, shower and back door. I was surprised to see that the back door was undisturbed. The tiny second bedroom was empty. Heart pounding I squinted under the bed. Nothing. Next I pulled the curtains aside. Same result. 

Now I headed for the last room and the only place I as an intruder would have hidden given the lay-out of the house i.e. behind the shower curtain at the end of the house. With the pepper spray in my sweaty palm I burst into the shower and ripped the curtain back. Nothing. I was perplexed. Going back to the front door I started the search again. Curtains, furniture and every nook and cranny were searched. By now it was becoming evident to me that the doors and all the windows were undisturbed. There was no one in the house except us! 

We returned to bed but sleep was difficult to come by and when it did it was filled with fleeting movements and pregnant shadows. Even as I sit here weeks later at my computer and recount the events of that night the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Even the sudden ringing of the telephone caused me to jump right out of my chair!

Veldskoen

A suede-type leather shoe traditionally worn in the country areas

Early the next morning we hurriedly left our 'haunted' house taking the R27 from Calvinia to Vanrhysndorp and then the N7 to Clanwilliam. The steep drop of the Vanrhysnpass offered a spectacular view of the valley below. By now we had all but lost count of the mountain passes we had travelled over during our motorcycle tour.

Back in Clanwilliam we stocked up for a two night, self-catering stay in the Cederberg mountains. Riding two-up does not leave much space for groceries and therefore we don't like to opt for 'self catering' in remote areas but it was a long weekend, which made finding accommodation difficult. We were lucky to find an available cabin in a popular hiking resort deep in the Cederberg Mountains. There are two routes to the Cederberg Wilderness Area from the town of Clanwilliam, both on windy dirt roads. One travels along the river and the other through the mountains higher up. After advise from the tourist board in Clanwilliam we chose the berg road as the river one was said to be in bad condition. 

Well, I don't know how much worse the river road could be, but the berg one was quite a challenge in places. Leaving Clanwilliam, we started along a rutted dirt road that had thick loose sand in places and loose stones everywhere else. The motorbike was packed quite heavily at the back. As a result the front wheel had very little traction to offer, especially when powering the bike up some of the steeper sections. Both Carole and I had to lean far forward in order to move as much weight as possible onto the front wheel. With the new weight distribution our new Dunlop enduro tyres gripped well and we didn't slide around too much after that. 

The scenery once again was spectacular yet different from anything we had seen so far. Imposing mountains with enormous rocks scattered down their sides surrounded us. The rock faces beckoned any intrepid rock climber to take up the challenge. We headed through the Cederberg Wilderness area's administration offices called 'Algeria' - a spot often referred to in the literature we had researched but never marked on any map we could find.

At one point we found the only piece of road we could travel on was on the right hand side of the road. This was fine until we went around a tight blind corner straight into the path of an oncoming 4 x 4 pick up truck!! (bakkie). We pulled as far right as we could getting the bike into a bit of trouble in the loose rocks and sand that made the run off. The bakkie swerved to his right and passed us by. It wasn't dangerously close, just some quick thinking needed and we were out of the way. It was however a reminder that despite your best riding skills things can easily go awry if you let your attention laps for just a few moments.

From Clanwilliam to our accommodation was approximately 50km of absolutely breathtaking scenery. Halfway a natural waterfall provided us with a top up of fresh drinking water and an opportunity to relax. I just love being able to drink fresh water right out of the river - it always tastes so good and is a gentle reminder of the way things were meant to be.

Our accommodation at this hikers resort was a one-roomed log cabin next to the river, rustic, but well equipped. We asked the owners to supply our bedding for obvious reasons. The river running in front of the cabin was crystal clear and surprisingly warm for a mountain stream. We dived in as soon as all our sweaty riding gear was off and floated around cooling off. It was 6pm; it had been a long day, but a spectacular one. I believe firmly in the principal of 'ride for six days but rest on the seventh' which was exactly what we did and therefore stayed here for two nights rather than our usual one night stay.

The Cederberg Wilderness area is famous for its strange rock formations.  Most of them can only be reach on by foot making it a popular hiking destination

The plan was to continue riding south along the dirt road towards Ceres - another 110km ride on dirt. Four km into the trip, crawling along at 30kph through thick sand and after a tricky river crossing, we knew that this was a day we just didn't feel up to. The possibility of coming off the bike was good and when riding in a remote area on your own this is not something you want to do. Therefore we turned around and took the road back to Clanwilliam. For a change in scenery we took the river road this time. The road was in better condition offering a harder surface and made riding easier. We stopped awhile to help dig a car out that had left the road and parked on top of a large boulder. With some extra help from a passing family in a 4 x 4 the lucky driver was back on the road with nothing more serious than a badly dented ego! We followed the road to Citrusdal and then on the glorious tar N7 to Porterville and then onto Ceres. It was a much longer route overall, but easier and scenic.

We arrived at Ceres tired but elated. We stay in a beautiful B+B in with all the luxuries we could ask for. This allowed us to freshen up and savour the experience we had had over the last 2 weeks. After Ceres we would head back to Cape Town to stay with our friends in Durbanville for a few days, it would be a different type of holiday, a time to relax and catch up with friends, the adventure was over. 

Bain's Kloof Pass This 150 year old pass, built by convict labour was constructed without the aid of cement. On average one kilometre of this road took 53 days to build.  This famous overhand is called the 'Pulpit'.

We had left the best mountain pass for this our last day i.e. Bains Kloof Pass. This 27km stretch of narrow, winding road between towering cliffs is a riding experience of note. Despite the excellent road surface this ride can only be done at 40 - 50kph. I think that this ride is unique in South Africa. Similar roads are either still dirt, have been replaced with modern alternatives or are just a lot shorter. Carole sitting on the back was able to look out for the car wrecks that litter the bottom of the deep valley - I was more intent on avoiding adding our F650 to the vehicle graveyard!

We had seen a great deal of the Western Cape. The places we had seen and the people we had met had made this yet another incredible journey we would not forget. When we tried to compare it to last years trip to the neighbouring Province of the Eastern Cape we couldn't. Each was unique, offering different adventures and memories. Both trips are great for people with an appetite for the unexpected and for riders who are interested in more that just 'kilometres per day' and 'kilometres per hour'.

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